Hey~This is just a quick little drabble for Roy. People who go to war do not come out unscathed, and that goes for Roy.
For those of you who hate "mask" things... think of it this way: those who return from real-life war often develop Post-Truamatic-Stress-Disorder (PTSD). This is just... yeah :3
He knows he's not perfect, though he tries to pretend he is. It's better than facing the truth, day in and day out. Quiet evenings when he sits alone with Edward in his personal library, researching some alchemical pursuit or another, he can almost feel normal. That's when his mask falls and he is "okay." Ed generally has this affect on him.
Other times, like when he's at work, Roy must maintain his bluff, his strong persona. There, not even his most trusted team can know the subtle cracks he has here and there inside of him. After all, such faultlines are weaknesses and no aspiring Fuehrer can show weakness.
But there are times when no amount of self-control can stop the shivers and the shudders that rack through him. He tries to stay strong for Ed – after all, the blonde's had his fair share of shit to deal with. But… there are those times when he sits with Ed, lost in comfort and normality and he subconsciously knows he is safe, those times, his body decides it is time to deal with what he's been through.
Door slam, thunder crack, lightning flash. Shrill ring, desperate call, sharp pain.
Down on the ground, sand in his boots, fingers poised to snap again. Around him the fire burns, the innocents scream, the flesh decays, the guns unload, the bullets strike. His blood rushes, adrenaline flows, fear underscores. He keeps himself from utter shock and panic by thinking of survival. He's got to do this, right? He was ordered to, right? When he's on top, he can change this all. Change it all… right? Right?
Behind him, angry calls give out, screeching of a god without alchemy. They've come to kill him!
Fingers poised. Fingers poised…. Ready to snap -
"Roy! Roy!"
Gentle arms, sweet arms, golden eyes of concern. "Roy… you're safe… Safe. You're here with me."
Sands give way to maroon carpet. Fires give way to golden hair and burning eyes. Screams dissolve into a comforting voice.
"Nobody can touch you. You're with me…"
His head still reels, his heart still pounds, but Ed can bring him back.
For some reason, it's always been like that.
Review! I might do something for Ed if you do!