DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, and I am in no way affiliated with the author(s), producer(s) or publisher(s). I am writing strictly for entertainment purposes with no material or monetary gain.
Carry On, Soldier
Edward took a long drink of water, tipping his head back to drain the glass in a single go. With a sigh he let the glass down on the marble-top counter, wiping his brow with his gloved right hand. Roy set his own glass down after a moment, as well, and the two of them rested. They'd spent all day moving boxes. The one out of which they'd rescued the glasses lay open on the counter, showing the white stuffing inside, cradling the remainder of the set. The rest of the "kitchen" boxes were stacked at the other end of the counter, all labeled thoroughly in Roy's careful handwriting. Despite the fact that he'd checked many times, Ed couldn't help but feel he'd left something at the house he'd spent the last seven years living in. In the end, he supposed it didn't matter. No mere object was so important to him he'd not be able to live his new life without it.
Just a few minutes prior they'd finally dismissed the moving crew, who had moved only the things he and Mustang couldn't lift by themselves, and had driven the truck. Edward had been sure to leave them a generous tip earlier that morning. Being that they were military, that wasn't strictly necessary, but it helped ensure nothing either of them owned walked off without their consent. It was far less likely to happen to officers of their rank, but it was better to be safe than sorry, after all.
Suddenly Edward was pulled out of his thoughts by the silence in the room, the heaviness that had fallen between the two of them, there in that as-yet unfamiliar kitchen. He didn't look above the marble, though he could feel Roy's eyes on him. This was it. From now on, his life was changed in a way he had simply never imagined. Somehow it didn't seem real.
"Well," said Mustang finally. "I suppose I ought to be off."
Edward nodded, chest feeling tight and strange. It didn't ache with sadness, as it had in the past, it didn't relish an angry burn, it didn't feel heavy with guilt. Just strange. Empty.
"Alright," he said lightly, forcing his eyes to meet the dark ones staring at him from across the counter.
"Will you be alright here?" Mustang asked, and there was no inflection to it, no hidden meaning; tempered to be exactly neutral.
"Yeah," he replied, and reciprocated. A careful equal exchange. "Alright at your place?"
"Yes," Roy said without hesitation. "I quite like it."
"Yeah. It was a steal."
Silence fell again, and Edward crossed his arms over his chest unconsciously, as though to protect him from the feeling within it, or perhaps the lack of such. Things weren't happening the way he'd imagined. This didn't feel like the definitive moment it ought to…instead the events of the day were slipping past almost unnoticed, like the mundane routines of every day.
Roy hadn't moved. Edward had an equal part in this, and he cleared his throat to speak up, to support his half of the unanimous decision.
"Watch it out there, alright? Roads're a bit slippery."
He nodded, and pushed away from the counter.
"I will. Goodbye, Ed."
And suddenly it hit him—suddenly the presence of the moment was there, in all its forceful reality. The sight that was his lover of nearly ten years, framed in the doorway of a house they'd never share.
Edward clenched his jaw and refused to drop his eyes.
"Goodbye, Roy."
With that, he was gone, and Edward was alone in the house. Alone with the choice they'd made. Alone with an empty twin-sized bed, with one pair of boots by the door. Alone with one uniform in the closet, extra-small. Alone with a single set of keys. They had agreed... it had been a mutual and firm decision. Though sadness still eluded him, the emptiness remained.
Edward was good; he did not allow himself to call the number on the scrap of paper on his table. He kept busy, remained focused at work. Spent time on the house, though he privately doubted it would ever be a home. A month later, he received an envelope containing his portion of the money from the sale of property they'd shared, along with a note hoping he was well. The envelope was branded with no postage, and Edward tried not to wonder if Roy had lingered on the stoop.
Three months later found him in Central Command on an errand—still a military dog, following the pull of his leash—and as such coincidences would be, he passed a dark-haired general in the east wing. Edward was good; he ignored the dark circles under his eyes, ignored the way his hair seemed a bit greyer, his face a bit wiser. Most of all he ignored his eyes and their subtle pull, unchanged since the day he'd first met him.
"General," Edward said with a salute.
"Colonel," Mustang replied in kind. "I take it things are well in lab four?"
"Yes, sir," he confirmed.
"Very well. Carry on, soldier."
With that they passed each other, and Edward felt it was fitting, as he listened to his retreating footsteps. They were no longer on the same path. Perhaps…truthfully, perhaps they never had been.
Edward finished his business and returned to the lab, but his thoughts remained in that stark hallway with the memory of him.
Roy had said so many words, from the time Edward was a child, but there were some things that stayed with him no matter how his situation changed. Through every stage in his life, it seemed, some words would ring in his head… would manage to encompass his life, manage to ground him, settle him. Like a rock, they were something stable, strong, definite. Edward didn't take well to orders, especially from Mustang, but he'd found himself following Roy's words all his life, and never had they turned him wrong. Now, as always without that intention, he had done it again… had given him the words that would define his life from this point.
Someone called him, and he looked up at his second lieutenant, who was watching him with scrutinizing eyes. Edward took a breath, straightened up in his seat. For the first time since he'd watched Roy walk through that door, he felt he was back in the present…released from the dreamlike wandering of the past few months. Like the final piece of a puzzle, those words had made everything clear.
"Sir?" his lieutenant asked suspiciously.
Edward met his eye for a moment, then nodded to the work that the man was in the midst of completing.
"Carry on, soldier."