AN: AND WE'RE BACK! I love this world too much not to continue with it. I definitely wanted to do a sequel and decided this would be the best way to do it.

This is a sequel, every oneshot here takes place after the events of Comets. So, I'd advise you to read it if you haven't already!

The time line will jump backwards and forwards and there may be two - maybe even three - parters (so not really oneshots but shhh). I'm just going to write each idea which comes into my head regarding these two characters.

The update schedule will be erratic, there won't be a set day like for Comets, but I do aim to put out at least one chapter per week. That's easy enough to do. It just means one week it may be posted on a Monday, the next week, a Friday.

I hope you enjoy this fic and collection of oneshots! Let me know what you think!

REGRET Part 1

ROY

Roy sighed heavily as he walked towards his rooms. His legs felt like lead as he walked, dragging behind him.

God, he was so tired.

The weeks after his rescue had been incredibly trying. He felt drained in every way, physically, mentally, and emotionally. No matter how hard he tried to relax and shut off his mind, like he had before he had been… taken, it never worked. Just as he was about to drift off something in his mind would jolt him back to reality.

He fought and pushed himself to forget what had happened. He wanted nothing more. Visions of him torturing innocent people plagued him through the waking hours and at night, he was visited constantly by a dream where he killed Elizabeth.

Those were the worst. Most of the time he didn't awaken straight away. Instead, after her death, he would snap out of the darkness' control. Then he would have to deal with the fact he had killed her.

It was worse now because shortly after their return the team had focussed on trying to find Father and put a stop to him. That meant Elizabeth was away at meetings or on recon missions for days at a time. When he woke up after his nightmares and she wasn't there beside him, he flew into a panic. Panic attacks were becoming a frequent occurrence with him. There was always a crushing pain in his chest as he tried to get his breathing under control and distil the panic overwhelming him. But it did little help.

He began to become afraid of falling asleep.

It only ever happened when Elizabeth wasn't next to him as he slept. He would awaken and be reassured by her presence. She would continue to sleep soundly, unaware of his distress.

He hadn't spoken to Elizabeth about any this. She was too busy working to find Father. She wanted revenge, and he did too, but it left them little time to spend together. He desperately wanted someone to share this with, and he wanted it to be Elizabeth. Roy had told her everything that had happened. She would understand.

But he never had the chance.

Something would always come up when he tried. She would be called away to another meeting or her Father would want to discuss her plan to find the bastard.

Roy wanted to help them. He wanted to put a stop to the man who had taken almost everything from him, but the team had decided against it. They said it wasn't because they didn't trust him, but he knew otherwise. They were still afraid of him. He could see it in their eyes.

Roy had never felt so alone.

He had confronted the group about after they had kept information from him and shared odd looks one too many times.

"Why can't I help?" he had asked them, his anger and frustration increasing. They were being unfair. "I think I deserve to get revenge on this bastard more than anyone!"

"It's not that, it's –"

"Here come the excuses," he muttered, surprising himself. He hadn't meant to say it, let alone think it, but it slipped out.

"Roy," Elizabeth admonished, her gaze hard. "You are being unfair."

"No, you are being unfair," he snapped. He could feel his anger building, threatening to overwhelm him. It was beckoning him in, telling him to give into the emotion. "I thought you of all people would understand," he accused Elizabeth, eliciting a glare from her.

"I do understand, but for your own wellbeing we have decided against it," she explained, her voice calmer than it had been before, as if she had forced herself to do so. "We want to ensure you are able to handle everything when it matters most." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Use this time to recover fully," she urged, her eyes pleading with him.

But his anger spiked and his frustration grew. The reasonable part of his mind realised it was getting out of control. He tried to reign his emotions in, but to no avail. They were too strong.

He leaned forward himself, slamming his palms against the table he stood in front of. The rest of the team jumped at the sound, looking nervously between him and Elizabeth. That other part of his mind told him to stop. This was not what he wanted, them to be afraid of him. But the larger part fought against it, squashing that small voice. It all felt familiar, yet he couldn't – or perhaps wouldn't – recognise this feeling for what it really was.

"If you won't help me, I'll get revenge myself," he hissed.

Maes and Edward, who stood on either side of Elizabeth, shifted their stances, readying themselves to fight, however Elizabeth remained steady in her seat. She watched him, her gaze unwavering but hard. The others around the room had stopped what they were doing, turning their full attention towards him. It was like they had all turned against him.

It was like he was being controlled by the darkness again.

The sudden and final realisation struck him like a blow to the stomach. He straightened as regret and guilt surged, dissipating the anger and frustration he had previously felt. He snapped out of his trance like state, blinking rapidly and trying to get a hold of himself. He looked at Elizabeth. Her gaze had softened, but he saw pity in her eyes. And a tinge of fear. Maes and Edward both stood down, but stepped up to her side, ready to defend her is necessary.

What am I doing? He thought to himself. What was that?

Now he knew why it had all felt so familiar. The anger had threatened to overwhelm him, taking control and dominating his emotions. It had tried to draw him in, encouraged him to give in to it. And the temptation had been there. It had almost succeeded.

It was exactly like it had been when he had been under the control of the darkness. The shadows dominated him, being a living being itself, and manifested itself in his emotions. It had constantly told him that he had been left to die by his former lover. It had continuously stressed how the attack had been Elizabeth's plan all along. She had worked with them to get him killed, but they had other plans. The shadows had convinced him that they were the good guys and they could be trusted. That's when the anger came.

However, a smaller part of his mind had constantly denied these lies. It had fought the shadows, telling him the truth.

But the darkness had made its way into his memories, altering them slightly and removing important details which should have sealed the deal, telling him the shadows were lying. But, he couldn't remember it entirely, so he couldn't confirm, nor deny the lies.

In that room, as everyone had stared at him in fear, not trusting him the slightest, he realised he was acting like the monster he had once been. He had almost let his anger overwhelm him again. He straightened, feeling a sweat flush over his skin, his head throbbing. He massaged his temples, feeling the anger disappear as quickly as it had come.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered as he turned to leave the room. Elizabeth called him back, but he ignored her. She had every right not to trust him now. They were right to be afraid of him. He needed to stay away.

He had been so sure the darkness had been removed from his system completely when the shadows had been destroyed. He had felt completely normal, there had been no festering shadows who whispered things in his mind anymore. He was in full control of his body.

He had been wrong.

He shrugged off his jacket and clothes, changing quickly into his night clothes. Dragging his tired body over to the large bed, he flopped down, exhausted. Fear shot through him at the thought of what nightmare would plague him that night. He knew what it would be, but his unconscious mind always managed to come up with some kind of twist to torture him in his sleep.

He didn't even bother to move underneath the duvet. He simply lay in place, praying he would get some much needed sleep, regardless of his futile the action was.

"Roy! Roy!"

A voice was calling to him in his dream. He looked down at his feet where Elizabeth lay, dying. She was calling his name, looking up at his face with pleading eyes. She gripped her throat which was bleeding profusely. Blood ran freely through her hands and onto the cold grey floor beneath them.

"Roy, please," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Terror gripped him and he fell to his knees.

"No, no, no, no," he whispered over and over, his voice raising in volume with every word he spoke. "Riza!" he called to her, but her head had already lolled back, her eyes staring up the ceiling, unseeing. Her hands fell from her throat, revealing a wound stained black by the poison which resided inside his shadows.

He felt himself being torn apart from the inside.

He had done this.

He had killed her.

"Roy!"

He bolted upright. A figure stood in front of him, hands resting on his shoulders. It was too dark to see who it was, but they were shaking him. By instinct, and through fright, he threw a ball of magical energy in their direction to get them away from him.

There was a quiet "oof" sound as they flew to the opposite side of the room. There was a crash as glass shattered when a body collided with the lamp next to one of the couches.

Roy scrambled backwards on the bed, trying to put as much distance between him and the intruder. He raised his shaking hands in defence, reading to throw another attack their way if needed.

He had visions of Father finally finding him to take him back to that place. He wouldn't have it. He would fight this time. He wouldn't go back.

As his senses returned to him he calmed down. He got his bearing as his eyes adjusted. He was in his room, still on the bed. Good. He knew his room well and could make a quick escape if necessary.

His legs quivered beneath him as he remained crouched, fatiguing quickly due to his exhaustion. He felt the sweat pouring off of him. His clothes clung to his shaking body like a second skin.

His racing thoughts were interrupted by a groan from the opposite side of the room. Roy forced his breathing to slow, to calm himself down. The figure groaned again, this time sounded incredibly familiar.

"Riza?" Roy asked quietly after a minute. There was no mistaking that voice. He hadn't expected her to be back so soon. She had only been away two or three days – Roy had trouble keeping track of the days. The plan had been to be away for a week at least.

"What was that for?" she cried indignantly, followed by a gasp of pain.

Roy lowered his hands and immediately jumped off the bed from his crouched position. He rushed over to her, flicking his wrist to light the lamps around the door. Regret rushed through him as his eyes adjusted to the light and he saw what he had done.

There was a deep cut on her left forearm, running almost the length of it. Blood ran from the gash steadily, dripping onto the carpet below. Elizabeth's eye were screwed shut in pain as she cradled her arm against her. As Roy approached, glass crunched under his feet, biting into his skin. He was sure it had drawn blood, but he didn't care.

"Riza," he choked out. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's all right, Roy," she quickly reassured him. "It's only –" She hissed in pain as she tried to move her arm.

Guilt ate at him as he watched. He hadn't intended to hurt her. He didn't even know it was her when he woke! But, yet again, he had hurt her.

He was useless.

He supported her right arm and helped her stand, escorting her over to the fireplace. Without effort he turned the fire on, providing warmth to the cool room.

"I'll get some bandages," he stuttered, rushing out of the room. Elizabeth called after him, but he was too lost in his own spiral of guilt to notice.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! He scolded himself continuously as he reached a small cupboard in the hallway. Both he and Elizabeth had stashed extra medical supplies here in case they were needed. He grabbed a handful and ran back to her.

"Riza, I'm so sorry," he repeated as he approached her with the bandages.

"Roy, don't –" she began softly, no doubt telling him not to worry about it. "It was an accident," she would say. But he should have known. He should have been more careful.

"Don't tell me it is okay," he snapped. He heaved a sigh, pausing in his movements. He ran a hand over his face, trying to wipe away the exhaustion he felt. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap."

Elizabeth was silent as he worked on cleaning the wound. Roy had picked up tweezers and set to work removing the glass from her arm. She watched as he worked, removing the pieces methodically. He tried to stop his hands from shaking, but he couldn't. After the third time she had hissed in pain after he had poked her in the wrong place he threw them down on the table in frustration.

He placed his hands over his face. He had never felt so damn useless.

"Roy?" Elizabeth asked quietly. When his hands didn't move – he felt too ashamed to face her. No matter how hard he tried, he continued to hurt her. He had sworn he would never do it again, but he continued to break that promise. He was fucking useless. He should just leave and never come back, it would be for the best –

"Roy," Elizabeth said more firmly this time. She gently took his hands in hers, lowering them from his face. She gasped as his sad and tired gaze met hers. No doubt surprised at how shit he looked. He certainly felt like it anyway.

Instead of pulling away like he had expected, she remained still, giving his hands a squeeze in comfort.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly.

Roy finally looked away, staring into the fire. It had cast a lovely glow over her features, giving her an almost ethereal look. God she looks so beautiful. He shook that thought from his mind. After everything he had done he didn't deserve her.

"I –" he started, but stopped short. He swallowed, wetting his suddenly dry throat. He didn't know where to start. This was what he had wanted, to finally get some time to tell Elizabeth everything that was happening with him. He had wanted – no needed – someone to confide in for so long, but now it was here he didn't want to admit his true feelings.

It made him feel too useless, too weak.

If he felt this way then he couldn't protect her the way he should be.

"Tell me," she urged softly, with a smile.

So, he took a deep breath, and finally did so.