Disclaimer: I don't own FMA... or these pants.
What makes a person that one person, the one you sing for, the one you cry for, the one you live for and the one you die for?
Edward sat on the ground and looked at yet another grave. He was tired of seeing graves and keeping grave secrets. He was twenty and already a widower, but why he surprised? Why was he even fucking surprised? He reached out with his automail hand and traced the words 'Winry Elric'. He was such a fool. Why did he think being closer to her would save her from it all?
The tall grass swayed in forgotten winds. It would have been the two year anniversary of their elopement but instead it was the one year anniversary of her death and Edward's foolishness. The war had made fools out of everyone. Ed picked up his discarded red jacket and hung it over the tombstone. Even after a year, he could still hear her screaming for him, telling him not to be a hero and run, but Ed hadn't. Elrics never run even when they should.
"You shouldn't have come for me," Edward whispered to no one. "You should have listened when I said don't follow. You should have fucking ran while you still could."
His hands were in his brown trouser pockets and his high pony tail flicked viciously in the torrent of air around him. He could even hear her sarcastic reply of then just being stabbed in the back instead of the front.
Killing Envy afterwards had been ironic. Instead of feeling satisfaction, for taking down his wife's murder, he felt jealous, envious, of the man being able to just die. Edward was forced to live by country and by conscience. At the time there were still more homunculi to slay even if there was no longer a Winry to hold.
With one last look at his symbolic red coat, he left the Resembool graveyard. The Edward who loved that coat died on the same day the one he loved more died. It was only fair they hold each other in death.
Lieutenant Colonel Elric left and never looked back.
It was hard some days for Roy to sign paper work without being held at gun point, but 'some days' were always less then 'every night'. Every night was the same cold and lonely shadow of its former glory. He longed for the piles of paper to build up so he would be forced to sleep on his office sofa and forget about his apartment. Roy longed to forget it all, every article of clothing left behind, every piece of moved furniture, and every night he slept alone, without Riza by his side.
The office was empty and dark as he finished his pile. It would have been the two year anniversary of their elopement but instead it was the one year anniversary of her death and Roy's foolishness. The war had made fools out of everyone. Roy looked at his discarded uniform jacket, complete with its heroic war medals, and left it on the back of his chair. He wouldn't need it anymore.
Even after a year, Roy could still see her face as she bled to death silently in his arms. The bullet to the back of her head to exit through her left eye had killed her instantly. If only he had seen Archer coming up the walkway, if only he had pushed her aside when she hugged him in relief that he was safe, if only he had not involved her in his plans to destroy the Furher, she would still be alive.
"I shouldn't have let you come with me," Roy whispered to no one. "I shouldn't have killed him because now he can't kill me too. I'm shouldn't have embraced and distracted you when it matter most."
He closed his eyes to hold back a sudden wave of tears. He could even hear her causal reply of then just being shot in the front instead of the back.
Roy circled his office in silence, looking over every detail in silent prayer that it held as many memories for its next occupant as it had for him. That is why he had to leave. Roy was forced to live by country and by conscience. At the time there was still a State to save even if there was no longer a Riza to cherish.
With one last looked at his symbolic coat, he left the Central office. The Roy who strived to earn that coat of medals died on the same day the one he strived harder to worthy of died. It was only fair that they remain here in death.
Corporal Mustang left and never looked back.
Swift as the Wind
Edward turned chair to face the window behind him. The Central Parade grounds were a glow in the twilight and he wondered what should be his next course of action. Somehow sending just Breda and Havoc no longer seemed wise. It was too late to recall them though; they were already on the train to the northern outpost. He thought it was pointless, Mustang doesn't want to be found so he should be left that way.
"Colonel, why are you still here?"
Newly promoted Colonel Elric turned to face a familiar Central Office, his First Lieutenant looking at him with a puzzled face. It had been his for almost a year now, since its predecessor left. He found it horribly unjust that Mustang left the job that was his whole life and Edward left his whole life to take the man's job. He had the same office, same staff and same job of scouting new alchemists and dealing with alchemy related problems in the country.
"Ross, the real question is: why are you still here?" Edward asked from his leather chair. His long tail was still bound high on the back of his head and his gaze even.
"I came back to make sure you went home Sir." Maria Ross kept her straight stance, looking straight ahead with straight lips. Edward hated it, straight was just so straight.
"How many times have I told you? There is no need for that formality when it's just us. How long have we known each other?" Edward asked as he got up from his desk to look at his book collection. When he took the office, he had filled it with every research book and journal he had. They were all encoded but the shelves look more uniform. Different colour spines meant interpreting the code with a different key. To anyone who read them, it was just a very details collection of books on Amestris's land, history, culture and future. They were horribly accurate also, if you could read Ishbalian. Edward fingered a book spine, trying, not for the first time, to convince himself he wasn't obsessive to a dangerous degree.
"We've known each other since you were fifteen and I've worked under you since you were twenty… So that's six years." She remained at attention.
"That's long enough to quit it with all this formal bull. Maria, sit down. How are Denny and the kids?" Edward inquired and sat on one of the sofas, indicating she should take the other. Maria Ross sighed and gave in with a plop onto the leather cushion.
"He's taken being a stay-at-home-father too seriously. If he rearranges all the furniture one more time I think I may have to kill him. I can't find anything. Also, the floors are too shiny, I can see my reflection and the kids have taken to wearing only sock so they can skate around. I've had to restock my supply of bandages twice this month. Last week he bought seven different shades of beige paint cans. He claims it's 'to give the dinning room more dimension'. I don't see how, it only has four walls."
Edward listened to her stories of home life eagerly. He would never admit it, but he had once wanted a family of his own, but now that was gone. He was merely content to watch the families around him grow. Even Al was starting one with a lovely girl he met during his post wartime volunteer work. Edward had only met her once, but Noah made Al happy, that's all that matter. They lived together with Granny Pinako back in Resembool. Edward thought distantly how he hadn't gone back once since that day.
"Ed, why don't you go home and visit your brother for a week? Havoc and Breda will be gone for a while, knowing them and their 'pit stops'. You could go and be back before they even leave that snowball of an outpost." Maria said softly.
Edward gave her a knowing look. "You know I can't. There is too much work to do here. This office won't function properly if three of us were out. You know that. And don't think you are being cleaver, I see what you're doing and the answer is fuck no. I am never going back to that middle of nowhere pit of a place."
Maria sighed again and got up. "You need to go make peace with yourself. Don't think I don't know what day is coming up. I think you need to go before you face another one of those anniversaries alone."
The three year anniversary of their elopement, the two year anniversary of her death and Edward's foolishness, that anniversary.
"I appreciate your concern," Edward said offhandedly, they'd had this conversation before, "but why don't you just go home. You have children there who actually need mothering." It was hard to keep the bitter edge out of his voice. First Lieutenant Ross huffed and left. Edward made a note to apologise to her tomorrow but as quickly as he thought that, she stuck her head back in through the doorway.
"How are you so certain you don't need any mothering? You look after all of us, but who looks after you?" She said but didn't wait for an answer because she knew better.
Edward got off his couch and went over to his desk. It was finally dark outside. Even with the city lights he could make out two or three stars. Resembool had a whole sky full of twinkling lights, unlike here. He gave them a dirty look as if they agreed with Ross. He needed no one.
He sat down in his chair and picked up the file he had previously left there. It was Mustang's military profile. Edward had been reading it over and over, trying to piece together a way to bring the man back from his self appointed exile. It came to the point that Edward felt like he was invading the man's privacy and even knowing all those details, Edward came up with nothing. All those years he longed to know about the man's past, now it seemed surreal, to have access to his file. He was ordered to recall Colonel Mustang back to his rank and position. After that he was to work under Mustang as his second in command of the newly created alchemy division. That was what parliament wanted but they failed to realise what is was they asked. Just because on paper Mustang was by far more than adequate choice for said position did not him make him the best choice.
Ed ran his finger over the date of Mrs. Riza Mustang's death. If they really were alike, nothing would bring Roy Mustang back into that office. Edward pulled out the necessary documentation to travel. He was going to see his former commanding officer without a plan.
"Sir, you are being recalled to your former duties," Breda said in an overly formal voice. Roy continued to survey the frozen land outside his small window. It had been so long since he'd seen his men last, but Breda and Havoc were no longer his. He wondered who their colonel was now.
"Yeah chief, we've been ordered to bring you back with us willingly," spoke Havoc causally while search for his cigarette pack. Roy could tell by the sudden lack of rustling that he found his prize.
Roy turned finally spoke, "Willingly, that seems an odd order. Whoever sent you must not really want me back there. They merely sent you so that they may write it off quickly and move on to more pressing matters."
"Chief, that ain't true and if you'd only come back, you'd see it yourself." Havoc stated and lit a match. They had already been over this countless times. Roy found his once friends to be crowding and overbearing. It made him dizzy. A sensible part of his mind said they weren't and it was only his year of isolation that made them appear as so. He had been alone too long for conversations. Roy decided instead to watch the two soldiers try and find something in the empty cabin to look at besides him.
Roy knew they would never understand him and probably felt abandoned. He never meant to leave them behind, but he couldn't stay in that office, in that life… in this life.
It only took two more failed attempts of small talk and not convincing arguments before the two men left Corporal Mustang, much to his relief. The sounds of voices echoing made him uncomfortable. He couldn't stand it.
He lay in bed later, looking at the ceiling with his two blank eyes. He couldn't stand it any longer, not a day, not a moment, not a lifetime. He leaped from under the sheets and pushed the bed hurriedly aside. On the floor were elegantly burned lines in the worn wood and a large basin full of the proper ingredients. He looked it over; remembering each detail from the Elric's home on that rainy night so long ago. He had memorized the complex collage of lines and made modifications so that it would work properly. Roy's breath was coming in pants. Tonight was that anniversary.
The three year anniversary of their elopement, the two year anniversary of her death and Roy's foolishness, that anniversary.
Tonight was the night he had been waiting for. The array was at last perfected. There would be no need for automail afterwards because he was an adult and could handle the reaction. He would bring her back to atone for his sins and if he failed, then he would be dead. That would also make things right.
The harsh silence of winter made the pumping of his pulse louder. His fingers twitched in anticipation as he placed them on the floor just beside the large array. This was it, his moment in time to right all his wrongs.
Roy pulled out his pocket knife and looked at the shiny steel. A young boy with a metal arm and leg looked at him through the reflection, reminding him of consequences. Roy ignored the phantom and cut his finger, letting the blood drop into the basin.
"It's ready Riza, just hold on a moment longer," he whispered.
Roy placed his hands on the array and activated it with a push of his mind. A whirl of golden light surrounded him in glorious wonder. He could feel the majestic quality of some higher power. It was like brushing up against a god and suddenly Roy believed in Truth. Riza's voice was calling out to him; she was just a touch away when everything went wrong, horribly wrong.
The colours around him change to a sickly purple and he was consumed with that familiar stench of burned flesh. Eerie screeching resonated off the cabin walls. Roy looked up and an infinite amount of eyes stared back. The screeching stopped when the Gate doors were open all the way.
"Wha—no. No… NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
END
Author's Note: This is one of a four part series that wouldn't leave me alone. I technically made this for Marylover, she asked for a snowyoutpost!Roy fic months ago, but I have to say that I love it for my own selfish purposes. It's stylish with an underlying sense of grief and fear. I hope you enjoyed it and I hope even more that someone recognised the chapter title.
Anyways… :D