Show me a hero

Summary: Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy.

Rated: T

It was the year 1914 that changed everything, the year where it began.

The First World War.

Countries plummeted into chaos, families torn apart, lives lost and a region of terror taking nearly the entirety of the world in its deadly jaws. Many lives were lost, both young and old, and nobody really knew anymore for what they were fighting for.

Ed also joined the war, despite not being able to perform alchemy like he once could, not being a State Alchemist anymore, he could only watch as he battled with the foot soldiers as his other friends beat the higher ups with their alchemical prowess. Mustang had finally become Führer, a dream come true at the same time the war broke out.

It had come as a harsh slap to the face, a wake-up call really, something to remind them that, despite having beaten the threat of Father and the Homunculi, there were many more to be beaten. The world wasn't safe and it never would be.

Ed often thought about Winry and about their children at home, he often thought about Al and his family, about teacher, Mustang, everyone else. He wondered how Ling was fairing back at Xing, waging his own war against the rebelling Aerugo, who not until recently, didn't even posses any military might of their own until Drachma has interfered and supplied them with weapons and soldiers.

Edward had been forced to kill in his time as a member of the State Military, that harsh reality had been thrust upon him at a young age, but he had never seen so much bloodshed in such a short time. Not even five days ago since the start of this full scale war and already there were numerous bodies, friend and foe alike, littering the streets of Central, blood soaking the cobblestone, imprinting itself into its surface so its existence isn't forgotten, as if he could forget, as if anyone could forget.

He didn't know if he would get out of this alive, he doubted it. He already sustained several injuries, he may have killed off a good portion, but with his injuries and if he sustained any more, there was no telling how long he would survive. He had to scoff, having rapid healing abilities like the Homunculi used to have could come quite in handy about now.

He dodged a incoming thrust of a dagger to his head before slamming the hilt of his gun hard against the skull of an incoming Drachma soldier, cracking his skull as his limp body fell to the floor in small, sporadic spasms, a pool of blood gathering at his writhing head.

Ed panted, body heaving as he tried regaining control of himself. Seeing blood wasn't anything new to him, killing wasn't new to him, but actually feeling how he killed off his foes and seeing life slowly fade from them...it was a whole new experience, a experience Ed won't forget any time soon.

He moved from his position in the city to Central Headquarters, trying to contact Mustang to see if they needed any help. He wasn't answering, so Ed picked up his pace, counting the minutes in his head, slinging an abandoned rifle along the way and checking its ammunition.

He was armed to the tooth, but in times of war, nobody could be armed too much. He hissed sharply when he felt a sharp stinging sensation on his calf and he turned to see a soldier's bullet had just grazed the flesh of his calf, thankfully missing it's target, but the painful reminder of his carelessness still reminded Ed to be more alert as he shot the soldier a hole through the head.

The minutes it took to get to the tall, partially broken down building were agonizing, minutes where Ed was counting his blessings to still be alive despite his numerous injuries.

The door had long been destroyed, he molded himself to the wall, senses on guard as he listened for any enemy movement.

When he heard a noise to his right flank, Ed moved, pivoting around the corner he had been hiding behind and falling on one knee, hand on the trigger and rifle aimed at the soldier's head.

White, blood stained gloves with a familiar alchemy symbol were poised ready, fingers positioned into a snap right in front of Ed's eyes as he recognized who he thought to be his enemy.

Both men lowered their weapons and Ed stood up, surveying Mustang's condition, "Heh, they got you good huh?" his comment was dry and his voice nearly came out as a pained wheeze.

Blood soaked Roy's sides, a part of his right pants leg was torn and bloodied, messily torn flesh visible underneath the feeble cover of his duty pants, dried blood covered the side of his face, smudged on some parts, his left forearm was exposed and the torn part of his sleeve had been messily wrapped around what Ed deduced to be a flesh wound, blood very much visible, soaking the dark blue material of his uniform.

Roy smirked, almost painfully so and sighed heavily, "Looks I'm not the only one that got beaten up,"

Ed mirrored his expression, frankly unable to deny the blatant truth of that statement. He had a cracked rib or two, numerous cuts and slash wounds from swords mainly to his torso, a bullet wound on his calf and thigh and a deep cut to his shoulder.

The blond experimentally rolled said shoulder and hissed sharply when a flurry of pain assaulted him again.

"Can't argue there, Colonel Smartass," Ed grinned.

Roy smirked, adjusting his uniform, "It's Führer Smartass now, thank you," he turned around, tightening his gloves, serious aura enveloping them again, "Can you still fight?"

Trying to make the action appear as casual as possible, Ed lifted the rifle to rest on his good shoulder, smirking cockily, "Tch, I should be asking you that old man," he craned his neck, feeling inflamed nerves ringing with pain.

Roy suppressed a cough and swallowed down the blood slowly gathering in his mouth, "Good, that's what I like to hear,"

Ed's expression grew grim, "How many?" his voice nearly broke.

Roy tightened his jaw, "Many,"

Ed cursed, straightening his posture, "Where's Hawkeye? And the rest?"

Roy remained silent and a sense of dread began to fill him before Roy spoke up, "I've ordered Havoc and Breda to bring her to safety, she sustained life threatening injuries," Ed's initial panic subsided, "We're alone now, Fullmetal,"

Ed smirked, seeing a oncoming platoon of Drachman soldiers marching their way, "Good," he stepped forward, grabbing a grenade from his back pocket, "That means we can let loose, right?"

Roy smiled, coming to stand beside him, hands flexed and poised ready, fire burning brightly in his eyes as they zeroed in on their enemies, "There will be hell to pay,"

Ed smirked, readying his weapon, "Hell yeah,"