This is only my second published fanfic, and my very first EdRoy.
Warnings: Strong language, probably alchohol, definitely smoking, possible yaoi limes, maybe even lemons if I get up the courage. Oh, and angst.
Other Warnings: This is Alternate Reality, so I've switched around the times of things. When they happened I mean. I don't want to give anything away just yet, so I'll leave it at that.
---------------------
Roy Mustang stumbled and fell, swearing incoherently at the bartender who'd just thrown him out.
Drunk again. Kicked out again. Alone again. Roy picked himself up. Lost again. Cold again. He wiped his hands on his pant-legs to get the street-slush he'd fallen in off of them.
Someone in the dark night spotted his military uniform pants and started with the cat-calls.
"Whoa-ho! A military dog! Drinkin' away your life now that you're a hero, huh? Trying to forget all those people you killed? Try forgetting this, bastard!" From out of nowhere, a boot connected with Roy's ribs. Slamming down onto the sidewalk to the noise of his ribs cracking, Roy thought about reaching for his gun. Maybe pain would give him the determination to finally off himself. The man kicked him again and spat.
"Murderer." he walked off.
Roy cried for the hundredth time. He couldn't stop his mind from bringing up those memories again. An angry man not even knowing what was coming, a frightened child trying to hide, a woman who knew all too well as she held her screaming infant in her arms. His traitorous mind continued, reminding him of his best friends, Lt. Colonel Maes Hughes and 2nd Lieutenant Hawkeye. She was first, caught in a hand grenade's explosion from her sniper's nook above the battlefield, her body never recovered. And then Maes, right beside him. When Roy had seen him go down he'd started to kneel down, screaming his name, but an officer had screamed for him to hold his position. So he'd gone back.
Roy's whole body shook with his sobs. It had truly been a terrible war.
He had to get away from this.
Somehow.
2 years later
Roy looked dejectedly out the window at the red sunset. It was nice out and he should probably go out. Fresh air cleared his mind most of the time.
He had to admit, compared to Amestris, Drachma was a lot cleaner, albeit colder. He pulled on a leather jacket over his button-down and jeans and went for a walk. When he came to the park, he saw a little group of people talking loudly, some gesturing wildly with their hands. Something interesting was always going on in this nice little park, and Roy decided to check it out. Maybe he could join in like he did occasionally with the karate club or local jam session. In the 6 months he'd lived in this medium-sized city, he'd never fouond a lack of things to do. As he came closer, one voice in particular stood out.
"That's a clear-cut traffic violation! There's no way you can defend that. Even insurance companies in Creta wouldn't pay for a damaged front-wheel axis if the cause was ramming a parked car in a designated parking area."
"How about backing into someone's rear?" Someone else piped up. Roy was intrigued. A debate club?
"It depends on where you are. In a parking lot, it just might be defensible, but on the street you'd have no hope. You'd get a double-charge as well because driving in reverse on a street or highway is illegal." Roy peeked through the ring of people to see the man who owned this very in-charge voice. He was surprised. It looked like a teenager with oddly long blond hair and very light brown-no wait, yellow eyes.
"I'm a student and I've been given a practice case where my client has no alibi," a girl said, addressing the boy. "But she's innocent."
"Listen. Every innocent person has an alibi, OK? Where was she?"
"She thinks she was at a bar, but she was so drunk she can't remember."
"Then how do you know she's innocent?"
"Well, it was an assignment, so I've already been told."
"Never believe any information you haven't collected yourself unless it's from a trusted source or matches another source. If two records from two different places say the same thing, that's probably what happened. But if you don't know whether or not she might be guilty, you have to find out for yourself. For all you know, your teacher's throwing you for a loop." Roy watched the intriguing man argue a bit more on traffic violations before posing his own question.
"What if you have a guilty client? A murderer? You still have to defend him, don't you?" The boy, who Roy realized must be older than he looked by the timbre of his voice, focused his golden eyes on the dark-haired man.
"I only take those cases when I'm bored, but the idea's pretty easy. If you make the other person look guilty of anything, that automatically makes you look innocent in comparison. In Cretan democracy, it's used in politics under the name "smear-campaigning". Smear your opponent and it makes you look clean." The blond paused before giving Roy a measuring glance.
"I haven't seen you before. Which firm are you with? Or are you a student?"
"Ah, oh, no. I was just taking a walk. I'm a clerk at the grocery store. Just moved here a little while ago." Roy was suddenly aware that all eyes were on him.
"Where from?" the slight blond asked bluntly.
"Amestris." Roy answered uncertainly.
"Oh yeah? I'm from there too." The man acknowledged. Roy smiled slightly.
"What's your name, grocer?"
"Um, Roy Mustang."
"Edward Elric. Pleased to meet you." Edward said abruptly.
"Say, do I get a discount for knowing a VIP in there?" he cackled, referring to Roy's current state of employment.
"Don't you already? I just remembered where I've heard your name before. There's a woman working on my shift who told me about a little hermit lawyer who saved the store a few years back." Roy grinned when Elric blushed slightly.
"Yeah well that was too easy anyway. Idiots thought they could close it down because some of the equipment at the deli counter wasn't up-to-date, even though the law clearly says that in towns with over 400,000 people, local markets should receive a small dividend of the annual tax fees for any kind of maintainence work needed to be done, and replacement of equipment obviously comes under that category. Those guys were just a bunch of piss-heads." Ed finished. Roy was, needless to say, impressed.
"You know a lot, don't you?"
"I'm a lawyer." Was the non-chalant response.
"If you don't mind me asking, exactly what are all of you gathered here for?"
Someone else piped up to answer.
"We all come to exercise our...prowess as lawyers."
"It's practice for all of us. And besides, we all have a wager that whoever can out-talk Mr. Elric here gets free beer for a year, as payed for by the rest of us." Another man cackled.
"Funny how if anyone 'beats' me, they get free beer, but for all the times I've 'out-talked' one of them I haven't gotten so much as a cigarette." Ed grumbled to Roy. Everyone else laughed. Roy became a little more curious.
"How old are you?" he inquired. Ed's eye twitched.
"Twenty-six." He growled, suddenly hostile.
"Oh. Wow..I mean, you look younger..." Roy trailed off at the angry look on Edward's face.
"YOU WANNA PICK A FIGHT, HUH? YOU WANNA SAY I'M SO SHORT I LOOK LIKE AN ELEMENTARY SCHOOLER, HUH? COME ON THEN AND SAY IT YOU BIG-"
"Aw, come on Ed, let him go. He doesn't mean anything." Someone spoke up. Roy was glad. The man might be three years younger than he was, but he was scary.
"You didn't mean it, right?" Someone prodded him.
"No, not at all-...In fact, I never even said any of that stuff." he gave Ed a what-do-you-think-you're-trying-to-pull-look.
"Maybe not but you were thinking it." Ed huffed. Roy ignored that. Standing up, the man was indeed, quite short.
"It's about time I got going. It's about to start raining anyway. We should all go." The blond suggested. As the 'lawyer club' dissolved from the park, Roy battled with himself. He hated the rain, but he also wanted to follow Ed. It was just something he wanted to do, as though if he didn't, he might not see the man again. Roy glanced at the sky, then at the man about to turn the corner.
"What the hell. I came here to have a life."
Roy ran after Ed. He was surprised to see him walking up to the graveyard. He felt as though he were intruding as he followed the blond at a distance. All uneasy thoughts of intrusion on Ed's personal space fled when he saw Edward kneel over a large gravestone and slash his palm with a knife. Roy's mind screamed in pain. That was a lot of blood. A lot of pain. And not even a hundredth of the blood he'd spilled and the pain he'd dealt.
'No, block it. BLOCK IT.'
Roy had gotten so very good at blocking these memories since he'd moved here. He dragged himself back to the present and saw a flash of light. He started running toward Ed. He had no idea what the man was doing, but it was scary.
He came pounding up the low hill and as he drew near, Edward's eyes snapped to focus on him. Roy unthinkingly reached for the man and he was kicked onto his back before he even saw Ed's foot. Ed looked down at him, eyes livid but not unrestrained.
"I don't think I like you. In fact, I think you're a nosy son-of-a-bitch stalker." Ed pulled his glove over his bleeding hand and walked away.
Roy recovered his breath, staggered upright and ran up beside Ed, who held up his hand to cut Roy off.
"You don't say a word until we get to my house."
Roy submitted.
-----------