NOTE: This story is a combination AU, I took aspects from both the 2003 and the Brotherhood anime's. So listen up, Homunculi can be created both ways, this takes place after the ending of Brotherhood, except with the slight modification of Roy denouncing his position and taking up the post he had in Conquerer of Shamballa. I admit this will all get very confusing. So here is some information before we get started.

[THERE WILL BE SPOILERS]

This is mostly Brotherhood related
Alchemist's can create a Homunculus, but they must have one of the red stones
Homunculi created by Alchemist's can gather memories of their past lives but they are still simply false humans
Father imposed his teachings on Dante, whom he transferred part of himself to several months before his death
Dante seeks out alchemist created Homunculi to turn them to her and help her in her quest to resurrect Father
A Homunculi is inherently "good" (or whatever their creator/memories/others around them make them to be) before being manipulated by Dante via their Ouroboros tattoo
Roy has gained back his sight at this point with the help of Doctor Marcoh

So remember this is a combination AU! My friend and I created it for our RP and this is what it is. Don't like? That's fine, I'm not asking you to. I'm simply doing the decent thing and warning you

He had requested his stationing out there to put himself away from everything that reminded him of that day. It wasn't so much that he was a coward, or that he wanted to tarnish the memory of the one who had sworn to push him to the top. It wasn't that he was depressed or unsure, or lacking the confidence to step up and take what he'd worked so hard to obtain.

No, it was nothing like that.

It was because he was angry. Hughes had promised he'd stay under him, pushing him to the top, supporting him every step of the way. And not only did he have the nerve to die before he was through, but he outranked him in one fell swoop. He'd continued to convince himself, every time he stopped at the grave to leave flowers, that his best friend had been an idiot. He didn't ask him for help, he kept him in the dark, and he died breaking his promise.

And also-it wouldn't be the same.

Sure, he could have run things his way, he could have been the ideal leader Hughes said they just might need. He could have found a way and had all of his meticulous planning would have meant something. But-it didn't, not without his second in command, the person he trusted the most. And without Hughes there to motivate him, his idealistic views seemed to fade away after he had focused his entire being on avenging him.

So maybe-he had really come here to forget. It hit him when he got that visit, the visit he never expected to get way out here. He wasn't at his post at the time, he was investigating a small incident a few miles out. When he returned, there was nobody there. But he did trip over the box that was left on the ground, already buried in snow.

He'd mumbled something about its careless placement as he dug it out and carried it into the small cabin. He wouldn't even look at it for the next hour as he started a fire, and waited for the room to warm up. He relinquished some of his heavy clothing, set a kettle over the fire, and began cleaning up some of his things when he happened to glance at it again.

There was a letter on the top, but it was soaked through and the ink blurred. It seemed to have a dried a little, so he went over unpeeling each fold carefully, and attempted to decipher what was there. It didn't take long though-to realize who wrote it.

He knew the Lieut-the Brigadier General's handwriting anywhere.

Feeling like he'd just seen a ghost he fumbled with the paper dropping it onto the table hands shaking. He had to remind himself, seeing the date on it, that Hughes was gone. With that in mind he was able to pick it up again and slowly read through what he could. The letter wasn't to him though, it was to Gracia, so why was it left for him?

Gracia,

My wife, the love of my life. You know that if you're reading this I'm gone, and I selfishly left you and Elicia to fend for yourself. And for that I am truly sorry and can never pay you back for all the happiness you gave me in whatever extent I lived my life.

I'm so sorry I left you alone, and our beautiful daughter. I never got to see her grow up, keep the boys off of her, see her marry a strapping young man (someone just like me!) And see our beautiful grandchildren-great grandchildren.

Oh but listen to me getting ahead of myself! And I just have to apologize again...this letter isn't really about us.

I don't really know how to explain this, I think you've always known. Because you seem to know that there are certain things I can't share with you, and that I needed that one fallback. The one person who understands why I needed my best friend to be a constant in my life.

So, I didn't leave this box for you. But you're the only one I can trust to keep it safe and give it to him when the time is right. I know he seems a little rough around the edges, but he's always been focused, he does his best and I know you understand.

This is the last gift I can give him, since my love and life was devoted to you my darling, I had to put my best friend second. But you all need to know that everything I've ever done was to protect you. Yes, including him.

So please, stay safe, and tell Elicia how much daddy loves her. Every day.

With all of my heart-

Maes

He felt a pang of guilt, Gracia had gone out of her way to bring this to him. Why now? He didn't know, but he only wished he could have been there...if he could face her. He set aside the note and looked over the simple wooden box. It wasn't anything special from the outside, what could be so important that Hughes would have had Gracia keep it so safe and waiting for him. That he kept it so secret.

Placing a hand on the lid, it seemed to take an eternity to gain the courage to open it.

Inside, the box was filled to the brim with an overwhelming amount of memories. Pictures, letters between the two of them, letters of recognition from the military, encoded messages, objects, everything pertaining to their friendship from the moment they met till the day Hughes died. There was even Hughes' old throwing knife, the first one Roy had ever seen him have as he had accidentally thrown it right into his shoulder once during the academy.

It was so cheesy, sickeningly so, which is what made it so Hughes. But what got to him were the pictures, how did Hughes accumulate so many? He had grown so used to him snapping endless pictures of his daughter and wife that he'd never expected he had time for any others.

And that's when it hit him. He had truly forgotten-how much Hughes cared for him. Hughes wasn't just his best friend, he was Hughes' best friend as well. They had a bond that was indispensable and the Flame Alchemist had lost his grasp on the concept that Hughes was trying to protect him as well. That Hughes didn't carry pictures of him around because-because Roy had told him that would be the death of him.

All along he had tried just as hard to protect him. It never occurred to him, he never asked for protection, and Hughes never cared to tell him.

He hated crying, sobbing hurt even worse. It was the one thing in the world Roy believed the human race did to cause themselves immense, though unintentional pain. But he couldn't seem to stop it now, even as he sunk to his knees to alleviate the wave of dizziness, the ache in his heart that he'd repressed for so long refused to cease.

A heart that didn't belong to him, as it reached out desperately across the gate for the friend it longed to be with.

That's when he broke, that's when every last ounce of self-control he had snapped in half.

As he sloppily pulled himself together, he gathered the strength to go to his dresser, and pull out a picture he hadn't touched in a very long time. Because there was something very important in that picture, something that was about to change everything.

And something that the knew would cause him to denounce everything he'd once worked for.

Yet, Roy Mustang couldn't find it in himself to care.

Part 1 of Prologue