Chapter One: The Stupid Thing Called Compassion

Hey there, pEpper13 here! Sooo yeah, a little about me before we begin… First of all, I can't say what you can expect as far as updating goes… As of right now, I'm a senior in high school fast approaching graduation… which means lots of busywork! Also I'm leaving for TWO WHOLE MONTHS this summer to be a counselor at a summer camp. And then after I get back I'll be starting college, double majoring in lots of English stuff…

All of this is to say, I'm not sure how often I'll be updating this fic… honestly it's more of a stress-reliever than anything else. I have lots of other writing I need to do (mostly essays for scholarship applications YAY) and obviously this takes second priority. But I will try to be as faithful as I can to updating this and any other stories I might start! I've had this idea stewing in my mind for a month or two and I'm pretty excited about it now that I've started writing it down!

This first chapter is pretty short… hopefully future chapters will be longer! Honestly I wasn't even going to post this. I was just writing it for fun, and the only reason I made a fanfiction account was to follow an author… But I figured I might as well get some feedback on this while I'm at it.

Oh one more thing you might like to know… I have read all the Fullmetal Alchemist manga books and seen a few episodes of the anime (both the original and Brotherhood) but the majority of my knowledge comes from the manga itself! So that is where I am drawing most of my information for the characters and their backstories.

Soooo after that long ramble, I hope you enjoy!

"You should go home, sir. It looks better to sleep on your bed than on your desk."

I slowly lifted my head from the stack of papers I'd been drooling on as a pillow. Blinking weariness from my eyes, I nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant." I glanced at the window. It was dark. "We should both be home, you are dismissed."

The lieutenant saluted. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Lieutenant Hawkeye."

Hawkeye gathered her things and left the office, her stoic posture never betraying her own exhaustion. Guiltily, I stood and grabbed my military jacked from the back of my desk chair; Lieutenant Hawkeye had only stayed so late because of me.

I yanked the jacket back on, but didn't bother to button it closed. It looked sloppy, but no one would be around to see it. No one of importance, anyway. I flicked off the lights and exited the room, locking the door behind me. The hallway empty, no sounds beside the faint hum of fluorescent lights and Hawkeye's soft footsteps fading away.

Thinking of nothing but my quiet apartment and warm bed, I followed her, much more slowly, to the parking lot. Hawkeye's car was long gone by the time I exited the building. I took a moment to savor the crisp night air before fishing in my pockets for my keys.

"Late night, Roy?"

The keys hit the pavement with a clatter. Every muscle in my body tensed and my blood went cold at the sound of a female voice. But I didn't reach for my ignition gloves. I knew the voice well, though it had been years since I'd last heard it.

I didn't turn to her. "What do you want, Kate?"

"I wanted to see you. You're looking well, Roy."

Slowly, I turned my head to the left. "So are you."

Kate gave me a pained smile. She wasn't looking anything even close to well; it was a little startling actually. I hardly recognized her.

"What do you want, Kate?" I repeated.

"Roy… it's not like that. Not this time."

"Kate!" She flinched. "What do you want from me?"

She ventured a step nearer. "A place to stay… a hot meal? Please, Roy."

I scoffed. "So you can leave without warning a week later, taking anything that's not tied down with you? We've been here before, and we both know how it ends."

"No, it's different this time. This is the longest I've ever been clean; eight months, Roy. I'm for real this time."

"Eight months?" I was skeptical. "How'd you manage that?"

"A rehab house took me in. You can't believe how good they've been to me."

"Why aren't you there then?"

"There's only so much room with them… Once a patient makes a recovery, they're discharged. It's how it has to be." I made no answer. "I don't trust myself to be alone yet. I thought… if I can't get help from my big brother, then who else can I turn to?"

I cursed her inwardly. It was just like my sister to lay on the guilt to get what she wanted. But she had a point. If her own family wouldn't take her in, who would?

"Come on then," I muttered, stooping to pick up the keys.

She said nothing, like she hadn't heard me. I looked at her again. "Thank you," she whispered.

I didn't reply, and she knew enough to keep her distance as I crossed the parking lot to my car. "Sit where you want," I told her as I yanked open the driver's side door. Gingerly, my sister slid into the passenger seat. No words passed between us during the fourteen minute drive. Kate kept her eyes glued to her hands in her lap, while mine never left the road.

When I turned off the engine in front of my first floor apartment, I counted on her to follow me. I didn't look over my shoulder, but I could hear her labored breathing. She was sick, which didn't surprise me.

I let her into the apartment first, locking the door behind us. She didn't venture more than five feet from the door. I dropped my keys on the kitchen counter and flipped the light switch… and held back a gasp.

Kate had always been small, but she'd spent a few years in the military. Her body now hardly had any fat on it, never mind extra muscle. Her hair – no, her whole body – looked as if it hadn't been washed for quite a while.

She frowned. "Not pretty, am I?" She tugged the neck of her poorly fitted shirt where it had slid off one of her bony shoulders.

"Need anything?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "Just your couch for tonight.

I focused on her matted hair and dirty clothes that were far too big for her. "Wait here."

I walked into my bedroom and pulled a clean t-shirt and a pair of boxers from my dresser. Not the best, but it was better than what she was wearing now. I handed them to her back in the kitchen. "Here; throw away what you have on now."

"Thanks," she said. I showed her the bathroom and a clean washcloth so she could clean up a bit if she wanted to. I left her alone while I went to set up her bed on the couch with spare blankets and pillows.

Kate reappeared a moment later, her arms wrapped across her chest. She instantly draped a blanket over her shoulders. "Cold?" I asked. She nodded.

"You've got plenty of blankets here. I'll be right there in the next room, wake me if you need anything. I'll be gone tomorrow, early."

Kate nodded. "Goodnight, Roy."

I shifted uncomfortably. "Goodnight."

Only when I was behind my bedroom door did I allow myself to breathe. I thought back to the last time she'd shown up out of the blue, claiming to be clean. A week later she was gone, having taken all the money she could find to pay for her addictions. That was when I decided I was done with her.

And yet here we were again. I'd let her into my house and she was sleeping on my couch. Stupid Roy, so stupid, I told myself. I had let a thief and an addict into my house, it didn't matter whether or not she was family. But I had to let her stay, didn't I? That was the stupid thing called compassion.