Disclaimer: Not mine now nor has it ever been.
Author's Note: I had this plot bunny pestering me for quite a while. So when I got frustrated with LC, I decided to mess with it. For all my LC fans sorry and I'm revising it again. (And again, and again…)
I also tried my hand at 3rd person perspective – it is surprisingly difficult.
I love reviews if you have a moment to spare.
Lastly, and as always, I use a mixture of canon from the manga and both anime versions (minus the endings because that just doesn't for my fics at all). Then I take that canon and make up whatever the hell I want. Mostly, I'm happy if I'm sort of in character.
End of Your Career
The bustling noise of the waiting room was unable to distract Roy from his thoughts. No matter how much he tried to focus on the whiny cries of children or the obnoxiously loud woman arguing with the hospital staff, his mind was focused on a singular event.
He rubbed his tired eyes and shifted in his seat trying to find some comfortable spot on the worn wooden bench. You'd think being a General would have gotten him a better place to wait. No, that stubborn bastard Knox refused to give special treatment to any military staff.
Roy laughed at himself.
Stubborn Bastard
He stopped himself from visibly sagging his shoulders in defeat. There was no doubt – everything circled back to this afternoon.
At 1315 hours when the prison alarm sounded.
Roy's staff was usually laid back when it came to official duties. He often allowed smoking, newspaper reading, and dog sitting during working hours. The prime reason behind this was to discourage anyone under his command to question his lack luster efforts.
After all in for a penny; in for a pound.
And Roy's staff was tumbling into debt.
But when the Central Prison alarm sounded, Roy and his men – well one woman – were ready to respond including the "newest" edition to his staff, Edward "Ed" Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. A fearsome, alchemist with limitless potential despite his small five foot frame.
There was no point in stating Ed's rank – Ed didn't care about it. Roy often wondered if Ed knew what his rank was, but that was what defined Ed. The military was based on strict rules and discipline. A system entirely dependent upon the issuing and acceptance of orders. No questions asked – only duties carried out. Ed took one look at the system and turned it on its head.
The required uniform? Ed refused to wear it. To support his blatant refusal, he claimed that he couldn't button up the shirt or jacket – his automail right hand wasn't that dexterous.
Obedience to rank? The only person Ed was ever obedient to was a rather frightening woman named Izumi Curtis. She easily outdid Roy's scary subordinate Lieutenant Hawkeye in terms of sheer terror. According to both Elric brothers, Izumi once killed a bear with her bare hands and Roy believed it. Hell, he believed the slender, dark haired woman had probably ripped the bear's limbs off to make suitably sized portions for roasting.
The acceptance of orders? There wasn't an order in existence that Ed hadn't tried to bargain his way out of or escape from. And if both of those tactics failed, Ed rang up the price tag associated with the task before he did it. Roy often found himself blackmailing Ed just to get simple orders carried out. Either that or giving secrets to the boy Roy had held for years.
And lastly, Ed even denied conformity. In a military that was a sea of blues, Ed had arrived in a garish red coat. Even to this day, that ever present, blindly bright coat adorned Ed's shoulders.
All in all, Ed was the antithesis of all things military. But what made Ed "new" again to his staff was the gaping hole in Ed's service record. While Ed may have signed up for military service at the tender age of 12, around 16 years old Ed disappeared. Not literally of course, but his attendance was nonexistent. Once the coup against Fuhrer King Bradley was successful, Ed went in search of his ultimate goal – to retrieve both his younger brother, Al's, and his original body lost during the failed human transmutation of their mother. The smoke had barely cleared before Ed and Al, a seven foot tall suit of armor at the time, vanished.
Ed had effectively abandoned his military post without as much as a farewell. And yet, Roy continued to fill out excuse after excuse for Ed in writing for two years concealing the blonde's AWOL status.
Ed returned to the military with half-met success. Al was back in his original body, but Ed was not. That was all Ed would say about it. Roy hadn't pushed him further. The clear, unspoken answer was present in Ed's still too wide golden eyes – Ed couldn't do it. Ed never took defeat well and this fact had surely hurt him deeply.
And Roy had understood.
Ed had returned to work with a slightly different attitude. He was more willing to cooperate and his amazingly extensive vocabulary in cursing was curtailed. His handwriting was still illegible, but the content of the writing had improved greatly. He didn't have to come into the office every day, but called in regularly to give updates on his location.
On the days Ed came into the office, he had taken to sharing a desk with Master Sergeant Fuery. Since the majority of Ed's work required him to be away from the office as well as the Master Sergeant's duties, Roy never bothered to get Ed a desk. It would only take up precious space in the already too small office and the two got along well enough to share.
But this afternoon Ed was in the office.
Ed was there to hear the alarm instead of being safely tucked away in some forgotten portion of the library happily buried in a pile of books.
And just like everyone else, he had responded to the call for all personnel to recapture the prisoner, the former Clout Alchemist, Michael Hart. Nicknamed the "Bone Crusher" due to his ability to alter the density of objects. Roy had seen his work in action. People slowly crushed to death under their own weight – like a paperweight was dropped on them from somewhere up above.
Or perhaps a more apt comparison was an unseen shoe squashing a rather fat bug. The mess left behind was certainly similar.
But in a sick way, the military appreciated the mess. Psychological warfare was more deadly and the impact of a few key "crushed" individuals always made the necessary statement. No one wanted to die like that – hell, no one wanted to see that.
Except perhaps the Crusher.
Together the Crusher and the Crimson Alchemist wrought unending terror during the Ishbalan war. Not only by what they did, but by the simple fact that they enjoyed it. Where alchemists like Roy averted their eyes from the screams and, in Roy's case, the sight of burning flesh, the Crusher watched – no, stared in rapt fascination. A look of absolute pleasure crossing his hard features when the splatter flew far enough to dirty his uniform.
With such a danger running free once more, everyone was on edge. A false move meant death – severe injury if you were lucky. Roy ordered his men to search for the Crusher but not to advance. Any altercation with the Crusher would require the presence of a State Alchemist – it was the only chance anyone had against him.
The search went on for about 40 minutes before someone found the Crusher. And that someone was none other than Ed. The fight created a wild display of flashing light as Ed undoubtedly struggled with long-range, alchemical combat. The Crusher had a 50 yard kill-zone radius. Roy had warned Ed in advance not to get close to the Crusher since Ed's specialty had always been short-range, close combat. If Ed got too close... Roy feared even with Ed's unsurpassed abilities he wouldn't escape this time.
Roy had moved as fast as he could. The rising panic in his chest shortening his breath as the pacing between the flashes of light grew ever further apart. His fear demanding an answer from his nagging doubt, 'What if you aren't fast enough?'
What if you aren't there in time to save him?
What if he lost?
After all, Roy's specialty was long-range combat, making him a perfect opponent for the Crusher. One snap and a building 100s of yards away exploded. But Ed... Ed always, always closed in on his opponents.
When Roy reached the site, he saw the Crusher pinned down by an odd extension from a nearby building. Given the shape it was probably a hand with its fingers dug so deeply into the ground that only the barest hint of their knuckles was left.
Clearly Ed's work.
An overwhelming sense of relief flooded through Roy so fast, he was forced to his knees. The long ignored burning sensation in his lungs sending him into a fit of dry coughing. He surveyed the scene of broken buildings and remnants of failed or broken alchemical attempts to capture the Crusher searching for Ed's blazing red coat.
It took only a few seconds, but the feeling of time was lost to Roy. The time lag between arrival at the scene to surveying the scene to locating Ed lingered. Almost as if someone was taking photographs of time – moments frozen then developed before the next could pass.
Ed wasn't far away. He was sitting on the ground leaning against a building in an alleyway. The last building in the row from where the Crusher was left pinned and well within the prohibited 50 yards. His slumped posture an indication that this wasn't a total victory. Roy stumbled to stand up, but refused to crawl. Ignoring the protest in his heaving chest, he worked his way through the debris to check on Ed. His voice dry and lined with worry he didn't mean to convey, "Ed?"
The face that had been concealed by long, blonde bangs turned at the name. Ed looked back at Roy in a state of shock. Those wide golden eyes fixed onto something far from the commanding officer before them.
It was then that Roy saw how close Ed's defeat had been.
Knox's raspy baritone broke Roy from the scene played out in his thoughts. A thick, heavy hand gripped his shoulder, "Roy?"
Roy tried to look composed. To show only the ever career-minded solider he was believed to be. But at that moment, with the picture of Ed's stricken face still clear in his mind, Roy couldn't do it. He knew what Knox saw. The picture of a man terrified beyond all comprehension.
At the proposition of a few spoken words.
Taking a page from Ed's book, Roy turned away and hung his head. He didn't have the luxury of long bangs to hide his face, but his dark, short cropped hair hung low enough to conceal his eyes.
It was enough for now.
Knox let out a small laugh, "He's fine. Rather banged up, but the kid's bounced back from worse."
The tension bunching knots into Roy's shoulders released leaving him feeling strangely loose. His eyes still concealed, "Can I see him?"
"If he's awake. He's in room 140 at the end of the hall on the left. I've got other patients to attend to."
Roy nodded not trusting his voice and stood up.
Ed had always been small. A fact that Ed himself hated quite dearly. He was always desperate to grow up.
Ed lied on his side facing away from the door barely filling the standard sized hospital bed. 'How many times? How many times have you found him like this,' Roy traitorous mind accused him sharply. 'Aren't you supposed to protect him?'
I know. I know.
Roy moved into the room to sit lightly at the edge of Ed's bed. The boy... no, he wasn't a child anymore. Roy supposed man would be more appropriate but that didn't fit Ed. Those wide, untainted golden eyes of his forever invoking a sense of innocence that no adult could possess. For a moment Roy listened to Ed's soft steady breath. Assurance that he was alive. The fear, the worry from moments ago vanished in an instant – as if they never existed at all.
Roy's hand seemed to move on its own – disconnected from any rational thought in his mind. It reached out to barely brush against the too-long bangs that framed Ed's face. All so Roy could unveil the placid look of rest that consumed on Ed's features. Ed could always sleep fitfully anywhere undisturbed.
Roy withdrew that hand.
He let out a near silent sigh and tried to reign in a dangerously fast growing feeling. A feeling Roy had been trying to kill for a long time now. Roy called himself every manner of name he could think of. Ed was a child. A child his twisted sense of attraction chose to notice. Oh, Roy had noticed. About half way into Ed's fifteenth year, he began to mature. By the time the coup was successfully completed, Ed seemed to be all grown up. His height was unchanged, but his shoulders broadened, his voice deepened, and his features sharpened as the rounded resemblance of childhood faded away.
And Roy cursed himself.
Roy had always had rotten luck. People around him thought he was some sort of "Golden Boy" with his drastic and fast paced climb through the military ranks. And how many men attained the rank of Lieutenant Colonel at age 29? Or General by 30? Roy had long acknowledged that professionally he was blessed.
His personal life was cursed.
If there was ever anything he desired for himself – and just for himself – it was unattainable. All the things that everyone else took for granted in their lives were a struggle for Roy. This lingering bad luck made itself most apparent in his rather pathetic love life. Sure, to all of Central he was quite the ladies' man and, to be openly honest, Roy could snag any girl he wanted. The problem lied in the fact that there was very little he wanted from women. They were distractions from his failures – a momentary intrigue and then nothing more.
It was men that gave Roy trouble.
His first "head over heels" crush was over a boy named Victor when Roy was only thirteen. It lasted about 6 months before his father realized that his youngest son wasn't quite "right". The tried and true method for correcting these aberrant behaviors was to deposit the "sick" boy into the military's lap. The military would always fix him away and unseen from his disappointed parents. Roy never even worked up the courage to tell Victor about his feelings. His boyhood friend never knew.
In a peculiar sort of way, his father was right. His enrollment in the military academy meant that he had to move to Central and, due to his age, he was appointed a guardian; his father's licentious sister Chris. Aunt Chris, or Madame Christmas as she was better known, had been the black sheep of the family for years due to her "wild" behavior. However, as the years passed and she dramatically gained weight, Aunt Chris became more of a sage-like figure for the young and ill-informed. It was from her that Roy learned his most valuable lesson, how to fake normal heterosexual behaviors. How to disguise the truth so no one would ever know.
In the military academy and later alchemical training, Roy excelled until he met his next personal obstacle. Maes Hughes. A man he managed to confess to. Maes had taken the confession in stride. After patiently listening to Roy's half-murmured declaration, those peridot eyes looked away from Roy as Maes' sturdy jaw set. An act that made the answer all too clear. They agreed to never discuss it again. Effectively terminating the problem or so Maes thought. Roy had simply kept quiet.
They had remained friends. Even to the point where Roy was the best man at Maes' wedding. A self-depreciating act that had taken more out of Roy than he wanted to admit. He could still feel the wire taut pull of his jaw as he forced a smile to his face as the groom professed his vow of unending love to his bride. The taste of well-aged whiskey numbing his senses enough to play the part his Aunt taught him so well during the reception – flirting with every bride's maid in the room.
But he had loved Maes enough to suffer through it. Enough to celebrate his daughter's birth and sit through the endless parade of happy family photographs that Maes insisted on sharing. Enough to smile and laugh away Maes' belief that getting a wife would cure Roy's ails. To grin knowing that his ruse was bought by the entire Hughes household.
He had loved Maes up to the day of his death and beyond.
Until a small, hot-headed blonde matured and turned Roy's head again. Roy knew what he felt and tried to kill it ruthlessly. He wouldn't survive another Maes. Going through that once was painful enough. So, he increased the frequency of his dates with women. Tried his best to remain personally unapproachable and ignored Ed's internal struggles. Above all, he ensured that Ed received at least one insult for every visit he made.
He did everything he knew to irritate Ed.
All so Ed would hate him.
Roy's heart may be foolish, but if Ed despised him then all opportunity was destroyed. It worked. Roy detested every spoken word, but it worked. Ed routinely called him a "bastard", reminded Roy that he was "old", and even said that he hated Roy. Every word digging small graves for pieces of his affection – empty graves.
Roy even tried to find someone, anyone, to replace the feelings that had taken root.
It all failed.
So Roy worried himself stupid when Ed involved himself in near-death battles. He drank himself into dreamless nights. He had officers calling in from every train station, city post, or military command complex he knew of just so he could get an update on Ed and ease the sharp constriction of the unknown. Even during Ed's two year disappearing act, Roy had kept careful surveillance.
All the while reminding himself that he shouldn't do this. He can't do this to himself again. But he would over and over again.
Just like today. He had nearly passed out on an active battlefield when he knew Ed won. He didn't even bother to secure the Crusher. And when Roy saw Ed injured... Roy stopped thinking.
He grabbed Ed and went straight to Knox.
The only thought in his head was to get Ed medical attention.
To care for the one person who hated Roy more than anything – the one person... Roy turned from his thoughts to look at the sleeping blonde once more. Knox had warned him that Ed would be unconscious.
He's out cold.
He won't notice.
Roy leaned over Ed to indulge in his desires. Just once. He pressed a soft kiss to Ed's left temple veering himself off more dangerous paths before he turned to go.
Roy's personal life was always cursed.
"Mmm... who?"
An icy bolt raced down Roy's spine chilling his entire body and setting his posture ramrod straight. Oh shit. Clearing his throat to ease his stiff body, Roy shifted slightly in his spot on the edge of the bed, "It's me, Fullmetal."
No personal names – just business.
Ed rolled over onto his back clearing away the haze of medically administered, drug-induced sleep. For a moment, Ed could have sworn... but only the General was here. He focused his blurry eyes on the man before him. Ed hated that his heart's resting rhythm was rising quickly as those dark eyes looked down at him. He hated that the one man who took unadulterated pleasure in mocking Ed was the very man Ed had fallen for.
He had tried to reason with himself. The obstacles to such a relationship were so easy to see. Roy was 14 years older than Ed. Ed was Roy's subordinate. Roy made it his personal pleasure to mock Ed at every turn. Roy was the poster boy for womanizers everywhere. But all the reason in the world wasn't enough to sway Ed's clearly idiotic heart.
Ed cursed at himself. He should be used to this! How many times has Roy looked down at him?
The image of Roy seated behind his desk came unbidden to Ed's mind. Roy's chin resting on interlaced fingers – leaning forward on his desk. Those dark, dark eyes seeing through Ed's every movement, gesture or comment. Ed had sat in Roy's office so many times stuck on the receiving end of that omnipotent stare that it left Ed in a permanent state of unrest. From the moment he walked in, Ed's entire body was bubbling with energy. The need to run, to grind the toe of his boots into the floor, to wring his hands together, to do anything plagued him in only that office.
Then came the commentary. What did Ed blow up this time? How many blocks? What was the cost of repairs? Type this report – no one can read it. Oh, where did you go? You're so small that I can't see you over my desk.
Ugh!
It wasn't enough that all Roy saw in Ed was a child in need of discipline... and even then! It didn't matter how hard Ed tried to show improvement. All Ed ever received from Roy was a snarky comment. Roy never gave him a single ounce of praise. The only reason Ed continued to respond to Roy's commentary in dramatic outbursts was to cover up the horrible, gut wrenching feeling in his stomach.
Like a sucker punch to the face.
But now, Roy had to look worried. That irritating bastard just had to show some concern.
How? How could he?
"Just you?"
Roy felt the bite of Ed's words. "You didn't look so good. I was checking up."
Ed wanted to scoff at Roy's lame reply. He knew that he'd done worse to himself. "No biggie. Just a knock to the head." Ed pushed himself to sit up. He winced. Okay, so a bump to the head and a bruised shoulder.
"No 'biggie' huh?" The sarcasm in Roy's voice hurting Ed worse than any physical injury.
Ed looked away. Why? Why did Roy have this effect on him? Ed wanted to yell at Roy to leave. He wanted to give Roy a solid punch to the gut with his right hand just... just to relieve this frustrating feeling. To pass on this pain.
Moments of time began to stack up and grow into an extended, uncomfortable silence. Ed turned back to look at Roy who was still sitting there. Not talking – just staring at him. Those near pitch-black eyes fixed with an unnerving sense of… of something Ed couldn't place. Quite frankly, the General's beyond weird behavior had him wondering which one of them was actually a patient. Unable to take it any longer, "So?"
Roy blinked and looked back at Ed. Somewhere along the way he had trailed off into the bliss of knowing that Ed would be all right. If Ed felt well enough to be pissy and overconfident, then everything was okay.
Ed rolled his eyes and reiterated, "So?" Really, Ed was the one who hit his head.
"What?"
Ed felt that uncomfortable feeling give way to rising irritation. But anger was good. It quashed all other feelings and that always made things between them easier to deal with. "I'm up and talking. Why are you still here?"
Good question. Roy didn't know the answer himself.
Ed watched as Roy remained quiet and still just sat there. Fully agitated by this weird behavior, he decided to end this odd interaction. He spat out, "Whatever. Just go." He didn't want to deal with whatever had the General in such an odd state.
Roy's expression fell into the realm of noticeable pity. He hadn't meant to upset the injured blonde, but given their history Roy supposed he shouldn't be surprised. He'd stayed too long. "Rest up." As Roy spoke those two parting words, that traitorous sentient hand of his moved to brush the away the bangs from the left side of Ed's face as his touch lingered at Ed's jaw.
All before Roy had a chance to stand and leave.
For a moment they both stared at each other – neither believing that the small gesture had occurred. Roy in shock at his own actions and Ed in shock at the unbelievably personal touch.
Neither knew what do to next.
Time stretched and Roy had yet to remove his hand.
Roy's thoughts reminded him – in for a penny; in for a pound. He couldn't deny himself forever. Too many long hours spent worrying over Ed, of wondering where Ed would be next, of berating himself over his feelings...
Too many hours spent with bottle in hand pretending that it all didn't hurt.
Roy had built Ed's hate so what would one more act do?
Roy leaned in towards Ed to give into his earlier derailed desires. Using his left hand as a brace, he leaned over the momentarily stunned blonde. He had to act quickly or the moment would pass – like a limited time offer. Roy smirked at the thought. An act that earned him the sight of Ed's eyes widening almost impossibly further. Ed could always piece things together quickly. Roy only wondered if it would be for his benefit.
As gently as he could, Roy placed the barest of brushes against Ed's lips. A soft caress that lingered in a way something more forceful could never convey. A pleasant impression surviving long after the touch is broken. He wanted to give Ed time to... to consider this unspoken proposition. Slowly, Roy's calm, steady breath faltered.
No resistance. No screaming. No all-out tirade that the blonde was apt to throw. Just passive – quiet even – acceptance.
How like Ed to take his expectations and flip them upside down.
Wasting no further time, Roy moved in to heighten his tentative touch. That traitorous right hand, useful for once, moved to cradle the back of Ed's neck rubbing small, reassuring circles. Moving carefully to avoid touching one of Ed's injuries, Roy pressed firmly against Ed's waiting mouth. One touch wasn't enough. Roy's long withheld desire broke his tentative hold on rational thought. The knowledge of how everything in this situation needed to end now was drowned out. The driving need for more was pushing him – demanding more of an answer from Ed.
An answer Ed finally gave. He had been left in a state of shock – torn between a burst of joy that his feelings were no longer one sided and the pure terror of not knowing what the hell to do. That, and a small part of him wondered if this was all some crazy dream brought on by his head trauma. But it wasn't – it was real. Roy had made the first move, which left Ed fumbling to catch up. So he dropped the ball a bit for contemplation. Ed wanted to ask why... why now? Why him? When the gentle pressure from Roy lips shifted into a demand. Setting aside his ever-present inquisitiveness, Ed leaned in adding his own response to Roy's kiss. The reaction was unexpected. Like an explosive catalyst.
Ed's response was all Roy needed. That small reply to his efforts sent a pleasant warm ache to his lower body as rational thought gave its final death throes. He broke their chaste kiss only to return with increased fervor. Roy parted his lips to run a questing a tongue against Ed's sealed mouth – impatiently wanting more from the smaller blonde.
Ed closed his eyes as he eagerly permitted Roy's tongue entrance as it swept across his lower lip. Allowing Roy to take control while Ed followed his commanding officer just this one time. Roy moved his head to gain better access to the willing mouth before him. He explored Ed's mouth, moving against Ed's tongue – twining the two slick organs together. Feeling a dizzying rush, when Ed responded by entering his own. The bold move earned Ed a deep groan from the older man. A sound Ed soon echoed when Roy began to suck on Ed's invading tongue.
Roy couldn't keep his hands idle. His right hand had moved up to free Ed's messy ponytail. Free to comb through the loose golden strands. His left hand held Ed's right hip – keeping the blonde against him. The cold touch of metal occasionally brushing over it.
It was impossibly good.
The soft sounds of gasps and shortened breaths filled the room.
Ed was so willing – so eager. He learned and reciprocated actions so quickly it left Roy wanting – needing more.
A cold realization struck Roy. Ed was so willing. Most likely unaware of where such passion could take him. Roy broke their kiss. His breath ragged. His body begging him not to give up the lovely, willing blonde in his grasp.
He looked at Ed who seemed surprised and unsure. Those wide golden eyes studying his every movement carefully.
Roy leaned in to press a soft chaste kiss. An apology of sorts he supposed. He knew he should have never taken things so far, so fast with Ed. Everything had just… it didn't matter. Reluctantly, he pushed Ed back to his former spot on the bed and turned to leave.
He knew that he had crossed a dangerous line – a temptation so great it had been worth it even if it was only for a moment. He never expected Ed would be willing. He had expected the angry glare, a punch to the gut, the blonde shouting at a volume that left his ears ringing, but not acceptance. The sight of Ed's unfocused eyes, his reddened cheeks, and his chest panting for breath made Roy ache. But he wouldn't turn back. Roy doubted that Ed would understand his conflicting desires.
He knew above all else he had to protect Ed. Even if that meant protecting Ed from himself.
"What was that?"
Ed's fierce tone broke Roy thoughts. It never ceased to amaze Roy how quickly Ed could zip from one emotion to the next. It's because he's young. Roy tried to neutralize his voice into its normal, steady, almost bored tone, "Something that shouldn't have happened." Dammit all if he wasn't nearly as successful as he had hoped.
Unwittingly, Roy turned to see unguarded disappointment. Ed's pale brows furrowed in a sense of worry – that so delightful mouth pulled into a small frown.
Ed was reeling. One moment Roy was fulfilling some of Ed's more tasteful fantasies and the next Roy was ready to walk away as if it never happened. As if the time between now and the previous awkward silence was merely a daydream of his.
How could Roy kiss him like that and then just walk away?
"Why?" The softened look of rejection had retreated making way for Ed's normally aggressive personality to takeover.
Roy was genuinely surprised. While Ed was a rather assertive person, he consistently withdrew from social complications. Something about personal human interactions staved off his ferocity. He never did this. He never pushed something this intimate.
"Why, dammit! Answer me." Ed tone rose to a harsh demand as faint traces of pink grew on his cheeks. He didn't understand – a fact that left him on shaky ground. He always hated being unsure and his only way out was to push forward. He would grasp for any answer. Anything other than the piss-poor excuse he had been given. "'Shouldn't have happened' my ass. How can you go from... that to walking away."
It had been a long time since Roy felt trapped. If he told Ed the truth the blonde was likely to beat him black and blue. Then insist that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Ed always acted as if he could handle everything. If he lied... he'd lie. "You deserve better."
Once again, both were left in a state of surprise.
Roy could hardly believe what escaped his thoughts. That... that wasn't what he meant to say. Time for damage control, "Besides I really am an old man compared to you and you're my subordinate." Roy's well engrained behavior pattern added a small fake laugh at his obvious joke, "That's why I shouldn't have."
Those golden eyes narrowed dangerously into an unspoken threat. Ed pressed his lips together tightly then abruptly turned his head to look away from Roy. He couldn't risk Roy seeing his fury dissipate. Harsh words and flippant banter suited their existing relationship but this… this was new. And Ed wasn't dull-witted enough to believe a weak lie – even when it was piled high and deep with a number of equally weak excuses.
The image of appalled peridot eyes overlapped the sight of Ed's wounded fury. Roy couldn't believe the personal irony. Then when Ed whipped his head away so fast that he unwittingly tossed a good portion of thick, golden hair over his shoulder, Roy knew that it was over. Whatever small chance fate had oddly left open for him, Roy had destroyed. And wasn't that his goal all along? But that was when he was confident that Ed would never return his feelings.
Was he ever confident about Ed? History hadn't sided in his favor.
No, it was over – done. Roy turned to leave, convinced that this had ended. The muted sound of slow moving boots snapped Ed's from his hesitation. Thinking things out in active situations was never really his forte. Was Roy really going to just go? "You... you're the only person who knows my sins but still thinks I deserve better."
Roy was halted at the door. Of course the little genius would toss out the petty excuses and narrow in on the truth of it all.
Seeing Roy's abrupt halt at the door spurned Ed on. He swallowed a knot that threatened to squeeze off his ability to speak. "I know you've done stuff. A lot of things you regret, but I... I don't care about that."
A dark feeling gripped Roy holding him still. The words formed so easily in his mind. Those biting, hurtful words that would forever end whatever he had so stupidly started. Roy let out a deep sigh. He could end this – even if Ed kept leaving openings Roy knew that he could effectively terminate all chance at revival. Just turn on Ed. Shout at him, call him a naïve little child who could never understand... wound Ed's pride so deeply he would never speak about this again. But he… he couldn't do it. Without a doubt it was the right thing to do. To crush the revelation of mutual attraction.
But this was a first for Roy too. Never before had he confessed his feelings and had the other respond positively. He desperately wanted to take what was clearly being offered.
No.
This cannot happen.
One small mistake here is all that Roy would allow. No matter how much he wanted this.
He sent his eyes firmly on the dull brass door knob that was just moments away. Forcing his body forward, he moved until his hand grasped the cool metal. He couldn't turn to look at Ed. He knew that the moment he did his resolve to leave this room would crumble. The picture clearly in his mind was doing damage enough. Those wounded golden eyes fixed at his back set against that all too expressive face. "Rest Fullmetal. I'll send Hawkeye to take your report tomorrow."
Ed stared at Roy's back in disbelief. How could… why? He tightened his hands in fists as the urge to lash out at surged through his mind. He knew this desperate feeling and cursed its existence. He had thrown out those words because he was scared. He didn't want Roy to leave – not after this.
Not when it seemed that something he thought he could never have was right within his reach.
A slight squeak from well used hinges announced that the door opened shattering whatever might have been.