Title: Buried memories
Genre: Angst and drama. You can find some romance here too.
Pairings: RoyxEd
Rate: mostly R-15, rated M for a lemon and mature themes.
Warnings: obviously yaoi, slight sex content, AU-ish and spoilers from the anime.
Summary: When an accident took his memories, Edward realizes that even his feelings were taken away.
A.N.: It's divided in three chapters. This time, I used an older Edward (20-year old) and the anime storyline without Ed traveling to our world; Alphonse is dead. This chapter is mostly in Roy's POV. I did some research on Wikipedia for the medical terms.
This Fic's beta reader is: thoughtless dreamer - thank you Jessie for your hard work and you absolutelly turned it one million times better than the original. :)
Please R&R!
01
"Fragments"
When your past is filled with painful memories, anyone would want to forget. Edward went through much pain and suffering to bring his brother's body back, searching frantically for the Philosopher's Stone. They found it, but the younger brother sacrificed his own life to bring back his beloved brother from death. Unable to accept this, the older was going to give up his life again when the wheels of destiny began moving again. The Tringham brothers came to search for them, and stopped Edward before he could do anything.
Meanwhile, far away the Flame alchemist was fighting against the Homunculus named Pride and won. Terribly injured, he received one more wound that would change his life forever; a gunshot to the face that permanently look away all sigh in his left eye.
In a hospital, they were put together. Edward was in treatment for psychotic impulses of self-destruction and Roy for depression after losing his eye.
After a traumatic recuperation, Roy and Edward realized feelings for each other that they struggled to keep hidden in the bottoms of their hearts.
Thus, a new life and a new beginning were started.
Amestris, December 01. Five years later.
The wheels of destiny are moving again…
Roy was in such a hurry--he was already late for some of his appointments that day. He was put in charge as the newest Fuhrer, and it was proving quite difficult to adjust. Meetings that were followed by, paperwork followed by even more meetings plus discussions concerning the country's future were only a few of his daily obligations. He was also busy handling his family, his husband and lover, the former Fullmetal Alchemist.
They had married under the new laws for homosexual couples, which legalized both marriages and adoption. It was clear that no one was safe from war, and the State understood that those who were left behind had the right (not to mention the need) to go ahead and live their lives with their new companions, be it a man or a woman. Edward wasn't exactly the lovingly type, but fervently disliked being alone for long periods of time. After all, he was an energetic young man and even hours of good sex weren't enough to satisfy him. That was why Roy let him help in the office as his personal assistant and direct subordinate.
The raven haired man parked the official car before getting out and opening the door for his consort. Edward snorted and grinned.
"You're such a dork in public."
"I'm the Fuhrer, delivering his spouse to the train station," Roy scowled. Ed knew that he was late… but it was like a ritual for them; wherever one is going, the other will be.
"I'll be back in three days… Risembool needs some assistance and I'm gonna visit Granny and Winry," the blonde teased, smiling up at the taller man, caressing his chest beneath his uniform.
"I worked hard on you yesterday, and yet you're still hungry for more?" the dark haired man smirked as he took the blonde on his arms; he had always found it sexy to see Edward taking the initiative.
"Don't give me any ideas, pervert… or you'll make me miss the train," the younger man replied before he kissed him and grabbed his small suitcase. He stepped a few meters ahead before calling back "I'll call when I get there."
"I'll be waiting… take care," Roy smiled, his good eye following the blonde walking through the crowd.
Roy walked through the Headquarters' corridors, followed by officials and his administrative team. It'd taken him nearly an hour to get there because of a car crash on a main avenue. As usual, his appointments were sure to take up the entirety of his day, and once more he'd be going home late.
The raven haired man took a seat on his chair, his secretary coming up to inform him that General Hakuro was waiting for him. 'The bastard probably wants to talk about the conflicts with the rebels,' Roy thought sourly.
Said rebels were causing more and more trouble and needed to be stopped. Ishbalan immigrants had formed a militia, and had been attacking both civilians
and members of the military simply for "the cause". They wanted the rights to territory in the east near Risembool to create a new, independent country. Ed was worried and had decided to visit his friends.
Roy glanced over the pictures on his desk. Ed was in each one. With no blood relatives around, the blonde was more than his spouse--he was his life.
"Sir?" the secretary called, startling him from his reverie.
"…Sorry, I was daydreaming…" he replied, placing a hand on his face, a sudden and awful feeling overcoming him, making him sick to his stomach. It was probably because of Ed's pancakes from breakfast.
"Sir, if you want, I could ask General Travis to take care of your appointments this morning…" she trailed off, blushing slightly.
"Pardon my indiscretion, but you don't look so good…"
"Thank you Sheska, it's probably just a stomachache…" Ed's culinary weren't the best, but he enjoys cooking for him—much to Roy's stomach's despair.
Suddenly, General Hakuro, accompanied by other officials, entered the office, interrupting them.
"Fuhrer!" they greeted him with a salute.
"We have an emergency!"
"What happened?" Roy demand with a sinking feeling.
"Another terrorist attack, Sir… this time was bigger than any previous attack, Sir," General Hakuro frowned.
"They attacked a civilian passenger train just minutes ago…"
"What was the outcome? Were the passengers hurt? Killed?" he ordered, standing quickly from his chair.
"Where was the train's final destination?"
"We're not entirely sure that the information we've collected is entirely accurate, seeing as the rescue teams only arrived just now, but we can estimate that there were at least a hundred people wounded, Sir," he paused uncertaintly, before finally finishing with "its final destination was Risembool."
"Ed…" Roy muttered to himself, dumbfounded.
"Your consort was one the passenger that I know was on for sure… but only one car was completely destroyed—the others were merely badly shaken… there's a very high chance that he survived."
Roy breathed deeply, forcing himself to remain calm. He was the Fuhrer, and as such could not run like a lunatic after Ed, as much as we might want to. He had to try and think straight. Many lives depend on him, not just Ed's.
"Who's in command of the team? How many officers were sent there?" he finally croaked out.
"Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong was sent with two troops, Sir. Firemen and hospitals have been contacted. Major Hawkeye is now talking with the press… And an investigation team is already there under Colonel Davidson's command."
"Send one more troop to keep any curious civilians away from the accident site. Call in those State Alchemists specializing in medicine to help… where did it happen?"
"The train was just leaving the city's urban perimeter, Sir; just four miles from the eastern district."
"General Hakuro, you are officially in charge of this case. Please keep me posted. Dismissed."
"Yes, Sir!" Hakuro saluted him once more before leaving the office with his accompanying officials.
At last, Roy allowed his hands to come up to cover his face, breathing in shakily as he tried to keep calm. Rage and despair threatened him to overtake his self-control, because what he really wanted was to set the bastards responsible for this mess on fire for what'd they done.
'Ed… he's fine, he's strong and smart--he's fine…' the man repeated to himself. He barely noticed the one remaining person in his office, his secretary.
"Sir… should I bring you some chamomile tea for your nerves?" she asked timidly.
"Thank you, Shezka. That would be very kind… but I need to ask one more favor from you…"
December, 03. Two days later.
Central was in chaos. Fear and panic were in every street, every house. The accident's final toll was 124 people wounded and 30 dead; but because the fire had charred the bodies to the extent at which it was utterly impossible for families to recognize them, a collective funeral was organized.
The press was hounding the State like dogs, hungry for any breech, any signal of weakness. The separatist group had made their participation in the attack absolutely clear and promised more. Besides his overwhelming obligations and duties, Roy still has one more concern. Ed had been found alive, but with a severe concussion and a broken leg. He was in coma for an undetermined amount of time.
Since the day of the accident, as soon as his daily appointments were finished for the day, he'd been there for Ed—just in case his husband woke up. Roy was all too aware of just how much he needed him, and was scared to death at the prospect of his blonde leaving him.
"Sir, you really should rest… its past midnight," a nurse came to tell him. He'd fallen asleep by Ed's bedside.
"Thank you… have there been any changes?" Roy asked wearily, gazing at the immobile blonde.
"Unfortunately no, Sir… perhaps tomorrow?" he knew she was trying to be gentle.
"Sorry Ed… I have to work tomorrow…" Roy held the younger man's left hand, feeling how warm it was. It was this clear signal of life that helped him keep faith. He caressed that soft hand and touched his wedding ring; the one he'd placed there three years ago. Ed's head was swathed with bandages, but for the older man, this didn't take away from the blonde's beauty at all. He cupped his pale cheek with his other hand, hoping this simple gesture could reach his husband, wherever he might be right now.
The raven haired man sighed and pressed a soft kiss to his warm lips. As he pulled away from the kiss, Roy felt Ed's hand stir.
"His hand moved!" he exclaimed, glancing towards the nurse in shock.
"I'll call the doctors," she said, quickly leaving the room.
"Ed… can you hear me? Please… come back to me… I'm begging you…" Roy murmured, squeezing the blonde's hand with his own and pressing it to his face.
Again it moved, and this time pressed weakly back against Roy's hand. The older man couldn't believe it. When Ed's eyelids stirred and finally opened, Roy's heart ached at seeing those amber eyes again.
The blonde whimpered, looking confused. Roy called his name, but something was wrong. Behind him, the dark haired man heard the doctor approaching.
"Edward, how are you? Does something hurt?" the doctor asked, swiftly examining the blonde.
"Ed…ward?" the blonde's voice croaked out at last.
"Can you tell me your name?" a frown formed on the doctor's face before he whipped out a flashlight.
"Please follow the light with your eyes," he demanded, moving the light before the blonde's eyes.
"My… name?" the young man repeated as his brow furrowed, seemingly pondering the question "….can't remember."
Roy couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"What about me? Do you know who I am?" he asked hopefully, leaning forward.
Again the blonde frowned.
"…I know… your face…" he began slowly, trying to sit up. The doctor held him down.
"Just relax, Ed—please don't move."
"Let me go! I don't know this place!" the blonde yelled, visibly disturbed as he tried to fight against the doctor's hold.
Immediately the doctor ordered the nurse to restrain the blonde while he injected a white substance into his IV, making Ed fall unconscious mere seconds later.
"What's going on? Why can't he remember his name?" Roy demanded the man.
"I can't say for sure. Tomorrow we're going to take a couple of tests and examine him again. He had a severe concussion, and it's too early to make diagnosis right now with what little information we have," he replied sternly, before adding "at least he's out of his coma."
"Please keep me posted…" Roy said, frowning as he regarded the sleeping blonde. He couldn't have just forgotten everything just like that... surely this was just a temporary mishap caused by trauma; he was just struggling to retain his sanity, that's all.
He can't lose Ed. He refuses to lose the love of his life.
December, 04. Three days after the accident.
Amber eyes curiously watched the people in white gowns examine him. Why was he was there in the first place, anyway? He couldn't remember how he'd gotten a broken plus an injury to the head. He'd seen the same doctors last night, but everything is so confusing… he can't even clearly remember who he himself is. When he'd woken up after being sedated, those people had told him his name, causing some mixed memories to come back. There had been one with a pretty, brown-haired woman and a little boy, another with a suit of armor, and many more with a lot of faces; faces that he couldn't place names to.
He knew for a fact, however, that something very important is missing, because although his mind may have forgotten, his heart cannot.
"Alright, Ed, we finished all your tests for today—you can rest now," an old doctor said, but he only blinked lazily in response. His head was so heavy…
"Okay… but… doctor? Do I have any relatives? Where do I live?" he really needed answers, and couldn't wait.
"Well I know you're married, but I don't know of any other relatives you may have. Your home is at the Palace, where the Fuhrer lives."
"M-married? Who is she? Why do I live at the Fuhrer's house?" the blonde gasped in surprise.
"Why, you're married to the Fuhrer. Roy Mustang, the leader of our country," the doctor smiled.
"Don't worry about your memories, I believe that this is only a temporary case of amnesia… you should remember everything soon."
The blonde remained silent, trying to absorb all this new information. He was married… and to a GUY! Roy Mustang, he'd said… but…
This name was familiar.
He looked at the ring on his left finger and slipped it off. And lo and behold, the man's name was engraved into the golden ring.
Ed took a slow, deep breath in. Okay, so far he's discovered that… that he's gay…
Well, he admitted he had found that one of the young doctors was rather handsome, and he'd felt slightly attracted. But could this Mustang guy be that important thing he'd felt missing?
The blonde was just nodding off when the door to his room was thrown open abruptly thrown, and a small blonde boy came running in.
"Mommy! Mommy!" the boy yelled, running toward the bed to hug him.
"W-what? I… I'm not-" Ed began, staring at the small boy in a slight panic.
"Alan don't run like that--and get out of the bed!" A tall, raven haired man scolded as he entered and…and…
And Ed couldn't BELIEVE how very attractive he was!
What he was thinking?
"Sorry, Daddy…" the small boy mumbled disappointedly, clambering down.
"…Just wanna see Mommy."
"I told you, Alan… his memory is a little fuzzy right now, and he might not recognize us," Roy said gently, pulling his five-year-old son close against him before looking up.
"Good morning, Ed… Are you feeling better?" he asked, gazing at the blonde sadly.
"I… I'm fine… But I don't understand… I know your faces but… I can't remember…" the blonde trailed off, frowning in confusion.
"I'm Roy Mustang, and this is Alan Mustang our—my son." Roy corrected. Perhaps Ed still didn't remember that they were married.
Immediately the blonde's cheeks flushed darkly. He had a son? How could that be?
"I'm sorry…" the blonde mumbled, averting his eyes.
"Mommy…" the boy pleaded.
"Alan… I'm sure that Breda can get you a big chocolate donut in the cafeteria… here, he's outside waiting for us," Roy said as he guided the small boy to the door where Breda relieved him of his child.
The raven haired man pulled a chair to Ed's bedside, trying his best to hide his aggravation—he was so frustrated with their current predicament.
"I was wondering… why does that boy call me 'mommy?'" Ed asked.
"We adopted him just a few months after our wedding… At the time, he was only two years old, and as far as it was known hadn't ever said a word in the orphanage. But when we first brought him home to see how he would react, and he saw you the first thing he said was 'Mommy…'" Roy sighed. The memory was still fresh in his mind, just as if it had happened yesterday.
"We tried many times to explain to him that you're a man, and therefore you're not really a 'mommy' but…"
"He seems like a wonderful kid," the blonde said, smiling slightly.
"Yeah, he is. You've been raising him pretty well," Roy commented casually, but his heart was racing; perhaps Ed was remembering something?
"Me…? What have you been doing, bastard?" Ed replied before frowning in bewilderment--why had he referred to the Fuhrer like that?!
"I'm sorry… I-I didn't mean that."
"'Bastard…?'" the older man repeated as he grinned.
"You always call me that… that, and a bunch of other things, usually during… certain activities."
"So… what kind of relationship do we have…?" Ed interrupted him as he felt his cheeks burning again. Shit! Guys aren't supposed to blush!
"We're quite happy together… but like any couple, we've had our differences… Alan loves us both, and even with my position and responsibilities, we manage to meet up often. In fact, you work with me, for me, in the office."
"I see…"
However, the blonde could not help but wonder why the life that this man is describing to him doesn't make any sense at all. He just couldn't imagine raising a child with another man. However, he does feel sorry for the child.
His mind was racing wildly… fragments of memories teasing them with their presence behind what felt like a wall. Gazing at the dark-haired man's face, one last memory came to mind; it was the two of them in a bed connected as one, in a pure manifestation of lust and desire.
"Are you ok?" Roy asked slowly, looking concerned. A black look had suddenly taken over Edward's face, and the young man was staring off into space blankly.
The blonde turned his head away, looking embarrassed.
"Y-yeah…"
"The doctor said that you can go home in another two or three days… Until then, I'll try to come here as much as I can. It's just, the State's in the middle of a pretty big crisis right now…" Roy said, glancing down at his pocket watch—his shoulders visibly slumping.
"I have to go, but Alan wants to stay with you so… I mean, if you don't mind…"
"Its fine… thanks, Colonel," the blonde answered, still looking away.
"I'm no longer a Colonel, Ed… Please, call me Roy." The raven haired man answered, leaving the room with a sad expression.
Later that same day, Ed found himself sharing his lunch with the small boy. The kid was really smart and very energetic, but this wasn't the child in his memories. Who was that woman with such a warm smile on her face? He tried his hardest to remember… still nothing.
"Mommy… you 'seems' funny," Alan said as he took a spoonful of jelly from Ed's meal.
"Funny? Whaddya mean?" Ed smiled.
The child remained quiet.
"What's wrong?" the young man asked, frowning slightly.
"Before hospital, Mommy always 'laughs' and talks lots…" the small boy said meekly, suddenly grabbing Ed's hand.
"Mommy, I love you, I'll be good, Mommy…" now large tears were falling from the child's eyes.
"Don't leave me… Daddy is sad too… I promise I'll do anything…" the boy blubbered, sobbing loudly by this point.
The boy's cries caught Edward off guard. Alan thought that he was being indifferent and intended to abandon him. His chest immediately ached at the thought, and he embraced the child purely through instinct.
"Uh, I'm s-sorry if I did something weird, okay? G-guys don't cry, so… chin up and don't worry about it! I won't leave you," Ed stammered out, hoping that it sounded even vaguely like something a parent might say. He felt so disappointed with himself.
"Mommy? Too tight…" the boy squeaked, from where he was being squeezed between Edward's arms.
"O-oh! Sorry!" Ed apologized, releasing him quickly.
"Mommy loves you too… " Ed smiled, caressing Alan's golden mane. What was this…awkward feeling? Why he's playing along with this child he can't remember just to make him happy?
And why does he care so much, to the point that his chest hurts?
By fate or, perhaps a twist of destiny, the answer to his question—as well as the thousands of others tumbling around his head—simply continued to elude him…
To be continued.