Oh dear! This was supposed to be a nice little OS but it turned into a monster. Sorry about that (and sorry for grammar mistakes – I'm pretty sure I've made a lot; feel free to tell me what I can do better ;)). However, have some (non slash) Roy x Maes. Enjoy!

Maes Hughes was undoubtedly Roy Mustang's best friend. Well, not that Roy did have many friends – yet even though there were quite a lot of people he got along with well, he trusted nobody as much as he trusted Maes. Roy didn't have any siblings, but he knew that a brother couldn't possibly be any closer to him than Maes was.

Which was strange, actually, since both men only knew each other for a few years – but Roy assumed that it didn't really matter how long you're friends with somebody but what kind of experiences both persons share. Fighting side by side in a war definitely was something that created a bond.

Yes, Maes Hughes was quite a great guy: Clever, kind, brave, humorous and absolutely reliable. Nevertheless, there were moments in which Roy wanted to put both hands around this fool's neck – mostly, when he just wouldn't stop babbling about his goddamn girlfriend.

"Aw, come on, Roy!", Maes whined, speaking in a tone of voice that made Roy want to rub his gloved thumb and middle finger against each other. Just a little. It would barely hurt Maes (But definitely do its job to shut him up). "Don't you wanna know what she looks like?"

"No, I do not, for God's sake!", Roy spat while putting on his boots.

Maes seemed to be thrown off course for a second, then his face lit up in a genuine smile. "You're just saying that `cause you have no idea what a beauty she is."

That was when Roy's patience – of which he didn't have much to begin with – snapped. "Seriously, Maes!" He glared at his friend who had sat down right next to him. "I don't give a shit about what your freaking girlfriend looks like, alright?"

Maes let his hand holding the photograph sink and his smile vanished. He wasn't offended, though, as Roy would have been if he were him. Instead, he could see worry in his friend's green eyes.

"What's wrong, Roy?"

"Nothing's wrong, damnit!" He pulled so hard on his shoelaces that they almost ripped. "Just because I don't feel like looking at pictures oft he woman you're annoying me with the whole time, that doesn't mean something's wrong with me!" Come on, shout at me. Berate me. Maybe I'll feel less like a fucking jerk, then.

"There, there", Maes said with a light chuckle, as if Roy had only made an inappropriate joke. "There must be a reason for your grumpiness."

Roy almost burst out laughing. He was in the middle of a terrible war right in a bloody desert. During the day it was excruciatingly hot and at night he was shaking from the cold...not that it mattered, anyway, since he hadn't properly slept for weeks – because as soon as he closed his eyes, he heard them scream, the men, the women and, oh God, the children, he saw their widened eyes filled with awareness that they were going to die and he stood there, watching how their houses turned into infernos and he could smell the burning flesh, felt the ashes on his skin and blood blood blood.

...Shit, of course he was in a bad mood.

Sighing deeply, Maes put the photograph back into the inside pocket of his uniform. "It's because of that woman, isn't it?"

Roy flinched. He didn't answer, but his best friend seemed to know he was right because he went on. Damn, Maes was always so understanding. „That blonde sniper. Since you've met her yesterday, you seem to be lost in thoughts."

Still silent, Roy stared down at his shoes. All of a sudden, his fingers shook so violently that he couldn't tie them up. Oh Maes, you're right. As always, damnit.

Maes put his heavy arm around his shoulders. Not the way he did when he forced Roy to listen to his endless monologues about his beloved girlfriend – no, it was somehow comforting. "How do you know her?"

"Her father taught me alchemy", Roy said quietly. "Shortly before his death he asked me to look after his daughter. Guess I failed him." His look fell on his hands that were still hovering over his open shoes. Sometimes, when he lay on his sleeping place, wide awake, he was convinced that they were dripping wet, covered with warm blood of those he killed. He then lifted his arms and could feel the thick liquid running down his knuckles and trickling on the sheets.

Berthold Hawkeye told him to stay away from the military, he had warned him. And what did he do? He'd ignored everything his teacher said. God, he'd been such a fool. He still was.

And, worst of it all: He'd dragged Riza into all of this. "He wouldn't have wanted her to join the army. And I...not only I didn't stop her, I bet I even encouraged her with all my naive talking about changing the country and...God."

"Oh Roy." Maes pulled him even closer and if he had been someone else than his friend, Roy would have thought the other man tried to strangle him. "You really need to stop this."

"Stop what?"

"Blaming yourself." He paused for a moment, then he said: "Roy, buddy, look at me."

Roy turned his head to face him. It had be quite an odd view – two grown men, sitting next to each other, one of them half-embracing the other, their faces only inches apart. That's why, despite himself, Roy couldn't stop himself from laughing softly. "Damn, Maes. If Gracia saw this..."

Maes seemed confused for a second, then he laughed so hard that both his and Roy's body shook. He now put both arms around his raven haired mate and patted him on the back, still laughing. "You're such a douchebag sometimes, you know that? I was trying to help and you don't even take me seriously!"

"…um…excuse me?"

Roy shoved Maes off him so violently that he lost his balance and almost landed on his side. There was a young soldier standing at the entrance of the tent looking at them with a mixture of nervousness and curiosity. "A-are you Captain Maes Hughes and Major Roy Mustang?"

"Yeah." Roy shot the apparently very amused Maes an annoyed look. "What do you want?"

"Um…General Fessler asked for you. He said it's urgent."

"We'll be there in a minute", Roy said. When the young soldier didn't move but instead kept staring at them as if he expected them to start kissing at any second, he added (quite loudly):"You can leave, now!"

"Man, if the General wants to see us, it can't mean anything good, huh?", Maes uttered as soon as the startled boy had hurried away.

Roy nodded though all he could really think of was that the soldier had looked like a kid. "They keep getting younger and younger, don't they?", Maes voiced his thoughts. "I mean, he was like – what, sixteen? How can they send teenagers to war?"

"It's what those boys decided for themselves", Roy said. He didn't meet Maes' eyes. "It's what we decided when we were their age."

There was a brief silence, then Maes lifted himself up with a smile that could not fool Roy. He knew that Maes didn't allow himself to be affected by what he did and had to do as soldier – at least not as much as Roy did – but that didn't mean he wasn't haunted by the same thoughts as Roy. "Come on now, Roy. Time to work."

And Roy, fingers suddenly quick and steady, tied his shoes, grabbed his jacket and followed his friend out of the tent.

It just had to be Brigadier General Fessler. A shitty morning should be followed by an even shittier day – which meant that the officer who was going to assign them for their next mission had to be shittiest of them all. Of course.

Roy wasn't quite sure why he despised this guy so much. Maybe it was that he seemed so completely sane. Of course, mad assholes like Kimblee were absolutely hateable (God, Roy wanted to smack his face the day before when he tortured poor Riza with his bullshit bravado about killing and enjoying it) – but to be honest, you couldn't really blame someone for having a (serious) mental problem.

That Fessler, though, he always spoke so matter-of-factly, you just knew he wasn't crazy. When he ordered his soldiers to kill Ishbalans, he didn't do it because it earned him some sick kind of satisfaction. He did it because – in his opinion – it had to be done.

Oh, there are more harmless civilians than rebels in that village? Whatever, they're in the way. Kill them all.

This soldier is hurt and can't walk on his own? Get rid of him, he's no longer of any use.

To him, a human being wasn't anything worthy. Soldier, rebels, civilians – they were all nothing but tools. And being treated like a tool and accepting it by following orders made Roy feel hate himself like nothing else.

"There you are." Fessler eyed the two soldiers dismissively. Roy hated that he always felt so small while facing the General who rather resembled a rock than an actual human being. "Major", he said to Roy and handed over a peace of paper, "These are the coordinates to the village I sent a troop to early this morning. I was told the rebels are giving our soldiers a rough time. Go take care of that – our troop has two 7.5cm Pack 40s with them and I don't wish to see them in Ishbalan's hands. Captain Hughes, you go take five soldiers and support the Major."

"Yessir!"

"You may leave now. I expect you to bring back all our weapons."

Roy clenched his hands to prevent his fingers from trembling. He wasn't exactly sure where all his anger came from, but he suddenly was so mad at the man in front of him, he was afraid he would hurt him if he didn't manage to control himself.

Maes seemed to notice that, because when they left, he gripped his shoulder compassionately. "Hey, are you allright? You looked like you wanted to fry the Brigadier General."

"I should have", Roy hissed. "Did you hear him? He doesn't give a shit about those soldiers out there – all he cares about is the mission itself and his…goddamn weapons. I'm sick of being ordered around by assholes like him!"

"Shhh!" Suddenly alarmed, Maes pressed his hand on Roy's mouth. "Are you stupid? Not so loud! What if someone hears you?"

"I don't care."

"Oh yes you do!" His hand left Roy's shoulder, but only to ruffle his dark hair (Oh Jesus, Maes sure loved touching other people). "And now stop making that face and lighten up a little. I'm going to be your own personal bodyguard today, isn't that awesome?"
"Huh? Who said you were going to be my bodyguard?"

"The Brigadier General", Maes said, grinning. "Well, not directly – but what do you think why he sends me and the other guys along with you? You can take down a whole village on your own and Fessler knows that. Plain soldiers like me are just there to make sure that nobody shoots you in the back."

"Splendid", said Roy with a forced smile which made Maes laugh.

"That's the spirit!"

When Roy, Maes and the other soldiers arrived, they were awaited by an non-too-happy officer. "Just for the record", was the first thing he said, "I didn't ask for help. We're perfectly capable of handling the situation ourselves."

"You're welcome", Roy answered dryly. "Now do me a favor and let us do our job so we can get this over with."

The man's face turned bright red. "I don't need to take orders from you!"

It was hard not to lose patience. Roy knew those kind of people – young, ambitious soldiers who wanted to show off their abilities. And letting someone else be in command meant letting someone else carry off the laurels in case of a successful mission. Roy understood that since he used to act just the same. When he met Maes back in the academy, he just had to prove that he was better.

However, he had found out very soon that gaining the attention of high-ranking officers meant just one thing: being really good at slaughtering people. In war, that was what made you earn a promotion. Not quite a desirable aim.

He straightened himself. "Well, in fact, you do, since I outrank you, captain. Now come on, you're my wasting time."

It looked like it caused him physical pain but finally, the other man answered. "We've got some, um, problems with our weapons – those bastards destroyed one of our 7.5cm Pack 40s and the other one seems to be, ah, stuck." He waved his hand at one of the deadly machines that was standing several feet away from them. Just in front of it, three soldiers were lying on the sand, face down, surrounded by pools of their own blood. "We need to fix it – but the rebels don't even let anyone near it."

Oh dear. A bunch of rebels somehow had managed to wreck a high-functioning, modern war machine and successfully prevented their enemies from using the other one? No wonder the captain didn't want any help. He couldn't possibly want anyone to see how badly he'd screwed up. Narrowing his eyes a little, he scanned his environment. Apart from the captain, there were still three soldiers left. Then there was also himself, Maes and the five men they had brought with them. Eleven. That wasn't too bad. "How many?"

"Rebels? Can't tell. Five, six, maybe more. Hard to say since they're hiding in that building over there."

"No snipers, I suppose?"

"No, thank God."

As expected. If there had been a sniper amongst the rebels, it would have been incredibly stupid to stand this close to the house. They were out of reach for a regular gun, but definitely not for a sniper rifle – and even this idiot of a captain wouldn't be that stupid to stay right in the field of fire. Roy could feel the eyes of his fellow soldiers being fixed on him. He let out a deep sigh. "Any civilians around?"

The answer was a careless shrug. "Don't know. There usually are, right? We didn't spot anybody but I suppose they could right as well be sitting in that house."

He didn't think about it for very long. There was no time for contemplation. "I'll go check."

"Are you insane?" The captain sounded both resentful and impressed. "You wan't to go in there? They will blow your head off."

"They won't." He turned to the men that had some here with him. "Captain Hughes and you two follow me. The others try to repair the 7.5cm Pack 40."

"This is stupid", declared the captain. God. Roy was so close to punching him in the face. "You should just use your alchemy to blow this whole building up."

"And what if there really are just five rebels but dozens of women and children in there?"

"So what?" He was screaming now. "They're not our women and children! If – if you're not going to do it, I will. As soon as we get our weapon fixed, I'm going to bury those assholes under rubble."

That was it. Roy felt tired and sick and there probably were the lives of innocents on the line again and it all was in his hands and this stupid dipshit just wouldn't get it. He grabbed the taller man by the collar and pulled him down to him, so their faces were at the same height.

"Now listen to me, you little shit. You fucked up miserably and I'm trying to clean this mess up. So don't get in my way and just do as you're told!"

He didn't bother to wait for an answer. Still trembling with rage, he turned to the three soldiers he had elected as his accompany. He suddenly realized that he didn't remember their names – except for Maes', of course – which was ridiculous, if you thought about it. These men were willing to follow him to death and he had no idea who they were. Quickly, he brushed that thought aside. No time for that. "Alright then. Let's go."

It both amazed and scared him how calm he would get as soon as he joined a battle. Well, not calm in the sense that he didn't want to punch morons like that arrogant captain in the mouth – but for some reason, he wasn't afraid when he faced his enemies. There was nothing but control and power and adrenaline and that was just as incredible as it was unsettling.

The Ishbalans started shooting right when they saw the four soldiers running towards the buildings. And Roy raised his hand and snapped.

It was always amazing to see Roy use his alchemy. Scary, yes, but also impressive. Roy only had to rub his fingertips against each other to create an inferno. For a plain soldier like Maes, it was a little like magic – Roy had laughed when he had once told him that: "Magic? Are you trying to insult me? Alchemy is quite the opposite."

And not only was he able to create flames and massive explosions – he could control them. Roy's flames always hit their aim – so when the ones he had made just now didn't hit the building, Maes knew Roy didn't want them to. He also knew why.

As Roy had already made clear, he had no intention to destroy the rebel's hidehout. But in order to get into it without getting shot, they had to block the gunman's view.

The raging flames and the blinding smoke definitely served their purpose. Maes could hardly see anything himself.

"Follow me!", Roy shouted and Maes and the other two obeyed, hurrying after him while trying to breathe in as less smoke as possible. Roy, snapping again and again, led them through the flames safely and when they arrived at the entrance of the massive building, none of them was even hurt.

"We'll split up", Roy said, not leaving them any time to catch their breath. "Attack the rebels but don't kill anyone who is unarmed. And make it quick, I wouldn't be too surprised if that son of a bitch started to shoot at us. Understood?"

"Yes sir!"

"Let's get this over with." And then he turned around and stormed off. The two soldiers left in the opposite direction while Maes followed his friend. The broad corridor soon split and Roy turned left, so Maes went right, his loaded gun in his hand, ready to kill.

It was quiet. Unnaturally quiet, in fact, he couldn't hear a single noise. Maes was on high alert but still composed. A fact that was more than frustrating to him. He'd liked to think that there were things you couldn't get used to even after a while. War had proved him wrong. During his first days, his heart had been in his mouth – now, he was in a situation like this, either kill or be killed, and his hands were completely still. Sometimes, it made Maes wonder if he could still consider himself a good person.

Roy wasn't the only one who had to fight his inner demons.

Maes stayed close to the wall, and when he reached a corner, he first peeked around it to check if- BANG!

The bullet whizzed through the air so close past his face that he could feel the draft on his skin.

He quickly pulled his head back and pressed himself even closer to the wall. It took him only a second to collect himself. Think about Gracia. If you want to hold her again, you have to get out of here alive. Now move!

Maes was a good soldier. As a plain captain, you didn't get quite as much recognition as a sniper and definitely not as much as for being an alchemist, but Maes' attacks were almost always deathly. He hadn't been a worthy rival for Roy at the academy for nothing.

He entered the corridor, raised his weapon, aimed and fired. The Ishbalan didn't even have time to pull the trigger. The bullet went straight through his head and hit the wall behind him.

One down.

Then, suddenly, the sound of a fired shot echoed through the building. Then a second and third. Did it mean that his comrades had taken down more enemies? Or hat it been the them who had been hit?

He brushed the thought aside, knowing that it wouldn't help the others anyways, and kept up his search.

Without any success. No matter how thoroughly he looked for another Ishbalan, he couldn't find anybody – neither a rebel nor a defenseless civilians.

Without wanting to, he slowly grew frustrated. What if there weren't any women and children in here? Then they would have risked their life for nothing. Of course, checking before shooting was the right thing to do and Maes completely agreed with Roy on that matter – but, still, he couldn't help but thinking like that.

Just at this moment, he heard a sound he couldn't quite bring into line. Something like a…sniff. Maes stopped in his tracks. There it was again. A sniff, followed by a "Sshh" and Maes whirled around and then he saw the small bay. How could he have overlooked that?

But even when he had made out the bay, it took him another moment to recognize the people hiding in it. But there they were – a woman, clutching two children to her chest. Maes would never forget the look on their faces as they stared at him wide-eyed. There was nothing but terrible, mortal fear. Of course they were afraid of him, but the realization that he meant pure horror to those people hit him hard. One of the children was sobbing quietly and its mother pressed it even closer to her.

The guy he had just killed could have been this woman's husband. Maes wondered if she knew that he was dead. She probably did, Maes thought.

They stayed like this for a long moment. None of them moved, and finally Maes realized that he still had his gun raised, so he lowered it to show the Ishbalans that he meant no harm. He then carefully took a few step backwards, never breaking eye-contact, before turning on his heels and slowly walking away. He could hear a surprised gasp behind him but pretended he didn't hear it.

It felt good to let them live. Which was in fact ridiculous since he and his comrades were the ones to endanger those people's lives to begin with, so he shouldn't feel too generous for not killing them. However, sparing a life instead of destroying one was a very beautiful change.

A few other minutes passed until he reached the corridor he had come from. He had checked the area he had been assigned to. There was nothing more he could do. Then again…

He didn't exactly know why he broke out in the direction that Roy had headed for. However, he suddenly ran, and his legs worked faster than his brain because they knew where to go to before he did.

"You're too caring", Roy had once told him. "It's hard enough to survive if you only think about yourself, worrying about others won't bring you anywhere." Maes had laughed him, especially because he knew that, deep down, Roy was just as warmhearted as he was. He didn't agree with Roy, even now he didn't – but in less that five minutes he would have to admit that maybe he did have a point.

He found his fried in a small room, empty save for the two men facing each other. The Ishbalan, with his back to the wall, was small and thin, rather a boy than a man, and held a rifle in his trembling fingers. His weapons' muzzle was pointed at Roy who had his gloved hand raised but seemed to be unable to kill his opponent. When Maes appeared behind his friend, the Ishbalan's eyes widened with fear but he still didn't make a move. None of them did.

Roy's whole body was shaking violently. And though Maes couldn't see his face he was sure it was filled with terror. "Roy", he said, warily - then there was an ear-shattering crash and the walls and the earth started to shake.

And several things happened all at once: The Ishbalan let out a frightened shriek and – Maes would never know whether it was intentional or not – his rifle went off with a loud bang. Maes stumbled back and heard another sound, a very familiar snap and suddenly, the boy was on fire, screaming and screaming, and then the horrifying wail was drowned out by another crash. Just when Maes realized what was happening, the ceiling came down. His last thought was Oh shit before everything went black.

Roy opened his eyes, convinced he was dead. He was dead and gone which was more than disappointing – not only because he actually had enjoyed living but also because he hadn't expected death to be this shitty: It was dark, he could barely breathe, not to mention that his head hurt like a bitch. Furthermore, he had always assumed he'd die a rather…heroic death. Hell, he wouldn't have minded being shot during a battle – but being buried under rubble because one of his fellow soldiers had bombed the house he had been in to pieces? Really?

He just lay there like this, on his stomach, and it took him full five seconds to realize three things:

One – he was, in fact, alive. Which was good, of course, but not something to be too enthusiastic about…

Two - …since he was indeed buried under debris. Which he could tell because…

Three – it wasn't as dark as had first thought. Once his eyed had gotten used to it, he could see at least something. For example that he was still breathing, for some reason, since the ceiling hadn't crashed down completely – some rocks had miraculously piled on top of each other, creating a cave big enough for a grown man to sit upright. Well, that was lucky.

"R-Roy? You there?"

Maes! Ashamed, Roy realized that he had completely forgotten his best friend for a moment. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Are you alright?", Maes asked breathlessly and it was because Roy felt so dizzy that his tone didn't alarm him immediately. "Yeah. You?"

"'M okay", Maes answered, voice breaking and that was when Roy noticed that something was horribly, terribly wrong. Maes lay on his back, not too far away from him, hand clutched to his side and looking at him through only half-opened eyes. With a soft, almost apologetic smile, he added: "Though I th-think I might have b-been shot."

Roy sat up so quickly that it made his head spin. Cursing, he crawled to Maes as fast as he could. His head was hurting so bad he felt like he had to throw up, but right now, he couldn't care less. His best friend was lying just in front of him and he was shot and they were trapped and all Roy could think was No no no nononono. When he reached him, Maes' face was covered with dust and his eyes were closed.

Roy's heart missed a beat. He grabbed his friend's shoulders and shook him, but Maes' only reaction was a painful moan. "No, don't you get unconscious, you git! Open your eyes!" And since he didn't know what else to do, he raised his opened hand and brought it down, hard.

Maes' eyes snapped open. "Did you just slap me?", he breathed, sounding ridiculously outraged.

Roy was so relieved he couldn't hold back a laugh. "Yeah."

Maes frowned, looking utterly tired. "How long was I out?"

"Just for a few seconds", Roy answered while opening Maes' jacket to get a better look at the wound. Not that there was much that he could do, he wasn't a doctor, after all. Maes watched him wearily as he pulled up his shirt, careful not to cause his friend more pain.

It probably looks worse than it really is, Roy tried to convince himself. The bullet had gone right through, piercing the flesh of his abdomen. And then there was this awful high amount of blood that kept pouring out of the wound like water out of a damaged pipe.

"So, what do you say?", Maes asked. He sounded oddly detached, as if they were talking about the weather.

Roy looked at him for a very long moment before he could muster the strength to answer: "It's just a scratch. Nothing to worry about."

Maes' face lit up in a smile. Roy could tell that he knew he had just lied. "Good. And what about you? Your head doesn't look too well."

Only then remembered Roy the throbbing in his head and tentatively touched his temple where most of the pain came from. His fingers came away bloodied. "Oh", he said, somehow bewildered. "Guess I got hit by a rock or something."

"Speaking of", Maes said, still with that remarkable calm voice. It was almost as unsettling as the wound itself. "Who do have we thank for all this? The lovely captain out there you've called down so gloriously?"

Roy grind his teeth at the mention of the captain. "Goddamned fool. I told him not to fucking shoot. As soon as we get out of here, I'm gonna kill him!"

Maes laughed weakly. "I adore your optimism, Roy."

It took Roy a second to get what his friend was implying. For one short moment, he just stared at his friend in disbelief, before his dismay turned into defiant anger. "Oh, don't give me that crap. You're not going to die. I'm going to blow a hole into this wall and get us out of here."

He couldn't help but notice that Maes' voice became weaker. "I d-don't think that's a good idea. An explosion could make the rest of the building crash down."

"So, what do you suggest then? Should I just sit here and watch you bleed to death? Are you kidding me?"

Maes gripped his arm with surprising force. "I mean it, Roy. I don't want you to put your life to risk. I-I'm sure the others are coming to get us."

"I don't think so – they were the ones to put us in this situation in the first place."

"They'll come. I'm sure they'll come. If not for me, then definitely for you – you're too valuable for them. Please, Roy. Let's just wait. At least for a little while."

Roy was tempted to object, but he could tell that his friend was serious. "Alright." It was silly. And he was angry with himself for giving in so easily because he knew that Maes just didn't want Roy to risk his life in an attempt to get them both out of here – but if they stayed in here, that moron would die. "But we need to do something to stop the bleeding."

"Excellent", Maes said, and in spite of the dark light, Roy could see how grey his skin was. He had already lost too much blood. "And what exactly d-do you have on your mind?"

Roy didn't answer, and it took Maes a few seconds until he understood. His eyes widened, wandered to his friend's hands and then his face. "Oh hell, no!"

"Ah, come on-"

"You want to burn me? Are you serious?"

"I want to seal your wound, you idiot."

"By burning it! Jesus!"

Roy lost his patience. "Shut it, Maes! Do want to die miserably or do you want me to help you?"

Maes opened his mouth again, but then his resistance broke and with a resigned moan, he covered his face with his hands. He was panting hard, the effort of the discussion taking its toll. "Oh God, go ahead."

Roy snorted, half amused, half irritated. "Stop whining! Since when are you such a crybaby?"

"I'm not!", Maes objected firmly, but Roy could tell he was scared. And he couldn't really blame him for that. A gaping wound was something beyond awful – but fire, fire was something else. Maes' eyes didn't leave Roy's fingers for one second – which didn't really help to calm his nerves. For Roy was just as scared as Maes was. He had never done this before. What if he did more harm than good? And shit, usually, his hands were completely calm, but this, this was not a stranger, it was Maes, and his fingers were trembling so bad.

"Hey…" Maes looked up to him with the most gentle smile. He'd always been like this, ever since Roy had known him – kind, soft, it was almost irritating. "I trust you, you know."

Roy forced himself to smile. "Oh really? Then what was all the nagging about? Are you afraid Gracia wouldn't like you with a burn?"

Maes' smile turned into broad grin. "Something like that."

"I heard women fancy men with scars." Roy cautiously placed his hand on the wound. Within a fraction of a second, his glove was soaked in blood. "Apparently, they find it sexy."

Maes managed a weak laugh. Then he screamed.

When Maes awoke, he looked both surprised and relieved. "I'm still alive", was the first thing he said, and Roy shot him a hurt look. "Of course you are, you ass. I know what I'm doing." He tightened the bandage he had applied to his head. It was only then that Maes noticed his wound had been dressed. He tentatively touched it, almost expected the fabric to be wet with blood, however, it seemed as if the bleeding had stopped.

"What did you use to wrap us up?", he asked, still a little dazed.

"My shirt." Roy shortly lifted his jacket and revealed his naked stomach.

"Oh. I appreciate the sacrifice."

"I hope so."

They shared a long silence, until Maes softly said: "We're in deep shit, aren't we?"

"Yeah."

With a sigh, Maes closed his eyes. "Sucks", he declared. He looked so terribly tired; it worried Roy more than anything. "Anyway, thanks, Roy."

"For giving you a pretty burn mark? You're welcome. It won't hold out for too long, though. We need to get you a doctor."

"Roy, please. You agreed we'd wait." A spark of mischief flickered in his eyes. "Come sit with m-me, Roy-boy."

Roy, complying the request and sitting down next to where Maes lay, chuckled. "Roy-boy? The last person who called me that was my aunt."

"Yeah, I know. You told me."

"I never told this anyone."

"You'd be surprised by all the things you're willing to share w-when you're drunk."

Roy chuckled again. He looked down at Maes, looking so very sick and pale, and at once he wished that they could switch places. Which may sound absurd, but dying seemed so much preferable to watching his best friend passing away. He was a little amazed, though, by how calm and contained Maes was despite being, well, shot and burned and all. He most likely was still in shock, but once this was over, Maes was going to be in a hell lot of pain. He wouldn't bother to be all kind and smiling. Well, he probably would. It was Maes, after all.

"Maes…can I ask you something?"

"S-sure. Go ahead, buddy."

"Do you think I'm a good person?"

Maes snorted. "What kind of question is that? Of course not! You're grumpy, a cynic and i-insufferable in the morning. Remember that time in the academy when y-you set my blanket on fire? That was plain evil! You're a horrible person!"

Roy couldn't help but smile. For some reason, this answer made him feel better than any assurance that he was a wonderful guy could ever have. That was one of Maes' better qualities – je always knew the right thing to say. "I told you that was an accident."

"And I t-told you I don't believe you."

Roy grinned.

"Hey", Maes said. "S-since you now have some time on your hands, w-would you like to see Gracia's picture now?"

Roy couldn't really tell why this made him laugh so much. Maybe because it was so ridiculous, even for Maes; maybe because he was so tired and desperate and didn't know what he was doing – maybe because he hat hit his head and wasn't thinking clear. But once he had started, it was hard to stop. It was not a cheerful laugh, but a frantic, almost hysteric one that erupted from his chest and echoed in the cave they were trapped in. He was still laughing when he took the photograph out of Maes' bloodied hands. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, and he looked down at the picture feeling even worse than before.

The woman that looked into the camera looked nice. Not quite like the overwhelming, mind-blowing and angel-like beauty of Maes' stories – but there still was something about her that was undeniably appealing. Her friendly smile reminded him of one specific idiot – God, had that bastard really managed to find someone who was just as annoyingly joyful as him?

Roy felt a lump in his throat. "She's pretty", he said hoarsely.

"I know, right?", Maes said proudly.

Roy handed the picture back to Maes, who, after looking at it adoringly, put it back in his pocket. "You should marry her", he told him.

A faint smile appeared on Maes' lips. "You think?"

"Yeah. If she's only half as amazing you always claim she is, then she's definitely a keeper."

"I will. I will marry her. When I get back to her, I'll propose to her and you'll be my best man and you'll babysit our beautiful babies."

"Like hell I will."

"Hey, Roy." Maes' eyes were closed and his voice was barely above a whisper. His hand gripped Roy's arm. "I love you, man."

Roy understood. He gently put his hand on Maes' (and couldn't help but notice how cold his skin was). "I know. Love you too, you goddamn idiot." There was nothing else to say. Except that there was no way that Roy would just sit and wait for both of their deaths. He didn't want Maes to fall asleep for he feared that he might not wake up again, but he knew Maes would only try to stop him from what he was planning to do.

As long as he didn't know how deep they were buried under the debris, it was impossible for him to properly limit the blast they'd need to get out of here.

"What're…you doing?", Maes murmured, already on the verge of falling asleep, when Roy moved.

"Nothing. Rest a little."

"You're…not going to do anything…stupid…are you?"

"Nah."

Then there was nothing but Maes' soft and slow breathing. And Roy did do something stupid.

Maes was woken up by a loud crash, followed by a strangled cry that made him cringe. He was confused, at first, because he didn't remember falling asleep and couldn't tell where he was and what happened. Then it all came back at once, and suddenly there was fear and, most of it all, pain. He felt like he couldn't breathe, and at the same time, he wanted to throw up. But then he remembered that he wasn't alone, that there was someone with him and that this particular person was the one who had just let out that noise of distress. "Roy?", he croaked, alarmed, and raised his head, trying to see what was going on.

Roy was kneeling on the floor, bent over and pressing his right hand to his chest. Maes could see dark, thick blood dripping to the earth. "Gods, Roy! What did you do?"

Roy cursed under his breath. He was shaking. "B-broke my fucking h-hand. Damnit!" He howled in pain.

"Roy", Maes reached out his hand. He wanted to sit up to get to his friend but found he couldn't. Look at you, he thought. You're like a beetle lying helplessly on your back. "Let me see."

Roy bit his lip, then shook his head and managed a weak smile. When he turned to face his friend, sweat was running down his forehead. "It's okay. I'm alright."

"Shut it, R-Roy. Just show me h-how bad it his."

It was bad. In fact, there was so much blood that Maes couldn't really tell where it all came from. Most fingers were broken and weirdly twisted and several deep gashes split Roy's flesh. "Shit", he said. "That sure looks painful. Darn it, Roy, I told you not to do anything stupid."

"Don't lecture me!", Roy snapped.

"It wasn't worth it. Your hand is a mess."

Roy rolled his eyes. "It's not as bad as it looks." But it was, Maes knew that.

Roy clenched his teeth. With his intact hand, he grabbed something Maes realized was the rests of his shirt and clumsily tried to wrap it around his bloody palm and fingers. "Here, let me help you." It was a little weird bandaging Roy while laying on his back, and his fingers were trembling, but he at least had two free hands. However, Maes actually enjoyed patching up his friend because it made him feel a little less useless. "What the hell were you trying to do, anyway?"

"B-blowing a hole into this d-damn wall to see how far away we're from outside."

Maes sighed. "And?"

"I guess I c-could get us out of here."

He wasn't exactly sure if he was relieved or not. Relieved for Roy's sake, yes, because if Roy got out of here, he would be able to make it back to the camp. Sure, his head looked pretty bad and his hand even worse – but his legs were still working. Maes himself, though…Roy had stopped the bleeding, so he wouldn't die too soon. But he knew he couldn't walk. He was pretty sure he couldn't even stand without help. By foot, it would take them at least an hour to get to their comrades. And Roy would insist to take him with him instead of leaving him behind since Fessler wouldn't send a troop to retrieve a half-dead, replaceable soldier. And even if he did, chances were high that Maes would either die from his wound or would be found by Ishbalans.

It was risky and Maes had to admit that he was more than afraid of the pain that awaited him. However, if there was the slightest chance to survive and get back to Gracia, it was something to be happy about, right? "Great…how?"

Roy didn't answer. Instead, he looked down on his smashed head and said "Oh right", before he suddenly started to unwrap his hand, removing the cloth that had more or less restricted the blood flow. Maes gasped as he saw the dark liquid dropping on the dry sand. "Uh, Roy, what the hell-?"

But Roy continued to ignore him. Wide-eyed, Maes watched him dip the fingers of his left hand in the little pool of blood that was beginning to form between his knees – and started to draw a circle with it.

Maes thought it was gross, but of course, he understood what his comrade was doing. Roy was working slowly. He was in obvious pain, furthermore, the already dim light was fading, which made it even more difficult for him to see what he was doing. Maes watched his best friend, exhausted and probably aching all over, drawing transmutation circles with his own blood.

"I-I'm sorry, Roy. I wish I c-could help you somehow."

"You can, actually", Roy said. "Talk to me."

"Won't that distract you?"
Roy paused for a moment, and Maes was pretty sure he knew what was going through his head: That Maes had never cared before whether he was disturbing something when he bent Roy's ears. But finally he said: "A little. However, it would help me stop to worry about you if I knew you're still alive."

"Heh. You asked for it."

The fact that, even at a time like this, Maes seemed physically unable to run out of words was strangely comforting. It didn't escape Roy's notice, though, that Maes had to pause every now and then in order to catch his breath, and that these pauses grew more frequent and longer. He was getting weaker and weaker.

But so was Roy. His head was still aching and his hand was hurting like hell which made it impossible for him to work faster. On top of it all, the light was fading steadily. He had to finish this quickly. Pages of the books he'd read during his studies at his mentor's home were swimming before his eyes. With his throbbing head, it was unnervingly hard to remember what he had learnt.

"Ha-have I ever told you about how I asked her out?", Maes asked.

Roy smiled. Yes, you did. Way too many times. But he still let his friend talk, glad that he was still able to.

By the time Roy finished his work, he was shaking from pain and bloodloss. He looked down at the circles he had drawn, checking for possible mistakes. "Finished", he announced while he crawled back to Maes' side, so his friend could help him again with the bandage. "Listen up. I'm going to break us free by force. I'll use those transmutation circles to keep the cave from collapsing but I don't think they will hold out for long. We'll have get out of here as quick as possible. I'll do my best to help you, but I'm afraid you'll have to walk by yourself. Do you think you can manage that?"

Maes didn't answer his question. In fact, he was quiet when he wound the cloth around his hand. Roy could see he was frowning and he knew what Maes was going to say even before he raised his voice.

"Although I can already guess what your answer will be", Maes finally spoke, "I still have to say this to you – for my inner peace's sake: Leave me here."

Roy flinched when Maes tightened the knot. "Not gonna happen, Maes. So stop wasting our time and put your arm around my neck."

"Roy, listen…", Maes sighed.

"No, you listen to me! I'm done with losing people close to me, alright? Now shut up and don't die!"

"Okay."

"No, not 'okay'. Promise me!"

"Roy, I ca-"

"Promise me, Maes."

"Fine. Fine, I promise I won't die. Satisfied?"

It took some doing until Maes was on his knees, leaning heavily against his comrade, and Roy caught himself thinking that Maes probably wouldn't even make it out of the building,

"Ready?"

Maes nodded, apparently unable to speak. He was breathing heavily.

"Alright." Roy raised his hand and snapped. The walls in front of him exploded with a loud BANG – and it didn't take another second until everything around them started to shake. Roy quickly smashed his palm down on one of the circles which immediately started to glow; the others, connected to the first one, did the same. And then, stone pillars shot up in the air and slammed against the crashing ceiling.

"Hurry!", he yelled, and as fast as he could, he crouched towards the opening he had created, dragging Maes with him. He heard his friend cry out but as much as it hurt him, he couldn't bother with it right now. The noise was ear-shattering, and Roy knew that if he was going to survive this, he would have nightmares about this for years – the black masses of stone falling down on him and his almost-dead friend that was half-lying on his back while he crawled towards the light.

They were too slow, Roy realized when a rock landed right behind his injured hand. And for a split second, he thought about giving up; but then he felt Maes' breath against his ear and remembered that all this wasn't just about him.

He cursed, loud enough to drown the noise, and with the strength of someone who had nothing to lose, he hurried towards the exit, dragging Maes with him almost violently.

They made it, somehow. Just before the rests of what had once been a building completely crashed down, they got outside.

Roy collapsed immediately, landing face-front on the sand, Maes still on top of him. He was covered with dust from head to toe, and his hand and head hurt worse than ever. He couldn't care less, though. All that mattered that they were outside this goddamn cave. Fresh air had never tasted so good.

"Maes?", he croaked. Wow, his voice was hoarse. "'re dead?"

"Not yet", Maes whispered.

"Then get the hell of me."

With a painful moan, Maes rolled himself off Roy. Roy watched him out of the corner of his eyes, as he lay flat on his back, eyes closed and clutching his wound. But he was smiling. "Y-you know, Roy-boy, I c-can't decide if you're a genius or fucking m-mad."

"Shut up. I got us out of there, didn't I?" And I got us in there in the first place, he thought. "Hey, Maes."

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For getting you into this situation. The captain was right, I should have just blown the house up."

Maes slowly shook his head. He still hadn't opened his eyes. "No. When we went i-in th-there, I found a woman and t-two kids. If they've managed to g-get out in time, then y-you would have s-saved three lives."

Three lives. It didn't sound like much but it was, Roy knew that. However, if saving those Ishbalans meant losing Maes, then Roy had to admit that three lives weren't nearly enough.

"Roy?"

"We should get going."

"…Okay." There was something odd about the way Maes said that. Like had child that had been persuaded by it's sibling to play a game it didn't like – but it didn't matter because the sibling would soon find out for himself that the idea had been stupid. Well, that only made Roy more determined.

"Come on." He was pleasantly surprised by how well his legs responded when he rose to his feet. He had somehow expected them to feel as weak and useless as the rest of his body. His euphoria vanished quickly, though, when he saw how much agony it seemed to cause Maes to only sit up. "Come on", Roy said again, softer this time, and gently put Maes' arm around his neck. "You can do it."

But he couldn't. Not for long at least. Roy tried to be cautious yet Maes screamed when he was pulled into a standing position.

He was leaning so heavily on Roy that his knees started to shake. Roy tried his best to help by half carrying, half dragging Maes with him while he murmured incoherent, encouraging words. Meanwhile, Maes bravely put one foot in front of the other, mustering all the strength he had left.

It was a miracle that he was able to do that. Roy didn't know how much time had passed since Maes had been shot for he didn't have any idea what time was (and he didn't exactly have a free hand to reach for his watch) – but it was definitely too much. He was no doctor, but he was pretty sure that someone in Maes' condition wasn't supposed to walk around.

So it didn't actually surprise him, when, after a while, Maes' grip on him loosened and he doubled over. Still, he wasn't prepared for it and his useless right hand didn't help much when he awkwardly tried to catch him. In the end, they both fell to the ground, weirdly tangled up and breathing hard.

Shit.

"'orry, Roy." He was still conscious. Roy couldn't help but be impressed.

"It's okay", he said, even though nothing was okay, not at all. But he couldn't allow himself to panic. Not now. "I'll carry you."

"Y-you-"

"Don't. You. Dare. To discuss this now." He got into a squat position in front of Maes and somehow managed (he had no idea how) to pull him onto his back and rise. Ouch. His knees buckled under the sudden weight but he still mustered the strength to moan: "God, you're heavy." His whole body screamed Drop him, drop him, but of course he didn't.

Maes' answer came out as a murmur. "Th-that's because I'm t-taller than you."

Taking a few steps forward, Roy managed a little laugh. "Oh, screw you! You want me to drop you?"

He could feel Maes' temple pressing against his neck. "Heh. I r-really love you, buddy."

Roy swallowed back a sob. "Stop it already! Creep."

Time passed slowly. Soon, Roy's body screamed from exhaustion and pain; he had difficulties to control his own, trembling legs, and he had tripped more than once – luckily, he had always managed to gain his balance before they both hit the ground. So far, at least. He wasn't exactly sure when he realized that they wouldn't make it, but at some point, he just knew that it was impossible for him to carry his friend the whole way. He couldn't. Maes was too heavy and Roy too hurt, tired and dehydrated.

Maybe, maybe he could reach the camp on his own – but that would mean leaving Maes behind. And how could he do that?

No, he wouldn't leave him behind, under no circumstances. That realization came long before he knew they wouldn't make it far. They would either both live or both die.

That's why he kept going, even though every inch of his body told him not to. One step after another. Don't stop. If you stop, you won't be able to move again.

His own breathing seemed very loud. Maes mumbled incoherent words in his ear. Well, that's what Maes had been doing in the beginning, at least. Roy noticed just now that it had become disturbingly quiet. "Maes?"

No answer.

"Hey, Maes? Are you still with me? Maes!"

Oh God.

Roy halted. As careful as possible, he let Maes slip from his back onto the ground. His friend didn't move at all.

"…Maes?" He turned to him. Maes' eyes were closed. For some reason, Roy laughed a little. "Ha, Maes, that's not funny. Come on, buddy." Nothing.

"Maes…h-hey. You can't…" No reaction. Maes didn't fucking move.

Roy reached out to check his pulse, but his fingers were trembling so hard that he couldn't feel anything.

A weird noise escaped his throat, something like a sob, but he didn't cry. "No! No, don't you dare die on me, asshole! You promised me! Open your eyes! Maes, hey!" He was feeling sick. Furious, Roy grabbed his head and doubled over. "FUCK!"

And then, there was nothing but anger. It gave him new strength and with all his remaining power, he grabbed his friend and pulled him on his back again. "Hang on, Maes. I'm bringing you home, you hear me? You'll be with Gracia, so don't you give up now, you hear me?"

It wasn't long until his rage faded and exhaustion took its place. His body grew numb, and at some point, he wasn't there anymore.

He heard voices from a long, long time ago, saw places and people he hadn't seen in years.

He wasn't walking through the desert, no, he was running in a circle, and his father was chasing him, laughing, while his mother told them to come in and have some lunch.

He was sitting in the dark room and instead of the stench of blood and dirt, the air was filled with the scent of his aunt's perfume as she hugged him tightly and told him that his parents wouldn't come back.

Suddenly, he wasn't thirsty anymore. In fact, he was completely drenched because a classmate had dared him to jump into a deep river, and he had done it – and now he was surrounded by his friends who laughed and clapped his back approvingly.

His hand didn't hurt anymore – his right leg did, though, since he had fallen from a ladder while trying to repair his masters window in the second floor. But Riza, Mr. Hawkeyes' daughter, was there, nursing him and apologizing for the inconvenience.

And Maes was alive and well, sitting next to him and smoking a cigarette after a long day at the academy.

It was then that his legs gave out under him and he hit the ground, hard.

Well look at you, Roy-boy, his aunt's voice echoed in his head, followed by her deep, hearty laugh. You've become a fine young man.

Then, everything – the sounds, the faces and odors – disappeared and Roy lost his consciousness.

"Hey, hey! Calm down."

Calm down? How? He didn't have any idea where he was and what was happening – how was he supposed to calm his racing heart? Someone grabbed his shoulder tightly.

"Major! Look at me! Look at me, you are safe now."

Roy jerked his eyes open. A young man looked at him trough blue, worried eyes. "Please, Major, you'll hurt yourself."

Roy wanted to say something but found he couldn't. Only then he realized that he was sitting upright on a bed, fists clenched and his chest heaving. The man in front of him, who held him by his shoulders to prevent him from injuring himself even more (and most likely to avoid that he accidently punched his him in the face), was no stranger. Not that Roy had ever talked to him before, but like everyone he had heard the stories about the Rockbells who didn't only take care of Amnestrian soldiers but also of Ishbalans.

For a split second, Roy wondered how many of their Ishbalan patients had been brought to the lazaret because of him.

"Please, Major", urged the doctor. "Lay down, you must rest. Luckily, your injuries aren't as bad as it first at seemed but that doesn't mean you're allowed to get up." But Roy didn't want to rest. He needed to know what had happened to Maes. Shaking his head violently (which was a stupid idea as his vision promptly became blurred), he tried to get up (which was an even worse idea). What he hadn't considered was the fact that his limbs were more than useless at this moment, and Mr. Rockbell had to catch him as his knees buckled under his weight.

"Goddamnit, Major!", he cursed, helping him to sit down again. "Don't force me to sedate you." Roy no longer resisted. God, his head was spinning.

"Here." Doctor Rockbell handed him a bottle with water. Out of instinct, Roy reached out with his right hand to grab it, only to remember that it was useless at the moment. He stared at the thick, white bandage that had been wrapped around it, before he took the bottle. He drank almost all of its content, and then he finally found the strength to speak. "Maes…?"

"He's alive." Mr. Rockbell's voice was warm and reassuring, and the relief made his hand tremble so violently that he could barely hold the bottle. "Which is, to be honest, almost a miracle." The doctor sounded a little impressed. "He's one tenacious guy."

Yeah, he is, Roy thought. In all respects.

"Anyway", the blond man continued. "He wouldn't be with us anymore if it weren't for you. You saved his life."

And he saved mine. "H-how did you…find us?"

"Oh that was thanks to Captain Johnson, the one you were assigned to help. Shortly after reaching the camp and bringing back the weapons, he asked for permission to save you two. At first, the General refused, that's why it took so long. But finally, Captain Johnson was able to convince him that you were too valuable to be left behind. He really took a stand for you."

Ha, well, maybe he did – but he was the one who had buried them. To his own surprise, he wasn't angry – however, he wasn't exactly overflowing with gratitude as well. So, Johnson was his name, huh? He would remember that.

"So…Maes will recover completely?"

Mr. Rockbell smiled which made his blue eyes appear even brighter. Roy didn't know yet that in a few years, he would see the same eyes on a little girl's face when he'd try to convince her childhood friend to join the army. "He's going to be fine, Major. By the way, he was awake a short while ago."

"He was awake?"

"Yes, for a few minutes. And he asked about you." He paused. "Well, I suppose he did, at least." Noticing Roy's questioning look, he added: "When he gained consciousness, he asked whether a certain Roy-boy was alright. Considering that Roy's your first name, I assumed that he meant you."

The two men looked at each other for full ten seconds until Roy gravely said. "No. He didn't. That's another Roy."

A mischievous smile appeared on doctor Rockbell's face. "Of course."

When he left, Roy buried his face in both hands and groaned. He was going to kill Maes.

Elysias's skin was warm. Almost unnaturally warm – which would have worried Roy if he didn't know she always was like that (Maes had once claimed it was because she was like a little sun. "Oh, for God's sake, Maes", Roy had grumbled, glaring at him over his almost emptied glass. "I'm not drunk enough for this."). And Elysia was touching him all the time (she really was her father's child) – while Roy was sat on the large armchair in the Hughes' living room, trying to hold a conversation with Gracia, the little girl couldn't stand still.

With relentless enthusiasm (another thing that reminded him a lot of a certain somebody), she ran tried to get Roy's attention by pulling his sleeve, grabbing his fingers and putting numerous little treasures in his hands – different shaped stones, drawings (Mostly horses and butterflies, but also her parents, and – for some reason – a guy who he assumed was supposed to be him.) and other stuff that seemed to be incredibly important to her. Roy tried his best to react appropiately, but all he managed was to absently pat her head and say things like "Aha", "Nice" or "Well done". It seemed to be enough for her, though, since she smiled broadly every time he did. Finally, she seemed to have run out of exciting things to show him, so she climbed on his knees und snuggled against his broad chest.

Gracia, who was sitting on the other side of the coffee table, couldn't hold back a small laugh. "I'm sorry. Do you want me to take her?"

"No, it's okay", Roy said.

"She's just so excited to see you, you know?"

Roy chuckled. "Yeah, I can tell."

"She likes you." Gracia was still smiling, but her eyes suddenly looked sad. "She really does."

"I know", Roy said and looked down at the little girl who seemed to have fallen asleep. Roy kind of envied for being able to fall asleep so fast. "Though I don't understand why. She has a horrible taste."

"Don't you say that", Gracia scolded him. "You two are so adorable. I can't believe you and Riza don't have any children yet. You'd be a wonderful father."

Roy frowned, not sure if she was serious or making fun of him. "I wouldn't. I don't get along with kids very well. Ask Fullmetal." He smiled down at the dormant girl. "This little monster is alright, but most of the children I've met so far made me want to run away."

Gracia gave him the "You'd understand if you were a parent"-look he had seen on Maes' face numerous times. "If you say so", she finally said, taking another sip from her coffee. Then the room grew quiet for a long moment, until Gracia murmured: "Elysia's a lot like him. Like Maes. Sometimes, she reminds me of him so much that it hurts."

"I know", Roy said again because he didn't know what else to say. Suddenly, it was difficult for him to look at Gracia. An all to well known feeling came over him – pain, sadness and, most of it all, guilt. He had almost waited for it – since Maes was dead, these emotions made his throat and lungs burn every time he saw the young widow and her child. When he spoke, his throat was dry. He had no idea wherefrom he got the courage, all of a sudden. But then he finally said what he had meant to say already months ago. "You know…sometimes I wish it had been me instead of him."

"Yes, I know." Gracia's face had hardened. "And I hope you know Maes would smack you for even thinking that if he was here. In fact, I would like to do that now, but I don't want to wake up Elysia."

Roy cracked a smile. "Sorry, Ma'am."

Gracia shook her head. "You're one strange man", she said, but not without fondness. She then rose from her seat and walked to Roy's chair to gently take her daughter out of his arms. "Now, Roy. As much as I appreciate that you look after me and Elyisa – you've got someone waiting for you at home and you shouldn't leave her alone all day."

"Are you throwing me out?"
Gracia chuckled. Her smile still lit up her entire face like it used to before Maes' death. "Yes, I am. Now get out of here before Elysia wakes up and stops you."

Roy felt a little guilty for leaving them alone – Gracia, without her husband, and Elysia, without her loving daddy. The fact that he was now headed towards his own little paradise made it even harder. However, he couldn't help but being filled with joy by alone the thought of her waiting for him at home. A home that had been empty for so many years. Roy remembered those nights, when there had been nothing but dim light and dirty dishes in the sink, very well.

Now, someone opened the door when he arrived, and he was greeted with a smile and a soft kiss on the mouth. A sigh escaped his lips. He was home.

"Hey, are you alright?", she asked when he buried his face in her neck. He didn't answer, just clung to her because everything he needed now was her warmth and silent comfort.

And, as always, she understood. "I know", she whispered, hugging him tightly. "I know."

It was then when he heard somebody yell out of the living room: "Hey, Hawkeye! Is that the colonel bastard?"

Roy abruptly raised his head to stare at Riza with a look that said: "Seriously?"

Riza smiled. "Don't be like that. Ed and Alphonse stopped by just to see you. They've been waiting for almost an hour. Try to be nice, okay?"

Ha, as if! "You know damn well that I'm not a colonel anymore, you little shit!", he said, raising his voice. He could almost see Edward twitch at the word "little" – since his growth spurt, he wasn't as sensitive about the topic as he used to be, but it still hit a nerve. "You were there when I got my promotion, remember?"

"Like I care! Your new title doesn't sound half as catchy."

Riza had to bite back a laugh while Roy rolled his eyes. He put an arm around her shoulders as they headed towards the living room. "Why did you even let them in?"

"Because I know you love them. Just as much as they love you."

Roy snorted like he always did when someone implied that he cared for the Elrics. Of course he couldn't fool Riza. He didn't have to tell nor the boy how happy he was that Ed and Al were here. They knew it anyway.

And all at once he realized that it was going to be okay. He would always miss Maes and it would always hurt him to see Gracia grow up without her husband, to witness Elysia growing up without her loving daddy. Things like that never change. Losing someone you love will never stop being painful. And he would be always be haunted by things he had and hadn't done.

However, Roy knew that this was okay. He had people that made sure he would never forget that. Three of them were right here. There people that meant the world to him.

Phew, thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! :)