"Roy can still be a real jerk sometimes when we talk. But this time we're on the same footing, y'know? And if he starts getting' all down and starts drinking again…I'll hide the keys to the liquor cabinet. He'll have a hell of a time finding them, that's for damn sure."

Fic: Persistence of Vision, Chapter 1

By binaryalchemist

Rating: PG 13 for language

Genre: Gen Fic,Chapter 102 spoilers

Sequel to 'Eyes of the Heart"

"I lost my eyesight-not my vision" Undeterred by blindness, Roy Mustang is determined to practice alchemy again, this time with Edward as his partner. Months ago Roy returned to Central to enter a school for the blind. Nearing his graduation, Ed has come up for a visit to check on Roy's progress…

Persistence of Vision, Chapter 1

(A Sequel to "Eyes of the Heart)

By The Binary Alchemist 2010

"I…talked to him. A week ago." It was odd to see her fiddle with her tea cup like that. The Lieutenant wasn't someone who had wasteful nervous habits. "He says he's doing well."

Ed frowned. "But…that's good, right? I mean, if he's making progress—"

"He says he doesn't need anything right now." There was a tacit understanding that she did not need to add including me. Ed nodded briskly. It occurred to him that an offer of sympathy, however sincere, would not be appreciated. Her heart was hurt. No sense wounding her pride as well.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, nodding briskly. She glanced up and for a moment he thought he saw gratitude in her eyes. She doesn't have to explain it to me. He rose and shrugged on his coat. "I'll give him your best."

"Thank you. Tell him…if there's anything….?"

Ed shook his head. "You tell him, Lieutenant. When he comes back to work. He's gonna need us all."

She glanced up. "You're going to come back, then?"

Ed shrugged and grinned. "A lot of messes need cleaning up. He made some of 'em. So did I . So did my dad. Mom always told me to pick up after myself. 'Sides, we've figured out how he can use flame alchemy again. It'll be a team effort, but I'm up for the challenge—provided we don't end up strangling each other."

She looked doubtful but nodded. "All right. Keep in touch—and do you need me to help you find a place to live here?"

"Actually, I've got the keys to Roy's place. Getting' it fixed up so he can get around without busting his ass. Y'know—talked to this guy from the Blind School and got some books. Changing things around so he can find stuff. Going through his books—we're talking about doing over his notes with that Braille tablet thing. Oh, and Master Julian is coming to see us once Roy gets out."

"Mr.—?"

"Alchemist for the Harbinger family. Lost his eyes in a rebound. He—" Ed stopped just short of blurting out that Master Julian had lost his sight the same way Ed had lost his limbs, attempting to resurrect the Harbinger's dead child Rosalie—with chilling results. Just the thought of that…thing…sitting almost motionless in its ribbons and petticoats…was enough to turn his stomach. Mom…if we'd come closer to succeeding…that would have been you. "He's never let blindness get in his way as an alchemist. Roy's anxious to get going as soon as they let him graduate." He dug in his hands in his pockets, running out of small talk. "Yeah…uh…anyway, this'll be the first time I've seen Roy since he went in, so…"

"You call him Roy now."

"Or 'asshole', depending on how pissed off he makes me. Roy can still be a real jerk sometimes when we talk. But this time we're on the same footing, y'know? And if he starts getting' all down and starts drinking again…I'll hide the keys to the liquor cabinet. He'll have a hell of a time finding them, that's for damn sure."

"Hey, Havoc!"

"Chief! S'good to see you!" A broad hand clasped his own across the desk bearing the name plate Lieutenant Colonel Jean Havoc, Quartermaster, Central Headquarters. "Even better to see you standing on your own two feet!"

"You too," Ed pointed out wryly. The wheelchair had been replaced with a walker and Havoc was back in uniform again. He'd gained some much needed weight—in part to Maria Ross' good cooking—but he'd kept his goatee. He'd kept the damned cigarettes too, and his laid back attitude had been replaced with a new sense of energy and enthusiasm. "May Chang still working on your back?"

'Yeah—great kid. Amazing shit they can do in Xing. Y'know," he leaned in and lowered his voice, "she's still wondering why Al's not coming to see her."

"Al's….well…kind of preoccupied these days…"

Havoc blinked. "Oh? Discovered girls now that he's got a body again?"

"One girl, actually. More like she's discovered him—or maybe she got her head cleared up about him. Anyway, he's moved his stuff upstairs to her room now."

"'Her' being…?"

"He's staying in Resembool. With Winry."

Havoc nearly dropped his cigarette. "Damn Didn't see that coming. You okay with that, Chief?"

"Okay? Shit, can't wait until I have a bunch of nieces and nephews to spoil. With her mechanical skills and his alchemy, there's no telling what they can dream up together. "

"And what are you doing in the meantime? Still planning to teach the Boss how to aim his flamer? May said you two had talked a lot about that." He handed Ed a cup of coffee. "Said she taught you that remote array thing. Does it work with flame alchemy?"

Ed took a sip and grinned. He'd almost missed the rank bitterness of HQ coffee. It was good to be back. Even better without Roy giving him hell from the other side of a desk. "That's what we're gonna find out. Got a call from Kellar. He's Roy's trainer. Said Roy's done with his basic M & O so I ought to come up for one of his tests. Don't know what that's all about, but—"

"M & O? What's that?" Havoc cut in.

"Shit. Sorry. Learning all this blind lingo," Ed apologized. "Mobility and Orientation. Kinda like boot camp for the blind. Gotta learn stuff like walking with a trainer and how to use a cane. How to get around and listen to what's around you. Roy said the worst was learning how to take a piss without wizzing all over the wall, y'know? 'Cause he didn't want to have to sit down like a girl." He chuckled sadistically at the mental image of Roy peeing all over his own shoes.

Havoc howled and slapped the desk. "Damn. Somebody had to tell Roy how to point his pecker! I gotta tell Breda."

"You do and I'm gonna get a white cane up my ass for telling you. He'll probably tell you himself. Seems like he's—I don't know. He's gotten his head out of his ass and is acting like a human being, not like a total dick. Well…most of the time."

"I hear you. And I got something for him. I may be Quartermaster, but I'm still something of an…ah…acquisitions specialist."

"You mean black market smuggler, right?" Ed smirked.

"Shut your mouth, kid. This," he passed Ed a wrapped bottle,"could get me Court Martialed."

He glanced at the sign on the lawn. The Sullavan Centre. Nice. The lawn was well manicured and as soon as he got out of the cab the rich aroma of the rosemary hedge caught his attention. There were bushes of sweet lavender and pots of other scented herbs flanking the paved path to the door. A flash of color along the sides appeared to be a well-tended patch of perennials with raised lettering on the markers. Must be the garden Roy talked about. Roy had told him that Kellar had him up to his elbows in dirt and compost, helping to get in some new flowers for the scent trail. "We can orient ourselves around the building by scent and sound," Ed had been told. "Herbs in the front. Roses in the back. Bedding plants on the right and evergreens on the left side near the street." It made a lot of sense if you thought about it.

Five steps up…three paces forward. Bell on the right about elbow high. Was that how Roy "saw" the world now, as a series of orientations and smells and counted steps? Yeah, guess so…but how many coffee cups did I smash before learning to make my fingers grasp after my automail surgery?

A smiling woman in a neat uniform greeted him and took his coat. "You'd be Mr. Elric. You're Roy's guest for dinner. Welcome to Sullavan Centre. I'm Lydia. I'll have the porter take your bag up to your room. Mr. Kellar has instructed me to take you down to the class directly. Most of tonight's guests won't be staying overnight, but he says you're planning to work with Roy as a partner when he graduates?"

"Uhh…yeah. I talked to that Sullavan guy and to Kellar. I've been getting Roy's house all set up. Roy said this was some sort of test he's taking and I needed to be here, but I don't really know—"

Lydia beamed. "It's a surprise for the friends and families. The students make a complete four course dinner from scratch and serve it in the formal dining room."

Ed's jaw dropped. "You have got to be kidding! Mustang's idea of a home cooked meal is speed dialing the Xingese take-out. I wouldn't trust him to make a ham sandwich that's fit to eat."

She gestured for him to follow as she guided him down a hall to the left. "I think you'll be surprised," she told him confidently.

"Yeah, surprised if we don't all die of ptomaine poisoning. His coffee sucks."

Lydia paused, then turned sharply to the left again towards a set of swinging double doors. She took eight measured steps, stopped again and extended her hand. "Here we are!" She knocked and called out "Mr. Kellar? Mr. Elric is here!"

"Come!"

She turned deliberately around and faced Ed. It was at that moment he realized she was looking through him. "You're…you're blind!" he blurted out, then slapped his hand over his mouth. "Shit, I'm sorry," he blundered, thankful she couldn't see how red he'd turned."

She laughed warmly. "I'm sorry a bit, so don't get yourself in twist about it. In you go!"

Ed hadn't known, well, what to expect. He had this weird mental image of a dimly lit classroom, row upon row of dingy desks and blank faced children in grey uniforms. All silent. All solemn. All sorrowful and serious. He'd felt awkward about coming, not knowing what to say or how to avoid offending anyone. If he'd known Lydia was blind—

But maybe that was the point. How the hell must it feel when everybody feels sorry for you? Shit, they must hate it. I kinda see what Roy meant about Riza. Must be suffocating, people wanting to manage things and keep you safe…it's a real kick in the nuts when you'd rather take care of yourself. Fact is, though, Roy's not gonna be able to function on his own, much as he wants to. I can do it and not slop all over him. Jeeze. How humiliating. But he can't live by himself. That's for damn sure.

He hadn't known what to expect. The laughter was a complete shock.

The room was set up like a kitchen, and three flour-dusted people were leaning on the counters, laughing so hard they were holding their sides. A tall ginger-haired man waved a greeting to Ed and gestured him to join him at a small table slightly out of the cooking area. "Sam Kellar," he introduced himself quietly. "We've spoken several times. Good to meet you, Ed. Welcome to class!"

"What are they doing?" Ed asked.

"Baking bread for tonight's dinner. From scratch, I might add. Roy got tapped to make the bread and dessert but he's never worked with yeast dough before."

"He's never worked with any kind of dough before," Ed stammered. "Crap, that's not easy. I used to watch my mom do it."

Kellar grinned, held a finger to his lips and nodded in the direction of the three students. Roy's companions were a 40-ish woman with curly brown hair and a muscular blond man in his mid-twenties. "How's it coming, you three?"

"If I find Arthen's face, can I slap him?" the woman wanted to know.

"What did he say, Dia?"

Roy turned towards his teacher. "Well, I was asking Dia how to tell if the dough has finished its second rise. She said I should pat it and see if it feels like a baby's bottom."

"And I told her the only bottoms Roy's familiar with are under skirts, not diapers!" the man named Arthen chuckled.

"To which I responded that as a gentleman I would decline to respond to that crude remark," Roy added dryly. "And that since I am relatively unfamiliar with babies in general I asked if there was another comparison. And this..uncouth, foul-mouthed—"

"—son of a bitch," Dia chimed in.

"—son of a bitch," Roy agreed, "said that correctly risen bread feels just like—"

"A tit!" Dia whooped.

"A warm, buxom tit," Arthen corrected. "A nice hefty C-cup at least."

"And…and..Roy said…" Dia was wiping her eyes on her apron. "R-Roy said..'if that's the kind of measuring cups we get to use now, he would have gone blind years ago!"

"You know, Arthen—they used to tell us at the Academy that self abuse would make you go blind. Is that how you got here?"

Ed's mouth hung open in shock. How the hell could they crack jokes about…well..

"Why do I feel like I'm stuck in the kitchen with Jean Havoc?" Roy demanded to know as he carefully placed the dough into a bread pan, turning around to face the hot oven.

"Excuse me for a moment, Ed. Roy! People! Settle down a minute and orient for me! Dia?"

"Oven's on my left. Work surface is on my right."

"Good. Start cleaning up. Arthen?"

"Oven's on my right. Garbage bin's near my boot. Open space on my left."

"Pantry's behind you. Get the broom and dust pan and sweep up. Roy?"

"Oven straight in front of me about…an arm's length."

"Where are your oven mitts?"

"Hanging on the rack to my right at 3 o'clock."

"Good. Now put the bread in the oven, middle of the second rack. Dia? You got the timer? Set it to one hour—that's four clicks. Soon as you've got the bread in, Roy, take a break. Ed's here to see you."

"I'll show you my room." A flick of his wrist unfolded a white cane. The stopped before the high staircase. "I'd prefer not to use the elevator now."

"Uhh, okay…" Ed stood back as Roy got his bearings briefly then mounted the stairs confidently, one hand on the rail, his cane tucked under his arm. Pausing halfway up, Roy turned his head over his shoulder and asked if there was something wrong with Ed's legs. Scowling, Ed dashed up the stairs behind his former commanding officer.

On a small table there was a Cretan coffee press."A gift from Falman. The kitchen closes at nine. Sometimes I want a cup before bed, so they let me have this upstairs."

"Oh. Great. I'll—"

" I can do it myself, Ed." There was a hit of irritation in Roy's voice "All the fill lines are raised. Clever design."

Roy plugged in an electric kettle. On a tray were several thick china cups, a bowl of sugar cubes and a small tin of coarse ground coffee beans. "And Dia made these as a homework assignment." He opened a biscuit tin and Ed could smell ginger and molasses. "They're excellent. She's a chef and baked a lot as a hobby before she lost her sight and didn't want to lose her touch. If nothing else, by the time I leave here she'll have made me a better cook. That way we won't have to eat out all the time."

"A chef? Geeze, what will she do when she gets out of here?"

One dark eyebrow arched a fraction. "Return to her restaurant, of course. She's invited us as guests to her welcome back dinner after graduation. When she learned you were from Resembool she promised to make a rack of lamb for you. I told her we would be there. I didn't think you'd mind."

For the first time, Ed felt awkward. It didn't add up, not to what he imagined life would be like for the blind. Okay, Roy didn't want to be fussed over, but he pretty much assumed that he'd be helping to care for his former commanding officer. Hearing about Roy's classmate going back into a restaurant kitchen…well, it just seemed too hard to achieve. "As for Arthen," Roy continued, "he was in the infantry. Right out of school. He's mustered out of the service and is going to apprentice under his uncle as a luthier—he's a guitarist and now he'll learn to make instruments." He carefully filled his coffee press with hot water from the kettle, stirred the brew, and positioned the plunger. "Three minutes. And the coffee is quite superior to the swill back at our office. Now," he touched the arm of his chair before seating himself, " unless I've missed my guess you're standing there with a remarkably idiotic look on your face. Am I right?"

Ed shifted uneasily. "Don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"I think you do."

"Bullshit."

"About..oh, let's see—was it only four or five years ago? I believe I arrived by donkey cart. Hellishly uncomfortable after riding thirteen hours on a train in second class coach. I arrived at the workshop of Dr. Pinako Rockbell to meet a catatonic cripple in a wheelchair. Completely unresponsive, even when I dragged him out of the chair by his collar and screamed in his face."

"Shut up, Mustang!"

"His brother had lost everything, even his body—but he pushed the boy's chair, fed him, dressed him…may have even wiped his ass for him, although brotherly love might not stretch that far—"

Ed clenched his teeth. "Damn you! There's no comparison! You still don't get it, do you? I lost my mom—I lost Al—"

"I lost Maes." Roy's face became serious. "Havoc nearly died and was paralyzed from the waist down. Hawkeye was threatened by Pride and had her throat cut. She could have died. I gave my soul to my country—to serve a government that proved corrupt beyond any in human history. And sometimes the only thing I can hear in my dreams are the screams and curses of the people I incinerated. When this war, this bloody war that started in Xerxes so long ago—when it was over, Al got his body back. You had your limbs. But the lights never came on again for me. Do you think," his fingers tightened along the arms of his chair, "for one damn minute that I didn't want to curl up somewhere with a bottle and drink myself to death, just drown out all my sins, wash away all the tears I've caused? That," he rose abruptly, "would have been easy. But I'm proud to say that Chris Mustang didn't raise that kind of boy. And neither did Trisha Elric."

Deftly, he pressed down the plunger on the coffee press, felt for a cup, filled it carefully with aromatic brew. "Two sugars?"

"Yeah."

"Here. And try the ginger cakes."

"Thanks." Ed munched in uncomfortable silence. After awhile, he spoke up. "Takes guts to start your life over again."

"No. It's not starting over. Nothing ended. As Kellar says, all that changes is our point of view. I'm here to learn new skills, not to learn how to 'cope'. And you know what, Ed? It's good. I haven't laughed so hard since before Isbal, not since Maes and I were young together. I've made three good friends I intend to keep. Kellar's even talking about a rock climbing trip this autumn. Been awhile since I've done anything like that but I'm looking forward to it. Now, if I can climb a rock face—and make an edible loaf of bread—who's to say I can't be an alchemist again? And Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"If you had any idiotic ideas about being my nurse or caregiver, you can leave tonight."

Ed smiled slowly, remembering Roy's words all those years ago in Resmbool…"..a self pitying cripple, or--?'

Or a Dog of the Millitary.

"Your eyes weren't empty, Fullmetal. They were burning."

Roy's eyes were empty. But inside, he was on fire. "I've never seen any student so motivated," Kellar had written. "Every challenge he meets, each new skill he needs to master—whether it's learning to read Braille or walk unaccompanied or even making his own coffee. I've moved him to a private class with two of my best adult students so he will learn faster. All three of them have something in common: they refuse to be held back by what they've lost. All they can think about is the future.

Caregiver? Nurse? Like hell. "I'll kick your ass before I wipe it, Mustang. And from now on, you make the coffee!"

…TO BE CONTINUED….