Author's Note: This is a sequel to my fic "And I Won't Let Go" (which is in turn a sequel to chapter 5 of my fic A Hundred Ways to Say You're My Brother), but you don't really need to have read that to understand this one. I don't even know where this came from, really; I guess I was reading a review for "And I Won't Let Go" and thinking about the way I'd ended that one. I like the place I ended it, but I felt like...Ed wasn't quite okay yet. I started wondering what it would be like to be in the position of Mustang and the others, and then it seemed like Ed and Mustang suddenly appeared in my head and started talking to each other. It was quite a challenge to remember everything they needed to say long enough for me to write it down, but I'm reasonably pleased with the result. See this as a consolatory foreshadowing of my next fic ;)

I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone
Someone that I like better
Can you help me forget?
Don't wanna feel like this forever

Forever!

...

If I live tomorrow
Would anybody care?

- "Would It Matter?" by Skillet

An awkward silence hung heavy in the air. The others had been all too glad to leave, leaping at Hughes's suggestion that they bring over some good home cooking. Even Alphonse had left without any complaints, lingering only to fuss about the blanket draped over Edward's shoulders. None of them knew what to do, how to react, so they made their retreat.

Roy wasn't angry with them for abandoning him. He'd caught Hawkeye's attention, then glanced between Alphonse and the door, silently telling her to take Alphonse away from his brother and let him calm down. And Roy had almost smiled at Hughes's talk of food, because he remembered the time Hughes had brought him apple pie when he was in his darkest hour, and knew how much it would help. At the time, Hughes had joked that Gracia's baking was enough to convince anyone that life was worth living.

But as soon as they left Roy and Edward alone in the latter's dorm room, Roy realized he had no idea what to do either. Edward lay on the couch, curled up under his blanket, and Roy perched on the end, trying to come to grips with the way everything was different now. He knew exactly how to act around the usual Edward, the one who swore at the top of his lungs, insulted him with every breath, and tried to prove that he was as strong as any adult. But this Edward lay quiet and still, and every shallow breath that lifted the blanket reminded them both how fragile he really was.

Maybe part of this awkwardness was that they had seen each other cry for the first time. It took quite a lot for either of them to shed tears, but attempted suicide seemed to do the trick.

At some points, Roy wanted to shake the boy as hard as he could and yell at him, "Why? Why did you do it?" But then, he knew why, at least on a factual level. Edward's repeated setbacks and failures for the past two years quite understandably led to depression. But while Roy would have accepted such an explanation for someone he didn't know, he somehow couldn't fathom how the Edward Elric he knew could lose so much hope that he'd try to end his life.

Did he need to say something? Edward wasn't desperately searching for a way to snuff out his life anymore; he'd mumbled a promise that he wouldn't try again. But the old Edward still wasn't there, and Roy didn't know how to call him back.

In the end, it was Edward who spoke first. "Why are you still here?" he asked, in that pitifully small voice that was so different from his usual boisterous one. It reminded one how young he truly was.

Roy looked over in surprise. "What?"

"Afraid I'm going to try again?" Instead of the bitterness Roy would have expected from such words, he only heard weariness.

"Can't say the thought hasn't crossed my mind," he replied tightly.

"I promised."

"You also promised to get your brother's body back, no matter what."

Edward flinched, and Roy instantly regretted his words. Failure was the last thing he needed to think about right now. After a long minute where Roy tried to think of some way to fix his blunder, Edward whispered, "Yeah. I messed up pretty bad, didn't I?"

"Look, Ed-"

Moving with the same weariness he'd shown all day, Edward turned at last to look Roy in the eye. "I'm stuck," he said bleakly. He gazed at his superior for a long moment, then took a deep breath as though steeling himself. "All this time, I've been searching for some way...but I never seem to get any closer to my goal. It..." He closed his eyes, his brows drawing together as he searched for the right word. "...hurts."

Roy gazed at him, almost afraid to breathe. The boy had never opened up like this to him before. He must really be at the end of his rope.

Slowly, Edward opened his eyes again, staring up at the ceiling. "And it just kept hurting...and I didn't know what to do...so I tried to make it stop. But I just made things worse, didn't I?"

Roy sighed. "Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you try to get help? We would have, if we'd just known..."

"It was my problem. You had nothing to do with it."

Roy fell silent, thinking over this day that had gone so wrong. He thought of the way Edward had acted that morning, how everyone had noticed he was much calmer than usual. But no one had thought to ask. Roy should have realized something was wrong, or at least have done more than be relieved he didn't have a shouting teenager to contend with. "But I should have," he said softly, staring at his hands as they dangled between his knees. "I'm sorry. When you borrowed Hughes's knife...I should have realized." Then he paused, brows knitting as he thought over what he'd just said. "Wait. You made it pretty obvious for an attempt on your life..."

"I wanted you to stop me."

Roy looked up in surprise. Edward was curled up even tighter than he had been before, eyes squeezed shut as though he was in pain. "You wanted us to stop you?" he echoed blankly.

"I wanted to think that I was...w-worth it." And tears began to seep from under his eyelids.

For a moment, Roy could only gape at him. Then he reached out and laid his hand on the closest bit of Edward's skin he could reach – his right ankle. "You're worth it," he murmured. "Edward, you are so worth it."

Edward was obviously trying to hold back his tears, but his shoulders shook with suppressed sobs. Shaking his head slightly, he pressed a fist against his trembling lips and tried to curl up even tighter, to hide his face from his superior.

This was the heart of the problem, right here. With a flash of clarity, Roy saw it and knew, at last, what to say. Leaning forward, he gently put a hand on the side of Edward's face and turned it towards him. "Look at me," he urged softly.

Edward obediently opened his eyes, looking at him with a defeated expression that said, Do your worst.

With a smile – not a confident smirk, but a slow soft smile – he caught Edward's gaze and held it. "You remember the day we met. Do you know what I saw, the first time I looked at you?"

Edward mutely shook his head, another silent sob shaking his whole body.

"I saw strength. Determination. More than just about anyone I'd ever met before. I saw a boy so intelligent he could perform transmutations many grown men never could, so focused he carried on beyond the point where most of us would give up. I saw someone who cared for his brother so much he would die for him, who would give up everything he had for the people he loved. And you know...over the years, as I've gotten to know you...I've realized I didn't even see the half of it."

He held Edward's gaze, and he could see his words sinking in. Those red-rimmed, teary golden eyes looked from one of his to the other, understanding slowly uncoiling in them. Roy slid his hand under Edward's shoulder, wondering if he would let him...

And before he knew what was happening, Edward was clinging to him with all his strength, letting go of every restraint, muffling his tears in Roy's shirt. He wept with all the weakness he felt, and all the strength Roy saw. He wept, finally letting out all his pain.

Roy wondered, as he held the boy close and failed abysmally at holding back his own tears, whether this was what it felt like to have a son.