Story: Mad World
Description: Based off of Mad World by Gary Jules. Please read the first half of the song lyrics to get it. (I originally had the song put in here, but somebody told me song fics are not allowed, I took out the lyrics.) This story can be Royai if you want to take it that way.
This was my first attempt at a song fic, so it's probably not that great.
...
He'd lost track of the number of people he'd killed. All the dead bodies he'd seen, of Amestrians and Ishvalans alike. He often saw the looks on his once innocent comrades' faces. Hughes, Riza... and so many others. They'd all been corrupted and had stained their hands just as he had. They all had the eyes of people who'd taken lives. Destroyed buildings, bombings, destruction, explosions, fires, gunshots, the smell of smoke and the faint smell of blood wafting in the air... They were all a very common occurrence the during the war, and it was all unforgettable. Even now, he could see the faces of certain people he'd killed when he tried to go to use his alchemy.
There were, in fact, times he couldn't even look even look at himself out of shame for the blood he'd stained his hands with and nightmares often plagued his sleep pretty much every night.
He knew that there had been no justification for their orders or what they did. There was no rhyme or reason for murdering so many people. The military was ruining the country, and he knew this. It hadn't accomplished anything except for adding to the body count.
He remembered the cries of young children and adults clear as day as if he was still hearing it.
He'd long sense began to numb to his emotions and feelings to the point it became his body's natural response to dealing with things at times. After all, his experience during the war hadn't only traumatized him, it had also hardened him. Many other soldiers had begun to do the same, and had been trained for it. Of course, there were ones like Kimblee who thrived off such a chaotic environment, and as such didn't need to detach themselves.
There were so many times he'd drank to the point of heavy intoxication, just to forget for a little while, to curb the pain and the guilt, to wash at least a little bit of it away with the alchohol. He knew it wasn't healthy, but he needed it. Of course, it only helped for so long.
After a while, due to influence from alcohol, he began to feel even more hopeless than before and began to see that his life going nowhere, he started to have doubts in himself and his ability to be a good leader (if he was even worthy of the title of 'Fuhrer'), he starting questioning his future and doubting that he even had one.
Eventually the mixture of conflicting feelings and self blame and other led to nagging thoughts and urges, that especially surfaced when he drank too much.
Just like right now.
"Colonel...!"
He was so lost in his thoughts and so out of it that he barely even registered Riza breaking through his barricaded door and approaching him with caution, concern in her eyes.
"Lieutenant..." Roy drawled, looking up at her, and tightening his grip. "leave..."
"I refuse, sir." Riza said firmly, but the frustration in her usually stoic voice was all too obvious. She sat down in front of him, desperate to separate him from the gun that he was holding to his head; the same gun he'd contemplated his life with multiple times. She held out her hand pleadingly. "Please... hand me the gun."
Perhaps it was just a trick of the light, Riza thought at first, but Roy almost looked like he was going to break down at any moment and was barely holding himself together.
"Why?" He asked.
"Because I don't want to lose you." Riza admitted without hesitation, gaining a single small pain-filled laugh from Roy.
"You know... It's kind of funny..." Roy's voice cracked. "I've killed so many others in my life, but whenever I want to die, I can't even bring myself to pull the damn trigger, even though I've tried so many times..." Roy said, before tears formed in the corners of his eyes. His facial expression turned to one of self-loathing and low key bitterness. "I'm such a coward, Hawkeye..."
"No..., you're not..." Riza shook her head, feeling her heart ripping to pieces at seeing her superior, Roy of all people, feeling so hopeless. It was something she understood all too well from personal experience, which made it that much harder to deal with. But she had to be strong, for Roy.
When she noticed Roy become slightly less tense, she extended a hand, once again reaching out for the gun. This time Roy didn't reject it.
"You're human..." Riza spoke softly, working his fingers' grip off of the gun, before placing it aside and then holding his hands in hers.
It was in that moment that something in him snapped, and all of his walls of defense broke. His shoulders began to tremble and without thinking, he tightly embraced Riza, tears falling from his cheeks.
Riza hugged him back, with a pained expression, rubbing circles into his back.
He didn't know what to say. Hell, there was probably nothing he could say at this point.
After all, the silent screams spoke so much louder than any words he could have said.
Besides, Riza and him didn't need words. After all, she, again, understood all too well the scars that the Ishval massacre had created in the hearts of so many involved.
And it wasn't something that could solved with an "It's okay", because it wasn't okay, and It would never be okay. What happened was wrong on every level, but it was what it was, and they had to accept that, and just work in whatever way they could to prevent the same thing from happening again, no matter how much it felt like they were running in circles.
...
A/N: I thought Mad World fit Roy, but I'm super tired and haven't had any sleep in a couple days, so it may be OOC.