A/N: I am so sorry. This is pure angst and I hate it and everything about it. I needed to this idea out of my head before it killed me and now I can go back to living in my happy denial.
Carnations, Blood and Sand
Mahogany. Walnut. Cherry. Maple, Oak, and Elm. Roy looked at each with a forced detachment already wishing that he hadn't agreed to this, wishing that he could just go home, lock himself in and finish that bottle of whiskey that was screaming his name. The voices to his right barely broke through his apathy, bringing him crashing back to reality as he heard a tearful Gracia mumble something about not being able to afford much. Swallowing hard past the lump in his throat, Roy closed his eyes, forced the tears back. He had to be strong. Had to pretend that he wasn't broken and hallowed out. He needed to be there for Gracia, had to remember that he wasn't alone in his pain. Moving to her, Roy looked at the gentleman she was talking to, offering him a forced, and almost certainly obvious, fake smile. "May we have a moment to discuss this?" He asked, waiting for the other man to nod and offer them a sad smile before leaving the room, leaving Roy and Gracia alone with their choices on what to buy. Gracia turned to him, not even trying to hide her tears and he tried to offer her a smile, but the action made his own tears slip past his dark lashes, so he turned back to the ranges of wood.
"Money is of no issue, Gracia. Which do you like most?" He asked her, he couldn't ask which was best. Which was the least bad; which one did him justice; which one didn't seem so horrifically wrong and offensive. In reality, Roy thought that they were all awful, everything about this whole situation was horrific and he could feel his grief, his anger, choking him. The darkness over him was so thick, so heavy, that he was sure that it was going to drown him. How the hell was Gracia still standing when Roy felt like he would break at the slightest touch. He watched mutely as she moved to one of the more pricey Mahogany ones.
"I think..." A pause, a sniffle. "I think Maes would have liked this..." She mumbled, her fingers trailing over the metal decoration, her tears falling freely now. "Oh Roy." She whispered it, choking on a sob and covering her face with her hands, her crying loud now, and he moved to her without any conscious decision to do so. Wrapping her up in his arms, he took in how small she seemed. Bruised and broken. They were both only just keeping their heads above the water, before struggling not to drown. Roy took in a shaky breath and shut his eyes and yet more tears slipped past his defences, cursing himself silently for being so weak. So stupid. What the hell had he been thinking? He couldn't do this? He couldn't be here, be strong for Gracia and look at these blasted things. He looked at the one that Gracia had picked, offering it a glare as he could lay all of the agony and blame at its feet.
The offending object was simple but nice. As nice as something like this could be and he nodded as he mumbled nonsense to Gracia, trying to comfort her but not knowing how to even start, his own grief was crippling. Maes would have liked this one. It was simple, elegant, but someone still flashy. He tried to picture it, how it would look, but his brain just refused to play alone, and the morbid, masochistic side of him couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. This was his fault too, wasn't it? Like all of those he had killed with his alchemy. Had he not also killed his best friend?
"I don't want to have to put him in that, Roy." Gracia wept, but all he could do was stroke her hair and hold onto her a little tighter. "I don't want to have to put him in any of these! Why him? What did he do to deserve this, Roy?" He huffed out a breath, knowing that he couldn't answer her questions. He didn't have answers and the same thoughts circled through his head hour after hour, chasing each other around in his brain, leaving him exhausted and dizzy, screaming for answers until his throat tore. Gracia had her daughter, she was strong for her. Be it broken or otherwise, family was always something he knew the Hughes family to fight for, and he had no doubts that this was going to be the hardest of all those battles, one that Gracia would be alone in fighting. Others would stand on the sidelines, offering sad smiles and company, condolences and offers of support, but she would raise her daughter alone. Widowed, her daughter half orphaned. It was so far past fair that Roy was wishing he was able to bring Maes back, some dark, desperate part of him his mind begging for their to be a way. But the Elrics had tried that, hadn't they? They were desperate boys then, trying to cling to their own broken little family, so what the hell did that make him?
His eyes moved back over the coffin now, as Gracia moved away from him, rubbing at her eyes and sniffing. He didn't offer her a smile, or some useless sympathy. He knew that it wouldn't help, and she would soon be drowning in such responses. He would be there, silent but always available. He would help her however he could, he would try to be like a father figure in his god-daughter's life. "Yes. I think I would like this one." He heard her mumble, looking over it again. "I can't even begin to think of flowers though. Could I ask you to handle the rest? I just want to go home to my daughter."
Roy smiled at her, nodding. "Of course, Gracia. Riza should still be waiting outside. She'll be sure to take you home. I will try to do you both proud." Roy tells her, ignoring how his voice cracks at the end of his sentence, ignoring the aching physical pain in his gut from the loss of his best friend. He watched her go sadly, before leaving to get the gentleman from before.
It took another hour before Roy was finally able to decide on the flowers, wanting to do his friend justice and fearing that anything he could possibly pick wasn't good enough. How could it be? Maes had always been the better of them both. He was stronger, happier. He was able to love, and forgive and Roy had just wallowed in his guilt, half praying that someone would kill him for his mistakes if only for the relief of not having to relive them night after night. He did decide on flowers though. A mix of carnations, each colour seemingly symbolising something meaning. Love, remembrance, admiration. Carnations were the flowers that Maes had given to Gracia on their first date. They were the flowers he gave her every year on their anniversary, on her birthday. They were the flowers on his love for her, and Roy knew that those feelings were never going to fade. He had no doubt that Maes would have continues to have loads of children and dote on them all with renewed vigour, annoying Roy with their photos and tales of their days in the sun at the park. He had no doubt that Maes would have grown old with Gracia, dying only when it was right, when he should have. Maes would love his wife and his daughter forever.
Roy left the building after arranging and paying for everything. The blackness was oppressive, but he knew he had to fight on. He had to get justice for Maes, he had to stop the wrongs that this country was committing, he had to right his mistakes. Maes had believed in him, had pushed him every step of the way, silently supporting his dreams and helping to pave the way for him. He had to fight. For Maes.
The sun's heat was blistering in the desert terrain as Roy stood in his military uniform. He hadn't been to this part of the country for years but it would come to him at nights to torture him. It came with the dreams that woke him at various hours of the night. Memories of the actions he'd once committed. He had come out here again – years after the war – to take in the damage he'd caused. To remind himself of what he'd done and why he had to fix it. The buildings, what was left of them anyway, were empty shells of the homes and shops they had once been. There was no wind in the air and Roy stared at the street he stood in. The walls were bleached with the sun and dirt and sand spread over everything. He walked down the street, turning into another area. This was a small courtyard and he remembered that he and Maes had camped out here one night during the war. They had started speaking of light topics, but the conversation had soon taken a darker turn. Maes had gotten Roy to speak of his master and the secrets of flame alchemy. They had spoken in hushed tones of Riza, ever paranoid that the sniper could be among them. The conversation should have ended there but they couldn't sleep and so they continued.
"Its not right, Roy. This war." Maes had said, looking his friend in the eye before glancing away and shaking his head sadly. Roy didn't reply. There was nothing of value that he could have said. "This wasn't what I wanted when I signed up. We're meant to be saving this country's people, not wiping them out." Maes slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out the folded letter he'd received from Gracia. He stared down at it. Roy looked down at Hughes and sighed sadly. He pressed a hand to Maes' shoulder.
"No Maes, its not right. But these are our orders. We must follow them as we have been told to. It's not our choice to decide if they are right or not." Roy said quietly, looking away from his friend. Alchemists were meant to be for the people. He was meant to use his powers to help people, to save them. All he was doing here was causing devastation. A mass murder in one day. He was a mass murderer, all in a matter of minutes.
"Roy, they killed a child earlier. A little girl that they had found hiding under a bed in her own home. They pulled her from her hiding place and shot her!"
And they had. Roy had remembered seeing the child's body as it was dumped on the ground outside her home. A little girl with darker skin and huge terror-filled red eyes. Dark blood stained her face, neck and hair from where the bullet had torn her life out. Roy clenched his jaw and leaned on the wall he stood by. That war had changed them all. They had all been beaten and tortured by the memories of that battle, but he seemed to suffer the worst from the nightmares. Maes had them, but he was comforted by his wife and his darling daughter. Riza never spoke of them, but Roy was able to tell in her eyes that she was suffering. Both of them were strong though, where as he had hated himself for the pointless murder. He'd been weak and turned to drink, he'd tried to take his life before Maes had stopped him. Maes was in the background, trying to get him to stop drinking. Maes had been the one to cut him off when he'd had too much and Maes was the one that had made sure Roy had gotten home safely. Maes had been the first supporter Roy had gotten, and he had been the closest and most loved friend. Maes had shown Roy that he wasn't alone, that he could still make things right.
But now Maes was gone. He had been ripped from Roy and now the colonel was left without the crutch of their friendship. He had lost one of those most dear to him and now he was doubting his abilities. Maes had found out about the danger in the military long before Roy had even known anything was wrong and now Roy was trusting a child to help save them.
"Now, Roy, you know that Ed is much more than a child." Maes' voice rung out, as clear as day. Roy knew that it wasn't him. This wasn't Hughes, it was just an illusion of his own broken mind, but it was still mildly comforting. He didn't reply to the air though. Roy looked up at the cloudless sky, ignoring the trail of the tears down his cheek. He had come back to this place for a brutal reminder of the war, to remind himself of his goals, but the memory of his friend was not intended and it only cast more doubt into his heart. Roy dropped his gaze from the sky and let his eyes rest on the figure in front of him. She was dressed in a military uniform also, but she wore a white coat to protect herself from the sun. Her guns were clearly on show, but there was nobody around here to warn. She saluted him and he returned it halfheartedly.
Riza walked over to Roy after he nodded a greeting and held his gaze. "Sir, what good is coming from us being here? We should go."
Roy looked at her and nodded his agreement, but he didn't move to go. This was his doing and being here in the ruins of a civilisation hurt him more than he cared to admit, but he should suffer. He shouldn't be allowed to not suffer for his actions. This ruined civilisation was because of him, and it had been so easy. Roy dropped to his knees, bowing his head and staring at the sand floor beneath him and it took all his control to stop himself from sobbing. Riza knelt in front him silently and pulled Roy to her. She wrapped her arms around his back and he hesitated only a moment before he held onto her. He buried his face into the material of her jacket and cried silently. Riza sat with him, holding him. She knew that he didn't want to talk, and she knew exactly what was wrong so there was no need to talk about it. She rested her head on his shoulder.
"Roy, you are only human. It's okay to hurt. You cannot give up. We need you to lead us into a better world. Maes died believing in you, Roy," Riza pulled away to look in his eyes, but she didn't break the embrace, "we all still believe in you Roy." She murmured to him and in that moment Roy understood it all. He had lost Maes and nothing would change that, but that did not mean that he had to be left feeling hopeless. His men and his country were still looking for a leader that would make the world a better place. He was that man and as long as he had the support of his men he could do it. Since Hughes' death, Roy had often wondered who would be his crutch. Who would comfort him when he needed in his darkest and coldest moment and now he knew that Riza would always be there to pick him up once he'd fell to pieces. Roy raised a hand and pressed it to his subordinate's cheek and offered her a small smile when he wiped his tears away.
"I know that it's hard sir. It's hard to know how to move forward when Hughes is gone and it seems like your every move is being watched, but you can't give up because we need you to keep fighting, sir." Riza smiled at him when he nodded and stood up. She took the hand that he offered to her and let him pull her to her feet. She saluted him and they shared another smile. "I will follow you always, Colonel."
Roy returned her salute and then turned to leave the past behind. He didn't need to reply, they both knew that this moment between them wouldn't be spoken of, but they wouldn't forget it. They both knew how much he was struggling to just live another day, to fight that bit harder. They both knew that while they weren't as close friends as he had been with Maes, that they were still friends and that she would always have his back. She would always love him, and he would cherish that, just as Maes cherished Gracia.