A/N: ANOTHER ONE-SHOT SUPPLIED BY MY IPOD. :DDDDD

And guess what, it's a EdxRoy fic that it chose! Lucky me~ Anyway, this fic would be centered more around the lyrics of the beginning of the song by MCR than the title of the song.

Warnings: Minor swearing, guyxguy (shonen-ai), HughesxRoy bashing, canon AND non-canon character death, minor sexual references

Wow, that's a lot of warnings. … :I Well, I guess that's what happens when you write a fic about Roy. *shrug*

Alright, I'll leave you to it. :)

Welcome to the Black Parade

Roy found he could settle his riled nerves when he drank coffee. He drank it in the mornings when he wasn't really awake yet, he drank it at work to wake up even more so as to stay alert for Hawkeye's gun, and sometimes he drank it at lunch because, really, he wasn't too keen of water no matter what his alchemy could do with it and that included the disgusting substance bottled. He drank it at night when he had to stay awake for his work and even had an espresso when he decided to reward himself at a café at lunch every now and then.

But sometimes, he drank his substitution for alcohol because he was in a mood that no amount of concentration-or lack thereof-could fix. Like right now, on the anniversary of the death of the most important person in his life.

He used to think he could handle himself if Hughes died. Hell, he used to wish a painful and long death upon the man once upon a time. But after the raven-haired, shit-eating grin-faced man had passed away Roy was fully intent on drinking himself silly until he joined his deceased friend. He never knew why he cared so much for Hughes-he was only friends and many people so wrongly assumed they had experimented in the past. For the love of all that was not damned (like Roy believed himself to be), he and Hughes were only friends.

Hawkeye was there to help him not attempt suicide for the umpteenth time, as she always was. She really took her commitment to heart. Sometimes it annoyed Roy, but he appreciated her concern, wholly and truly.

It had taken fate almost a decade to kill the next person who had another slice of the pie of his friendship. It took all the Elric brothers had to not cry at Riza Hawkeye's untimely funeral at the relatively young age of thirty-six. She had been shot at her own wedding, to which she was to be wed to the next best sharp-shooter in his team, Jean Havoc. How ironic.

Many blamed Jean for her death but it was nearly impossible. Riza had done nothing to Jean in his lifetime and loved the man even more once they had professed their love for each other. There was no way in Hell that he had even planned her death, let alone kill her himself.

Roy's gloves made sure of that.

Oh, no, he didn't kill Jean…nor Riza, for that matter. He just threatened the man with flames and the muscular blonde pissed his pants and told all of his deepest, darkest secrets which weren't so…dark and deep as Roy's are. Roy pressed the man for any hint of planning Riza's death but Jean shrugged and said his confinement to a wheelchair had left him out of all the loops for the time being. He had never taken special training and wasn't exactly the stealthiest man in the military. So Roy threw him out of the picture.

But as the days, weeks, months passed on, Roy started focusing less on one blonde and more on another. He completely abandoned his quest to fill every source of Mother Nature with his seed and in turn tried to find a way to confess to…you could say, Father Earth.

People would claim he was a pedophile, but Roy didn't really care much for what other people said. Then again, "Father Earth" wasn't exactly an appropriate name for his target of admiration when it really belonged to this person's father. But Roy digressed!

He was called many things, anyway. Didn't really matter what Roy called him now.

"Brat."

"Pipsqueak."

"The Hero of the People."

"The Fullmetal Alchemist."

"Edward Elric."

"Edward."

"Ed."

Roy liked to believe he was doing some sort of poetic justice here with his attraction. As Juliet stated in Act 2, Scene 2 of the play "The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet", what is a name? It is neither a head nor a foot, so I might as well cast it away. Why must you live by something that was never unique to you to begin with? Just because he was the "Flame Alchemist" doesn't mean he also had to be the womanizer that everyone thought he was.

So in case you ignoramuses didn't notice, as Roy would say to a reader of his autobiography if he ever got around to it, he was head over heels for his short, blonde, half-metal subordinate who, by medical records, went by the name of Edward Elric.

:~ ~:

"Roy, you need to let it go."

"Edward, I would believe that to be an impossibility at the moment-"

"Don't pull that soldier crap on me. You're moody and brooding over Hughes and Hawkeye's deaths and won't let go of it now simply to annoy me."

"What of it?"

"Heh, I believe there is something called a…hm, what was it? Ah, a couch."

Roy blanched.

"Oh, I think you have one of those in your house. Several, actually~"

Roy bit his lip, "Dammit, okay, alright, I'll let it go. What do you want me to do, master?"

Edward smirked and laid his head back on the cushiony, white pillow and settled the back of his head on his crossed arms, "Don't call me that or else I might just jump you…"

"Now, now, I wouldn't completely object to that…"

Edward turned his head to smirk at the raven-haired man, "And your eyes are black."

"Please! They are black and have no color!"

"Says the strongest alchemist in the country," Edward scoffed, "They are a very dark, beautiful blue. Who is the one who's stared into them countless times? Oh, wait, excuse ME! It's you, you narcissistic, controlling bastard!"

Roy sneered at the blonde and went to staring back up at the ceiling, "So even though you top me every night you still don't believe you're the dominant one in the relationship?"

"Please! You and your sarcastic comments and domineering bastardly ways obviously make you a natural topper! I'm just the best at what I do and you know it, Mr. Ha-Ha-Ha-I-Have-Experience!"

Roy blushed at what Edward was rather blatantly hinting at and turned away, "Hmph."

:~ ~:

So was it really a surprise to Roy that he was considering his own death by now? He knew that the shock of his lifelong partner's death not a decade after Hawkeye's was reasonable and the grief was expected, but surprise at how deep a sorrowful grave he had dug himself this time? That thought was what had creeped him out to no end.

He held a knife in his hand. He was contemplating why he hadn't died in his thirties like the three people closest to him at the moment.

"Stand strong."

"No!" Roy shouted, clamping his hands around his head and bending over. Ed's voice was echoing in his head again…!

"Roy, when I'm gone, you can't act broken, beaten, and damned! Stand strong!"

"I can't handle that!"

"Yes, you can!"

"Ed, get out of my THOUGHTS," Roy hissed, thinking the orders would work, "Get out of my MEMORIES!" But alas, he never did.

"Whenever I die, you'll join me soon," Ed titled his head to the side and grinned at his lover, "So don't follow me so quickly. I'll wait."

"If you'd have told me earlier we could have cured this!" the raven-haired man was practically screeching at this point.

Ed simply shook his head, "It's my time to go, not yours. If you had tried to cure me you would have caught it, too."

"This is no time for innuendos-"

Ed put a hand up to silence him, "I always told you that you have no self-control. I meant it."

"E-HHHH-D!" Roy started sobbing and put his head in his hands. The knife clattered to the tiled floor, the sudden noise drowned out by his desperate cries.

"Welcome to reality, Roy. Now, I'll give you a choice to live it."

His last words.

A/N: Cod dangit, those last words almost made me cry.

Anyway, if I need to work on my one-shot writing skills, or you want to tell me how AWESOME this fic was (HAAHALOLOOOOL) then feel free to review! :D