Unfixable

I know that nothing of this can redeem you from the sins you've committed. I don't really think that it actually should. It's a way to make you feel alive again. To break the spell that has captivating you all those years along now.

I know that you can't feel the blood as it is flooding down your wrists.

But I know what I can see right now. You're lying here in your own blood. Your arms are full of it. Both…

I cannot tell if it hurts. All I can see are those maniacal cuts on your wrists. It's almost ridiculous how many of them are covering your skin. I almost cry. Not because of happiness like some people do but because the ridiculousness of the situation is striking me… and not in a good way. I feel tears contradicting my throat. I'm trying to suppress the sobs as I analyze you further. Your skin is so pale… it looks utterly sick.

And even though your skin is already pale, your arms are white as a fresh paper due to the blood that was forcefully drained from them. I try to look away.

Instead I'm intently watching your face.

You're neither looking scared nor sad of any sort. But I still know that you suffered.

I can spot the marks on your cheeks, left behind by traitorous tears. They dried on your cold skin and are now shimmering transparent on your face.

I know you would hate it that they're still visible.

What can I say? You better were not crying. But I know it would have been near impossible during such an act. I know why you did it, what anguish was striking you the last days. Yes, I saw the signs but honestly I didn't know what I should be doing. I regret it now as I see your lifeless body in our bed. You knew I would find you like that and that's how I know that you didn't want to be found with tear marks on your cheeks. I'm sorry I couldn't help you.

I'm trying to suppress just another sob. Why didn't you talk to me? Why didn't I ask..?

I mean… I already saw the bruises on your wrists. Not only little and shallow ones, but also some that were bursting open your flesh and got infected.

Yes, I saw them. Yes, I ignored them. But you have to believe me when I say that I didn't know it would end like this. You have to understand, that I was fucking tired of worrying about you. I'm also just human, so please don't hate me. Even though I know you do or did.

I see a piece of paper crumbled beneath your dead body, covered in several blood stains. I don't need to read it. I know what you wanted to tell me. I know without looking that you didn't apologize.

It's just not your style.

Still… even after all that time that passed, even after your funeral, even after all the grief and even after all the glares I was receiving for not taking enough care of you, even though I promised… Still my dear Ed, I'm still wondering why I stopped asking.

I always thought of you as a strong person. But then you started to drink and cut. And honestly no matter how long I tried to help you, you always fell back in old patterns. I simply didn't know what to do any longer.

Can you understand that I really tried? The first time I found out about those little wounds on your arms I nearly broke down. It repulsed me and at the time I wanted nothing more but to help you.

I wanted to cradle your broken little body in my arms and shake you to sanity. But you wouldn't listen to me. Yeah, you told me you would stop, for the both of us.

Not even a month later I had to take you to the next hospital crying and begging for your dear life because you were cutting too deep. When I found you, the bathroom was a mess. Everywhere was blood, your blood! It did take me a hell lot not to panic and to react rational. I bandaged your wrists the best I could, tried to stop the blood flow and were driving you in maniacal speed to the hospital. When you woke up your eyes were glazed over in tears and mine were swimming in it.

I told you, you needed help. Professional help as mine wasn't enough.

I saw by the look in your eyes that this was the last thing you wanted but after a lot of convincing you were actually willing to go to your weekly appointments.

It was a long time later I found out you weren't really going there but just spend your time otherwise and then came back to the spot I would pick you up.

I cannot even find enough words to tell you how disappointed I was… and when I'm honest I still am.

Not were you only lying to me, you were also denying yourself the help you desperately needed.

You knew I had no other choice but to inform your brother even though you begged me with tears in your eyes not to. You can believe me when I say it broke my heart as I saw the look of betrayal in your eyes as you realized I was serious.

You were very fidgety and I knew you were nervous as hell facing your brother by the way you were unruly doing and re-doing your braid.

I felt unbelievable sorry but I knew if I couldn't help and if you wouldn't accept any other help that he was the only left-over chance I had to save you, Ed.

Al was looking horrible tired and on the verge of tears but didn't yell at you as you expected. All he did was gather you in an embrace and tried to console you while he fought hard with the tears which were threatening to escape his eyes. Yes, I knew that this reaction was hurting you by so far more than any anger tantrum would have.

Al was stopping by every afternoon when I was at work, checking your wrists for new cuts and your breath for any signs of alcohol.
It worked about two weeks but then you weren't even sleeping in the same bed like me any more. You were saying you needed some private space and time and so you stole the only purpose I saw in myself: Trying to make you feel loved by cradling you to my chest and holding you.

I don't now if you actually felt better with Al checking in on you or if you just pretended it would work.

All I know is that you changed. You were excluding yourself even more from me and honestly it really hurt. But at the same time I was happy because you actually seemed to recover, at least I thought you would.

After Al deemed it was save to reduce his daily visits you seemed to fall in another depression yet again. Though you would sleep by my side again it didn't seem to help as you woke up crying and screaming from bad nightmares. I saw the fear in your eyes as you opened them but no matter how much I tried to calm you down you wouldn't listen. Instead you rushed into the bathroom and locked the door. I knew exactly what you'd be doing inside but you just wouldn't open the door. Not until the sun rose the next morning.

By the time you finally opened, your eyes were red rimmed and puffy from crying but that was nothing in comparison to your arms. They were littered in cuts, shallow and deep ones. Trails of blood had dried on your skin and you even managed to smear some of it in your face. When you saw me you rushed into my arms and started crying even harder. I didn't know what I could do anymore.

I wanted to ask Al again to come by more often but he looked so tired and I knew he had reached his limits. It was all too much on him as his body was still recovering.

Not only he was at his wits end, I was too. The last possibility I saw was to send you back to Resembool to your family, to Winry and your Auntie Pinako.

I called every day but your voice wouldn't cease to sound so hallow and broken. I visited you every weekend but still your eyes were so dull and lifeless. Slowly but nonetheless gradually you seemed to recover a little bit. I don't know if it was because of the change in surroundings or because of the getaway from daily routine.

You seemed to smile more often and sometimes even laughed. I was so unbelievable relieved that you were more and more the Edward I knew and fell in love with.

You stayed about 3 month longer and I took 2 weeks ill-leave from work just to be with you. In all this time you haven't cut except of a few in the beginning and you haven't drunk anything at all, maybe because nothing was available and because you were under constant custody. I was so damn proud of you. I made a few trips with you and your eyes began to shine again. Your face regained some of its tan colour and you were smiling your gorgeous smiles again.

You opened up to me more like you did before all of this started. You would talk to me all night even though about nothing important. I was so happy. You started kissing again and even wanted to have sex again. Superficially everything seemed to be normal again.

So I took you back to our home in Central. You started going to work again and Al was coming by again regularly to visit you.

Everything could have been so perfect.

But obviously it wasn't for you…

You know Edward, there's one thing I can't understand. You achieved your goal to get your brother's body back and even your own arm. There are so many people out there who love you like you were family. There's Gracia who is just like your Auntie Pinako considering you as her own son. There are Elysia and Winry who love you like a brother. There's Al, the only person of your real family left who loves and adores you with all his heart. He looks up to you and would always be there for you. And finally… there's me.

Ed, I love you more than anything else in this world. You are my heart, my hope… you are my own little family. Can't you see it? You are loved so much by so many people and still… it's obviously not enough for you. Ed, help me to understand why you are still so depressed. I know that you had to go through a lot in your short life, that you've seen hell already. But is this love we give you not enough to redeem your claimed heart?

I tried so hard to purge it, to get rid of the demons that are still captivating you.

In the process it broke my heart. The knowledge that all of this, all my love, was not enough to save you… it wears me down. All of this despair is ripping at my soul; all this incapacity of me is shredding my life-organ.

Really Ed, at one point I was so desperate. I tried everything I could. I flushed all the alcohol we had down the sink. I collected every blade I could find and threw them away. But I know I couldn't prevent you from buying them or shredding glass or using knifes. I mean I can't possibly throw every sharp object in our house away and quite honestly I didn't want to.

Ed, I wanted to trust you. Really, there was nothing more I wanted but trusting you that you would stop. Stop the cutting, stop lying to me and stop to hurt yourself.

Can't you even see how much you're hurting me in the process? Ed, I'm at my breaking point. All the worry… it kills me inside. I told you and you started to cry. You were crying so hard I thought you would never stop. You promised, as you choked the words out, that you would stop. Stop for me and for you. I was relieved that you tried to understand how I feel. I just can't watch how you're destroying yourself. I just can't…

I know that you tried very hard but not even a week later the cutting only got worse. You were cutting so deep that it weren't even cuts any longer. They were angry, nasty gashes.

They split open your flesh and were bleeding horribly. I know that you must have felt very guilty and bad. So bad that you actually tried to stitch them yourself just that the bleeding would stop and I wouldn't notice.

When I found you in the bathroom your face was sickly pale, your hands trembled as you tried to stitch the needle through your skin and everything was covered in blood. It looked awful. I was so shocked I couldn't move the first few moments. When you noticed me you shook your head frantically and screamed at me to get out. I'm honest… I really wanted nothing more but leave and get these disturbing images out of my head. Instead I snatched the needle from your fingers and washed, disinfected and bandaged your arms. Then I took you to the next hospital to get the wounds professionally stitched as the bleeding wouldn't stop. I don't know how deep and how often someone has to cut to let it come so far.

Honestly Ed, as I was waiting there in the waiting room I broke down. I sobbed like there was no tomorrow and the tears wouldn't stop. It took me so much strength and discipline to stop the gradual flow and gather myself. I washed my face and hoped you wouldn't notice that my eyes were swollen from all the crying. I needed to be strong for you. When you weren't strong enough to stop then I needed to be strong for the both of us.

I walked to your room when the doctors told me I could. As I stepped in I could see that you were already awake. You were looking absentmindedly at your arms and unshed tears were glistening in the corner of your eyes.

Really, I just wanted to yell at you but I simply couldn't when I saw you sitting there in this hospital bed that looked way too big for your little body. You just looked so lost…

And when I remember how it ended the last time I told you how I felt I couldn't help but to feel a little bit guilty. Maybe it pressured you too much and maybe you broke down like you did because of this.

So instead of yelling at you I simply hugged you and you started crying. The doctors told me to send you into an asylum because they put you at suicide-risk. I know that they were telling you, too, that it would be better for you. But you refused, accused me of abandoning you. It struck just the right chord and I knew even though it perhaps would have been the best that I couldn't do that against your will. I just… could not stand it if you would hate me for that. Your eyes were so full of hurt and despair… I couldn't do that.

The whole evening you were looking at your arms, eyes glazed over in tears and wide in shock. Yes, I recognized that you were just as shocked about this incident as I was.

The whole night you were crying in my arms, chanting over and over that you were horribly sorry.

Everyday I changed your bandages and disinfected the wounds that were still open. I had bought the disinfection a long time ago. I knew that you wouldn't stop… and if that was not an option then I wanted that you kept your wounds clean at least, so they wouldn't get infected as they one time actually did.

I saw no new ones appearing on your arms and I scanned the rest of your body thoroughly for any signs of misuse but gladly found none. I guess you were shocked too much.

The lesser the abuse of your body got the more your drinking increased. Just when I started to believe you may recover…

Reality caught on to me as I waited one evening, worrying myself shitless the more time passed without you coming home or hearing anything of you.

I was at the verge of leaving the house and go looking for you as the phone rang.

On the line was a very pissed Havoc who told me to 'fucking pick my totally out of it – subordinate slash boyfriend up'.

He told me they found you in a bar, already totally smashed and still you wouldn't stop drinking.

As I arrived I received very pitying looks from Havoc, Breda and the rest and a very compassionate one from Riza.

After Hughes passed away, she was the only hold in my life apart from you, of course. She became a very dear friend of mine and so I told her about you and your problems.

I knew you knew as she also tried to talk with you twice and was visiting the last few weeks more often than she did before, especially after a day in hospital.

One day you snapped and yelled at her that you knew exactly why she was coming by and how much you despise her for pitying you. Couldn't you see Ed that she just tried to be a friend?

You were half lying on the bar counter; in your hair I saw the remains of some puke. You were near unconscious and when it hadn't been for your chest to rise and fall one might have thought you were dead. I couldn't control my anger any longer and all the frustration of the last months was breaking out at once.

I grabbed you by the collar and yelled directly in your face. I screamed at you what you think you were doing. I shouted all these pent-up emotions of mine in your face. I don't know if you actually heard me but you started whimpering. I regretted it this instant when I saw the pained expression on your face. I asked you if you had any idea how much you were hurting me or how often my heart broke in all this time. You just repeatedly shook your head no as you started sobbing so badly that you were coughing.

I saw the shocked expression on the faces of my subordinates but honestly I couldn't care less at the moment.

I drove you home and forced you there to vomit the alcohol out, at least that one that was left.

You looked like a corpse the next day and even though I didn't know if you remembered my outburst I didn't dare to ask. You didn't move from bed at all the whole day and all my attempts to talk with you about the things that are depressing you so damn were in vain.

I couldn't take it. I just couldn't take it any longer. I urgently needed a time out from all this shit, so I called Al to watch you this evening while I got helplessly smashed myself. I tried to drown all my worries and all my pain in the clear liquid. I couldn't believe that I was so unable to heal you, to make you whole again. It gnawed on me and it still does.

The alcohol helped, if even for this one night and honestly the next day I only felt worse.

When I came home again you asked me where the hell I were and I couldn't help but notice the worry that was tainting your voice. I felt so unbelievable bad for making you suffer through this even though I should know best how heart breaking it is. But at the same time a little part of me was satisfied, that you had to take a gulp of your own medicine. Tastes bitter, Edward, doesn't it?

But no, I cannot think that way, I need to be the one person you can lean on and trust into.

Obviously this one night of horror was enough for you to behave the following weeks. I noticed that you tried to be happy but no matter how many times you faked a smile I always could see through it. I knew it was only a matter of time until the next thunderstorm would arise.

You started going out again even though I forbade you to do so, I even begged you not to go. But as so often you didn't listen to me. I don't know if this fucking stubbornness of you is just a born trait or one you acquired under my command to drive me crazy. No matter how much I had always admired this trait of you, in this moment I hated it.

At least you were coming home that day, how you managed I still wonder but I couldn't care less as long as I could hold you in my arms at night.

There were nights you didn't come home at all but all of that didn't matter as long as you were alive and with me.

I realized one night when I tucked up your sleeves as you slept that also the cutting restarted. I cried myself to sleep.

But all of this is nothing compared to now as I see your unmoving body in our bed. You are unconscious and your chest is just barely rising. I cannot tell if it is due to alcohol intoxication or the blood loss. All I know is it's looking bad… no, it looks horrible.

Ed, really, I was thinking so often about leaving you and your problems. They were like a highly contagious disease that was infecting my mind and my soul. I feel so ill and weak everyday and I just cannot take it anymore. I'm slowly done. I know that these thoughts are so damn cowardly and selfish but still…

When I found you today I couldn't stop my mind from imagining how it would be when you actually were dead. I couldn't stop thinking, that when you really would have committed suicide everything would be over at one blow. Yes, I know I would feel grief in the beginning, that everyone would blame me for not being able to save and take care of you. But I wonder… would it hurt more than it does right now? Would it?

Sometimes I think that maybe you'd be better off dead. I mean you wouldn't have to suffer anymore and I could finally stop worrying. It angers and at the same time disappoints me that you are not accepting any help, that you refuse seeing a therapist.

Edward, when I saw you like this I really couldn't stop my mind from spinning and think about all this stuff.

Yeah in my imaginary it was suicide… I don't know if you ever considered this option before… it doesn't really matter though. It could always happen by accident. I know that, so do you. And the fear to actually find you dead was killing me.

I'm disgusted that my own sick mind was imagining such things. I hate myself for that. But you have to admit… it would be so much easier…

Stoically I drove you to the hospital, a route my mind has memorized after all that time. You lost a lot of blood, too much blood. Now I'm sitting here next to your bed and don't know what to think. Edward, I mean I love you and want nothing more than for you to wake up. But still there's this little part of doubt in me, this little part that is wondering if I can go on like this. If I'm strong enough…

I'm waiting here impatiently, watching your unmoving body and are fighting against the tears. Then finally… after all this dreadful waiting and begging and praying… is your little form shifting, even though for just a tiny bit.

These beautiful golden eyes of you open and that's when I know it's all worth it. All the pain and all the worrying are worth it when I just can see your eyes opening again, when I just can wake up next to your warm little body that is strangely so perfectly fitting into mine.

Have you any idea how often my mind was running through this little scenario where I simply stopped caring because, honestly, there were days I thought I couldn't take it anymore? There were days I drunk myself into oblivion just to forget one little moment in my life all my worries about you.

Yes, my beloved Ed, I can't even count how often I thought about giving up. Give you up, for the sake of my own sanity. But Edward whenever I look in your eyes I realize how much I love you, how much I truly love you and that I simply couldn't live without you. I know that you were never actually asking for help and maybe that was why you were so repulsed by the idea. I know now that I can't force you to accept my help or that of anyone else for that matter.

But I still cannot stop caring. I cannot stop loving you, Edward. Can you hear me? I, Roy Mustang, love you Edward Elric with all I've got and with everything I am. Hell will break loose before I can give you up. Yes, and with every moment your beautiful eyes are laying sight on me I know that I'm happy I choose this path. Because you're simply the most amazing person I've ever met. And even though you're still trying to free yourself from this horrible spell that has taken claim of you by spilling your blood, I will be here and protect you.

I see your form shifting, your golden hair is clinging to your face and your tired eyes are looking into mine. I try to smile as softly as possible. I lean my mouth near your ear and breathe: "I love you, Edward." For one little moment you smile back then you watch your surroundings.

Your gaze wanders from your bandaged arms to the sterile white ceiling you're after all that time so familiar with. You sigh heavily. Then your eyes wander back to me and your mouth opens: "I guess…, Roy, p-please…" Little glistening tears are escaping your eyes as you try to suppress a hiccup. I strike your cheek with my thumb.

"Hush, Edward, hush."

You're taking a calming breath as you look me directly in the eyes "Roy…," and then you tell me those three words I was waiting for all these years.

"I need help."

A/N: Well, I have to admit it'd have been easier to write from Ed's POV but I tried to challenge myself a bit and so I chose Roy's.

It's spell-checked but unbeta'd. I actually had about 4 people read over it, but their first language is, just like mine, not english so I guess you get my dilemma.

They tried to correct it the best they could and I'm so happy and grateful they did (:

So please tell me: Did you like it, hate it...?