A silence has settled over the house now. He does not look at Roy, and Roy does not look at him. In bed, they lie as far away from each other as possible. It's a matter of centimetres, really – Edward could easily reach over and touch Roy. But it feels like miles. And soon, he knows, they will be separated by more than that.
He has a week left, and neither of them wants to admit it.
Edward thinks of other people who have their loved ones with them til the last. He thinks of how they spend every moment together, laughing and talking and enjoying each other as much as they can, until only one of them is left. He would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous. He doesn't want this distance. He doesn't want to be treated as a ghost; he doesn't want Roy to act as if he's already dead. He wants Roy to look at him and love him as a human. Because that is what Edward fears the most. He does not fear leaving this world behind. He does not fear the unknown. He does not fear Death, or the suffering that will surely come after. He fears being remembered.
Edward knows Roy, and he is sure that in the colonel's mind, Edward is being refabricated. He is sure that Roy is putting him onto a pedestal – forming him into some sort of divine creature; ethereal and unreachable. Something he does not deserve. Edward knows it is to cope with the loss, but it terrifies him. For, who else is there to remember? Alphonse is gone. The team does not know him. They, and everyone else, see him as a saviour. To them, he is the Hero of the people. He is the one who has solved their problems and chased the demons away. He has given them their happy ending.
They do not know that he will never get his.
But Roy is different, because he knows. He has seen Edward at his lowest – lost and broken and lonely. Roy has watched him rise above the sorrow to become stronger and smarter (if only on the outside). He has seen Edward shoulder the weight of the world and keep fighting anyway. Roy has seen Edward save lives, and take them too. He has seen him cry, and held him on the nights where he can't sleep. Roy has listened to him recount his nightmares, voice hollow. Roy knows his mind; he knows not only its brilliance, but also the demons that lurk there. Roy knows his body, which is more scar tissue than flesh. He knows it and he knows the automail, and he loves them. Roy has seen him lose everything, and still, he has stayed and welcomed Edward with open arms. He knows Edward as he really is – lost, and broken, and lonely. Human. But he will not remember Edward this way.
And really, Edward knows that he does not deserve to be remembered like that. Humans are pure and wonderful - quintessentially beautiful. He is poisoned. He is cursed. His metal limbs have marked him out as subhuman for as long as he can remember. He does not deserve to be remembered properly. He does not deserve to be honoured.
It is three days before he is supposed to die, and Edward accidentally meets Roy's eyes as they pass in the hallway. They are red-rimmed. There are dark circles that he knows were not there before. His cheeks are tearstained, and he looks gaunt. Roy is not quick enough to hide the pain in his expression when he sees Edward, and he ducks his head and walks quickly by. Edward is rooted to the spot, and he is sure that an eternity of suffering will never be as painful as this.
It is this encounter that takes him to Riza.
'Edward,' she seems surprised to find him on her doorstep. He stopped keeping in contact with the team shortly after he found out his time was coming. It has been ten years, and she has aged. She is a little more plump than he remembers, and there is the beginning of soft creases at the corners of her eyes. But she is still beautiful, as she always has been. 'I won't say I'm not surprised, but it's good to see you. Come in.'
He forces a smile and follows her to the kitchen table. He remembers sitting here with her before, listening to her talk about the horrors of Ishval. The memory is like a knife in his heart, and he blinks back tears. Ten years of separation has not dulled his fondness for Team Mustang, and he desperately wishes that he didn't have to go.
'I doubt this is a social call,' Riza Hawkeye watches him shrewdly, carefully. Their relationship has been a little strained; he knows that she holds the same affection for Roy Mustang that he does.
'I'm going to die soon,' Edward says matter-of-factly. Riza's eyes widen, but he continues. 'I'd rather you didn't ask questions. Just – my time's almost up. I've got two days left. And, yes, that's why I cut myself off back then,' he can see the question in her eyes, and she deserves an answer. 'But it doesn't matter now, okay? I… Riza, I need you to do me a favour.'
'I'm listening.' She says, with the formality and determination that he remembers from his time in the military. He thinks for a moment that if it wasn't Roy, it would have been her. But the thought is useless, and he lets it go.
'You've never stopped loving him, have you?' Edward asks quietly. He has to force the words out. He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want to be deciding Roy's fate. He doesn't want someone else to come in and take his place. He doesn't want someone else to hold Roy and love him and share their life with him. He doesn't want Roy to move on.
He doesn't want Roy to forget him.
'No,' Riza's voice is controlled. She is wary, but now is not the time for tact.
'I want you to take care of him for me.' Edward can feel his heart breaking into shreds at the hopeful look on her face, but he doesn't care. 'I want you to help him. I… I don't want you to take my place. We're different people, after all. But I want you to be there for him.'
The next sentence is the most painful thing he's ever had to say.
'I want you to make him forget me.'
Riza watches him carefully for a long time, and he knows that she is trying to figure him out. He imagines that she is silently picking apart his brain, absorbing the devotion and love for Roy. He imagines that she sees the desperation and the grief, and he knows what her answer will be long before she says it.
'I can't be like you,' she tells him. 'He'll never forget you.'
'I don't want you to be like me,' Edward replies. 'I want you to be better.'
She searches his face for a long time, and then she sighs heavily. 'I'll try, Edward.'
There are tears in his eyes as he stands up. 'Thank you.'
That night, he does not turn his back to Roy. He turns around and watches the expanse of Roy's back, trying to memorise the way it looks in the dark, the soft rise and fall of his breathing. He knows that Roy is only pretending to sleep, but he is surprised when Roy turns around to face him. Roy reaches out and tangles his fingers with Edward's, their hands resting in the space between them. They watch each other in silence, and Edward imagines that they are both silently telling each other everything they won't say. They will not say I love you – not now. It's too late, and saying it now will be too much and not enough.
Roy removes his hand from Edward's, and instead cups Edward's cheek with it, stroking his face gently. His eyes burn has he blinks back tears, instead putting his hand over Roy's. He has missed this. He does not want to leave it behind. He does not want to die. Roy opens his mouth to say something, and for a minute Edward thinks he's going to say I love you.
'Don't go,' Roy whispers instead.
For a moment, Edward feels human.