Hi everyone, this is just a FMA oneshot I had stuck in my head, so I thought I'd write it down for you lovely people. Basically, the Flame Alchemist has a drinking problem, and a certain someone has to help him out of it. Trigger warning: mentions of self harm :s. xx

I've been settling scores
I've been fighting so long
But I've lost your war
And our kingdom is gone

Run To You, Pentatonix

"Where is he then?" the young man asked tiredly, pissed off to no end that it was one in the morning and he wasn't in bed.

"Out back" the bartender said, pointing towards the other end of the room. The other man grunted in thanks and made his way over. Outside, Roy Mustang groaned, rubbing at his head, which was buzzing and pounding at the same time. What just happened? He could hear the sounds of mismatched footsteps coming his way – one was a heavy stamp, and the other was barely a whisper. He looked up and saw possibly the worst thing that could have come near him in his currently inebriated state. Edward Elric was glaring down at him with pure venom in his golden eyes; with hate so strong he should probably have been dead by now.

"Hey Fullmetal" he drawled out, but the alcohol was slurring his words, so that it was more of a mishmash of syllables that was barely English at this point.

"You're a fucking bastard Mustang" he replied.

"I didn't do anything" he whined – or that was what it sounded like in his head. What Ed heard required a lot of translation

"You picked a fight with three people and it's raining – they beat the crap out of you, and you fucking deserved it dickhead! Hawkeye has been drilling this into your thick skull for years – your gloves don't work in the rain!" He was right – the older alchemist's left eye was swollen up and starting to purple, his chest hurt like crap and his head was on fire. Ed swept down and grabbed the colonel's sleeve with his automail hand and dragged him up quickly. Roy swayed heavily and leant on the younger alchemist for support, slinging an arm around his shoulders. Ed muttered some curses under his breath and helped to half carry Mustang from the back through the bar so they could make their way home. There was a glass half full of what looked like whiskey that some patron hadn't finished, and the colonel reached out for it, but Ed roughly slapped his hand away "Don't even think about it asshole. You've had more than enough tonight" it was a slow and difficult journey home. He knew where Mustang lived, and it was much further from this bar than his house was, so that's where they were going. He had been thrown out of several of the bars in his area, so had to start moving further afield in order to get more alcohol. It was true he could buy booze from the shops, and simply drink it at home, and he did that. But recently, more vendors had stopped selling to him, and he didn't know why. Ed had been muttering death threats for most of the trip, because Mustang was heavy, it was still raining and he should have been asleep.

"You can drop the attitude Fullmetal" complained the man that it this point might be killed by choking on one of his own gloves, Ed hadn't decided yet "We're off the clock. At least call me Roy – that is my name"

"I'm going to castrate you with a rusty knife" he said "Roy" the young man had far more sarcasm in his voice than someone of his age should, but he didn't care – he was cold, his clothes were soaked through because they were stuck in a heavy drizzle and he didn't think he had mentioned enough how pissed off he was.

"Leave my dick out of this" Mustang complained

"If your dick wasn't also your head, I would asshole" he muttered back. After another five minutes Mustang groaned heavily. Ed heard a slight rumble coming from his throat. Oh crap. I know that noise. It's the noise the oesophagus makes right before- Ed suddenly pushed Mustang off him so that he stumbled into a bush and promptly vomited all over the shrub, horrible noises coming from his mouth and a few curses thrown in for good measure. Ed made his way over and sighed, rubbing his back with is automail hand and pushing the bangs away from his face with the flesh one. This was the second time this month that someone had had to pick up Roy from a bar. Last time Havoc had taken the bullet for the rest of them – it would have been Hawkeye (it was her turn on their improvised rota) but they were worried she might shoot him for his idiocy. Kicked out of two bars in the space of three weeks - it wasn't his best record, but both times had been for violence, whereas normally the violent outbursts were interspersed with improper behaviour and then one time when he had torched the place. They were lucky that Ed had got there in time to put out the flames – since he happened to live around the corner, it was faster than trying to call the fire brigade, and he had transmuted the place back to normal afterwards in the hope that no one would try to kill Roy.

"Are you ok Roy?" he asked quietly as the man sat back on his haunches and wiped his mouth

"What does it fucking look like Ed?!" he moaned back, grimacing at the after taste.

"It's your own fault" he said grumpily "come on, we're nearly home. Do you think you can manage another block without throwing up all over me?" the disgraced Colonel nodded sullenly and Ed helped him up again, thankful for once of their height difference, as it gave Roy something to lean on – not that the golden haired man was ever going to tell him that. The pace getting back was even slower now, with the taller man stopping every minute or so because he thought he was going to throw up again. When they finally go there, Ed stuffed a hand in his pocket, searching for keys and shoved one into the door. Behind was a small porch with a mat he would wipe his boots on and then he had to open two more locks. The second opened a small window in the door and he put his arm through, reaching for the bolt on the inside and pulling it across so the door wood open with a kick. It was summer and the wood had warped from the heat, so these days the door required a little more force to open. Ed propped Roy up on his three person sofa, taking the plastic bag from a small metal bin in the corner and giving the bin to Roy in case he felt the need to vomit again. He tied the top of the bag together and dropped it before he went back to the door and locked everything up, pulling the bolt over and slotting over an extra latch that he couldn't reach from the outside of the door – he only locked it when he was inside the house.

"Why all the security Ed?" Roy asked hazily, his words were still slurred and groggy

"I like to make sure I'm safe" he spoke as he tugged off his boots. "I know a way out of every room, I know where every potential weapon is if I couldn't transmute one day. And you're an idiot and might try to leave and end up blowing up a building" he said sarcastically as he hung up his cloak on a hook so that it would dry "If someone did manage to get through my front door and I couldn't use alchemy, I would either go for the knife I have hidden under the sofa cushion next to you, or the wooden stick behind the plant in the corner" Mustang shifted away from the middle cushion, attempting to get away from the concealed weapon

"I can't see a stick"

"That's because it's hidden dumbass" he said sarcastically. Roy growled at him

"Why not just transmute the door to stone so that someone can't get in in the first place?"

"I would have to transmute every possible entrance and exit to this place. If I was trying escape, having to untransmute them would slow me down" Roy shrugged, conceding his point, but this somehow sent his vision spinning and he started dry heaving into the bin Ed have given him with nothing coming out of his empty insides. The young alchemist went into his small kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with tap water.

"Drink this slowly or you will throw up again" he gave it to Roy, who sipped at it carefully. Ed pulled the hair elastic from his wet braid and dragged it out so that it fell around shoulders in waves. On the way over, Roy had grabbed at it to keep himself upright, and his fingers had gotten caught up, knotting his hair – something else that irritated him. Ed picked a brush off the low table and started to slowly take out the tangles, wincing occasionally when he had to tug a few hairs out in order to get rid of a knot while water dripping onto the floorboards. Roy was staring at him the entire time, watching as the tangles fell out so that Ed's long hair was left falling straight rather than bunched as it had been before.

"You look nice with your hair down" Roy said, and he immediately frowned as he had intended for the words to stay in his head

"You're drunk, shut up" he grunted at him.

"Still true though" his said cockily

"Since the alcohol is now talking for you, you need to go to bed. Come on" Ed took the glass of water in his automail hand and heaved Roy off his sofa so that he could get them both to his bedroom. It took a bit of manoeuvring to finally get the colonel to sit on his bed so that he could put the water on his bedside table and removed the man's boots and jacket, putting them in the corner.

"Get in the bed" he ordered the colonel. Roy simply fell back with a grunt so that his legs were still bent of the edge while he lay horizontally rather than vertically on top of the sheets. Ed was about to kick him when he noticed that Roy had actually fallen asleep. "Fucking bastard" he muttered. The young man groaned at his predicament – it was now nearing two in the morning and he could feel a migraine coming on. Ed lifted Roy's legs, dragging them up and onto the bed. He could see that he was injured, so he went to the bathroom, rooting around for bruise cream. If his eye hadn't gone down by the morning he would put some ice on it. It took him some time to treat the injuries. He had to get off the older man's uniform, which was a feat in itself, and hang it over a clothes horse in his bathroom so that it would be dry. Roy was left in his vest and underpants, which Ed was never going to take off, even if someone paid him a million cenz. He gently pushed the white vest upwards so that he could take a look at the bruising that peppered his torso. So this is what self-destruction looks like, he thought while he rubbed the cream onto the bruises that were covering the man's muscular abdomen. He could see every scar, every old burn mark, some looking a lot fresher than others. The one that looked like it was new was a searing red handprint over his abdomen. It took him some time to get all of bruises, but he was happier with Roy's condition by the time he was finished. With some tugging and cursing, he managed to pull out the duvet from under his friend (if he could call him that) and over the prone form so that he would be warm and pushed some of the unkempt hair away from his face. "You're lucky Roy. You've got all these people who will come and get you and make sure you are safe even though you are drunk out of your ass. Havoc, Hawkeye, Breda, Gracia, Fuery, Al….me. And then you do it again and again, like you are trying to piss us off. What happened to equivalent exchange? It's horrible seeing you this way. You aren't you when you're drunk. You turn into the violent, crazy dickhead with no worries about your own safety or the safety of the people around you. You are already a dickhead, don't make it worse" he complained. "Believe it or not, I do care about you. You are killing yourself more slowly are far more painfully than you deserve. And it's killing the rest of us to watch. Especially me" Ed sighed quietly. His shoulders slumped as he watched the colonel looking peaceful for the first time in what felt like forever. Little did the older man know, he had made all his friends call him if they had picked up Roy after a night like this, because he was worried. Not that he was ever going to tell Mustang that, but he always wanted to make sure he was safe. The younger alchemist was also the one that had bribed all the shop owners nearby to not sell Roy any alcohol in the hope that it would at least reduce the amount he was drinking. Ed got up and rummaged in his cupboard, searching for a blanket to take so he could sleep on the sofa.

Roy woke up, cursing at the offending chink of light that had gotten through a gap in the curtains. He felt like it was mocking him

"Fuck you" he muttered, rubbing his eyes and groaning loudly. It took him a while to wake him – his head felt he had drawn a transmutation circle on his brain and set fire to it. Roy opened his eyes blearily, his vision taking time to focus and for the objects around him to sharpen. "Oh crap" came out of his mouth. He was in his underwear. He wasn't in his own bed. Where was he? He looked around and saw his boots, jacket and gloves sitting in the corner, a glass of water on the beside table with two painkillers next to it. Well, they were white pills, so he was hoping for painkillers. If he was unlucky and ended up with Laxatives that meant he would be shitting himself for the next 24 hours, then it wouldn't be the first time. Yes that had happened before, and no he wasn't going to talk about it. He took the tablets and attempted to get off bed, but only really succeeded on falling on his ass. In the kitchen Ed heard the crash and the swearing and thought he'd take a look in on his friend. Roy looked up to see the young alchemist staring down at him with a slightly bemused look on his face, arms folded.

"Don't say a word" he growled out, using the bed as support to help him stand. Ed, of course ignored this

"How are you doing Colonel Shithead?" just the sound of his voice was sending off a wrecking ball through his head, and the young man wasn't even talking that loudly

"Fuck off"

"If you hadn't drunk so much last night I would have had to pick your sorry ass up from the bar" Ed's face softened as Roy groaned, rubbing his head again. "do you think you can eat something?" he asked, helping him up from the floor.

"I don't know" Ed half carried the colonel to his kitchen where he sat him down at the small table. He put down a fresh glass of water for him, before picking up his own mug of coffee. Sitting down opposite, he stared at Roy for a moment before the older man spoke

"I heard everything you said last night" Ed's golden eyes went wide and he promptly choked on his drink, spluttering on to the table.

"You did?" he finally asked after recovering from his coughing fit. He started to try to babble about how he must have been dreaming or he didn't mean it but was cut off

"Shut up" Roy said, knowing full well that he hadn't been dreaming. He reckoned that he had hit that in between stage of neither awake nor asleep while Ed had been looking after him. "You were right" he said quietly "I know that – I don't want to hurt any of you"

"If you know, then why do you do?" he asked quietly. Roy dropped his head so that some of dark hair was covering his eyes.

"It makes me feel better" Ed frowned at him, waiting for clarification. He wasn't going to press Roy for answers "A lot of the stuff I've done, the things I've seen, I'm not proud. I remember everything that happened during the war and it still haunts me. I pretend everyday that I'm some kind of confident asshole, which I suppose I am, but really inside I'm just scared of everything that I ever did coming back to find me. Like Scar wasn't bad enough. I suppose alcohol just helps to numb the pain" he concluded quietly

"When I was treating your injuries last night I saw the burns. There's one in the shape of a hand on your stomach. Di-did you do t-that?" Roy nodded mutely, remembering how much it had hurt. It was like he was trying to reach a level of pain that matched the amount that filled his heart - there were reasons upon reasons, several of which he wasn't about to share with the younger alchemist. "Why?" Ed asked softly, his voice cracking over the syllable as his face creased up. He could see all the pain and hurt that filled Roy's obsidian eyes. It was all there – fear, sadness and so much anger. Every ounce of self-hatred was plain for Ed to see, because the colonel was letting him in.

"Because then it's fair" he muttered "equivalent exchange. For every life I've taken, for every person I've wronged….I-I deserve this" he didn't want to cry, but he was too far gone at this point, and a small tear spilled from the corner of his eye, slowly tracking its way down his face. Ed wanted to cry as well, because it hurt him, it physically hurt him to see Roy in so much pain. He hadn't realised how much he cared for Roy until now. Sure, the guy pissed the crap out of him on a regular basis, but sitting here in his little kitchen, they weren't 'Fullmetal' and 'Colonel Dickhead'. They were Ed and Roy. Two men that been through so much together, seen more than half of Amestris' population had put together, and come out the other side with the scars to prove it.

"This isn't equivalent exchange" Ed said, breaking the silence "This is self-destruction. I can't let you do this anymore"

"You can't stop me" Roy muttered bitterly

"Who do you think was the one that stopped all those shopkeepers from selling you alcohol?" the older man's eyes widened "Shut the fuck up Roy and listen to me" the colonel stared at him. "I stand by what I said last night – I do care about you, and I am not about to stand here and watch you kill yourself, and none of the others will either. We have done some horrible things. I still feel guilty every day that I make Al lose his body – for a while, especially after Nina…I wasn't in a good place" Ed started to roll up the sleeve of the left arm of his shirt. He always wore long sleeves. It covered what was really covering his skin.

"Oh my god Ed" Roy whispered. All the way up his arm, especially on the inside of his wrist were faded thick scaring that crisscrossed his pale skin. "You used to cut?"

"It took me a while to stop. Al caught me one time – I used to transmute my other hand into a sharp edge. It was easy. It helped me to get control – because emotions cloud your judgement, and I couldn't afford that, because I had to get the stone. Al always used to ask me why I did it. You know what he said to me?" Roy shook his head "he called me an idiot. And then he told me something I will never forget. People have been hurt, and suffered, and yes, you might have been responsible. But hurting yourself isn't going to make it better, and it certainly isn't equivalent exchange. You may have taken their lives, but every day, instead of trying to make it go away, you remember the people that you've hurt or lost and you take all the good things from their lives and make positive changes to your own, and to those of the people around you. You can't get stuck in the past Roy. All you can do use the legs that you've been given and keep moving forward. One of mine might be automail, but I can still use them. They aren't strong because I am - they're strong because I've got people like you and Al and Winry to support me, and give me strength. Every time I see Al, see him back in his real body, I remember what we accomplished together and all the horrible things we had to go through to get it back and I feel so lucky – because all those years ago, The Gate could have taken my body instead of his, and maybe none of this would have happened. I used to lie awake and think about all the 'what ifs' while we were travelling. If we had switched places, would Al have been able to transmute my soul into a suit of armour? Or would I have been lost to The Gate forever? I still don't know what the answer is, but it doesn't matter. I only lost my limbs to The Gate, and not my life, so for that, I am eternally thankful" Ed spoke with maturity and wisdom that Roy didn't even know he possessed, with a voice of reason that was way beyond his years. "Drinking might help to numb you, but you can't just forget everything. You need take all the pain and the rage and use it for good. That's why you work for the military. It should give you an outlet"

"I can't just stop" Roy said quietly. Ed knew what it was like to be addicted to something harmful after cutting himself

"I know. It's a hard process to get through. You can't just detox immediately, you'll be brain dead in 48 hours. Take it slow. I fell off the wagon all the time, but Al was so supportive and gave me other ways to dig through my emotions. Crap I sound like a girl" he muttered

"It's ok" Roy said with a small smile.

"Just try to cut down slowly. Don't drink tonight for example, but you can drink tomorrow. Don't drink so heavily on nights before you have work the next day. Definitely don't ever hit on Hawkeye, even if you are sober. She will shoot you. And if you do fall of the wagon, ring me and I'll take you home. And if you are already at home then I'll take all the alcohol out and transmute it to water"

"Ok, I hit on Hawkeye once – I don't even know why. I was pretty out of it to be fair but I'm-" Crap. He had almost said it. That one word was supposed to stay in his head.

"You're what?"

"Nothing" Ed frowned at him – he could have finished that sentence in his head, because he knew how it was supposed to end. He took a deep breath before he spoke again – only Al and Winry knew about this

"You too huh?" He raised his golden eyes to stare steadily into Roy's which went wide with the pupils almost fully dilated.

"Shit Ed" this revelation nearly sent his head spinning again, although for an entirely different reason "How did you know?"

"You were very good at hiding it initially. But you were doing exactly the same things as me, so it wasn't that hard to work out. Hughes" Roy tipped his head into his hands, groaning quietly. Of all the people that knew about his sexuality (which came to a grand total of zero before now), he had not wanted the first to be Ed. The military didn't openly discriminate against gay people, but there had always been a stigma, and the high ups didn't like it if you didn't fit into the system. He had never told anyone how he felt out of fear that he might lose his job. He had all those one night stands just because he was so damn lonely. He drank himself into a stupor regularly for other reasons than the list he had given Ed. He was only human, and sometimes he needed physical contact, even if it was from girls. He couldn't afford to be with a man because people knew who he was and that could be detrimental to his job.

"I've always knew nothing was ever going to happen between us. It just a stupid crush. And he's dead now, so there's shit-all I can do about it" Ed stared at him thoughtfully.

"Have you moved on? I mean, you were pretty cut up for a while after the funeral. That's when you started drinking properly"

"Yeah I have"

"To who?"

"No one in particular"

"Hm"

"Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I don't' know" Ed said with a mischievous smile "I could use it as blackmail"

"I could make your life a living hell"

"I'm friends with you, it can't get any worse than that"