Warning, there's a bit of language in this chapter. Never mind a bit, like, there's a whole crap ton of f-bombs and other words in this chapter. Plus some graphic-ish images.

ChibiestMoon: Well, I hope I continue to live up to your praise! Dunno what you'll think of this chapter, though.

PrincessChiChi99: I feel like this chapter is as emotional as the last, though almost definitely not in the same way.

Attackoneverything: Damn, you are EVERYWHERE! I'm 99% sure that you review on anything FMA that I write. So thanks for that!

Here Strikes Dawn: I'm glad you liked it! It took a lot of effort to write a story as good as anything you've written. I'm also happy you liked the last line. My sister took one look at it and her heart melted too, lol. Also, do you have any idea what's up with the notifications on Look Before You Listen? Because I swear I've pressed the follow button on your story like five times, but it never notifies me when you upload a new chapter. Craziness. Now I must go read aforementioned new chapter.


Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of the characters within.


Roy awoke with cold sweat coating his body. Enough that the sheets, blankets, and the pillowcase that he'd been in contact with were all soaked with moisture. Well, that was just lovely. Roy groaned and sat up, rubbing his head. There was this pain, right behind his eyes, that didn't seem to want to go away, as well as a throbbing ache that resounded throughout his head.

Throwing his legs over the side of his bed, Roy hunched over them, hoping that the lack of movement for a moment would still the headache. As soon as he stopped moving and his blood wasn't pounding quite so fast, the headache subsided. That was, until he started moving again. Screw it, Roy decided. He stood and stretched as carefully as he could, knowing it wouldn't do much. The blood rushed through his head at a maddening pace, pounding through his ears.

Fuck, Roy thought. It doesn't seem like it's going to leave me so easily.

Oh well. That was what Ibuprofen was for. And alcohol.

A pained grin crept across his face as Roy stumbled into the adjoining bathroom and flipped on the light, only to flip it back off immediately with a groan. Feeling his way in the dark, Roy reached for the medicine cabinet and fumbled through its contents.

Wait. Shit, he was going to need the light to see just which drug he was taking.

Reaching for the light once again, Roy flipped it on and squinted at the label on the bottle in his hand. Oh, good, the Ibuprofen. Ooh, even better, Ibuprofen PM. Yeah, this shit would send him straight back to sleep for a few hours.

Roy stepped back out of the bathroom, glancing at the clock beside his bed. Yikes, two o'clock. He glanced back at the pill bottle in his hand. This pill was likely to keep him asleep well past when his alarm would go off for work. But the pounding in his head demanded attention, and Roy wasn't one to deprive it of what it wanted. The Lieutenant would likely kill him when Roy finally did get in tomorrow, but if this goddamned thing would go away, then it would be worth it.

Deciding being late one day of the work week wouldn't end the world, Roy went back into the bathroom to fill a glass with water. He struggled with the pill bottle for a few moments and was less than a few seconds away from burning the entire thing- contents as well- to a crisp when the cap finally came off. Roy swallowed the pill dry, then chased it down with water to get that nasty tablet-pill taste out of his mouth. Roy was never sure why he continued to swallow pills dry when they had that horrible taste, but he did it anyway.

Knowing he would pass out again soon, Roy went back into his room and quite literally fell into bed. He groaned in disgust. Right. The goddamned sheets were soaked with sweat, and Roy was much too tired and in too much pain to even want to try and go twelve rounds with a fitted sheet and his mattress together. Instead, he stumbled down the hallway, stopping at the linen closet for a fresh blanket, and into the living room.

He collapsed onto the couch, using the armrest as a pillow. He didn't really think about how much he would regret that in the morning, as that armrest was about the most painful fucking piece of furniture that Roy owned. He just thought about sleep, and how nice it would be once his thoughts were no longer grounded by reality.

Of course, he never stopped to think what dream it was that he'd woken up from. And it never occurred to Roy that it might come back the instant he tried to sleep.


Smoke filled the air. But that was nothing unusual, Ishbal was always on fire these days. Roy squinted through it, trying to regain sight of Maes. He'd just been there a moment before, hadn't he?

Oh, well. Roy would see Maes later at Base Camp, wouldn't he? Except Roy had this sinking feeling, like he wouldn't ever see Maes again if he didn't find him now.

Feeling anxious, his heart pumping a little faster than Roy would ever admit, Roy stepped through the smoke cautiously, chancing a quiet, "Hughes!"

There was no answer, though Roy couldn't really say he was expecting one. His legs carried him faster through the dark, suffocating smoke, though Roy hadn't told them to. "Hughes!"

His legs carried him into an abandoned building, and his eyes searched hopefully for his friend. Or hopelessly, Roy wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure what to expect from an empty building. Something moved in the darkness, beyond Roy's sight. Not that abandoned, apparently.

The figure moved into the light, offering Roy a good look at him. And a him it was, a young him. The kid couldn't have been older than fifteen- the same age as Fullmetal.

Ah, so it was a dream. If it wasn't, Roy wouldn't know who Fullmetal was. Hell of a dream though. It seemed familiar, somehow, and more realistic. More surreal, like a...memory? But that couldn't be. Roy had no actual recollection of this search for Hughes. He figured it best to watch, wait and see where the dream went.

The Ishbalan boy stepped further out of the shadows nervously, obviously casing the building and checking Roy out, assessing the danger of the Amestrian soldier before him. Roy opened his mouth, intending to say something along the lines of, "It's okay, I won't hurt you."

Instead, what came out was, "Dirty Ishbalan. I hate all you fuckers." Roy's eyes widened in shock, wondering at the sentences he hadn't even been thinking. What the hell?

The boy's eyes widened as well, and it was then that Roy noticed the large gun he carried at his side. It looked like the type Aerugonian soldiers carried, though Roy couldn't be sure. He guessed this was proof that Aerugo was supplying Ishbal with weapons in their war against Amestris.

The gun lifted, pointing directly at Roy. Roy backed away a step, and the boy's hand sprang to the trigger. He held up his hands carefully, once again opening his mouth and hoping against hope he had control this time. Apparently not, as the words, "You better shoot me now, you little fucker, or I swear to your precious god Ishballa that I will burn you to a crisp and make your family watch."

Once again horrified at his words, Roy slammed his mouth shut in shock, no longer trusting himself to speak. He watched the kid carefully. The Ishbalan seemed to be in shock, as if he'd never heard an Amestrian soldier speak to him like that. And for all Roy knew, maybe he hadn't.

Roy took a step closer to the kid, hands still held in the air. While the kid didn't know it, that was probably the worst place for Roy's gloved hand to be at the moment. He didn't dare speak, afraid of losing control again. With the step forward Roy took, the boy took another step back. The gun in his hand shook, though it was still pointed at Roy's chest and would not miss.

Roy took a moment to wonder what exactly he was going to do. He couldn't speak for fear of saying another horrible thing, and it's not like the kid would know military hand gestures that would mean 'get the hell out of here, now'.

He could always snap, burn the boy into a crisp as promised and be done with the whole situation, and Roy could go on with his search for Maes. But Roy didn't want to have to do that, the boy reminded him too much of Fullmetal. But if the boy didn't back down, he wouldn't have much of a choice.

From behind the boy came a light chuckle, though the kid didn't seem to notice. Something in the shadows moved. Another figure? Yes, there he was. He didn't as far into the light as the kid had, though enough that Roy could see his face, which drowned in shadows, and his bright clothes.

Sorry, but was that a...clown? It's bright red hair stuck out in dead tufts, and it's colorful suit was in tatters. Blood leaked through the thin cloth all over It's body, and it's white-painted face was dry and leathery, like that of a mummy. In Its right hand It held the strings for several balloons with the dark color of red blood. How could the kid not see it? Was Roy just going insane? A clown, even one as dead as this one looked, in Ishbal? He must be.

It took another step forward, and Roy moved his hand and held it poised to snap in the direction of the clown. Clowns were supposed to be friendly, but this one looked anything but. It was ten feet away, and he could smell Its dead, rotting breath. He wanted to throw up, but couldn't.

The boy stared at him as if he was insane. He glanced to his left, and his eyes widened. What, did you have to look directly at It to see It? Okay, then. The boy's gun moved from pointed at Roy to pointed at the clown, and suddenly Roy doubted as to whether that would even do anything.

No, this thing didn't look like the sort of being that would be bothered by something so simple as a gun.

SNAP

Flames raced through the air right past the boy and lighting the clown, turning It into a column of fire. Roy didn't feel any different, any safer. The smell of burning flesh permeated the air, a stench that Roy didn't seem to be able to escape these days. But, what was that? That sound?

It sounded almost like laughter, but that couldn't be, could it? A column of fire can't laugh, and the being it had encased a moment before certainly couldn't either, not at this point. Not anymore.

But there it was, cackling along with the crackling of the fire. Fire that was hot enough to melt human skin and cremate bones within minutes, but something inside was laughing. It sounded sinister, but weirdly amused, as if the fire didn't bother It at all. Roy almost begged for it to stop, but there wasn't much he could do. Either the fire would kill the thing or it wouldn't, and odds were leaning toward the latter at this moment in time.

The flames started dying down before their time, and the boy beside Roy let out an awful screech, the kind of sound Roy would have made if he weren't too busy being disgusted. Roy grimaced, backing away a step.

The former clown was a torched corpse now. It's skin was burned away to almost nothing, but just enough to forever sear a terrifying image in the eyeballs of the viewer. The bones that remained were still burning hot, though flames no longer licked them. Heat glowed from within, as if fire was burning up the marrow inside. It truly was a terrifying, disgusting image. Not to mention the smell. It was worse than before, because now the remaining flesh on the corpse was rotting somehow, though it had only been a few minutes.

The clown's corpse still stood, the skull a grinning grim reminder of Its old painted on smile. In Its hand It still clenched a fisitful of balloon strings, and somehow the goddamned things hadn't been burned up in the fire. Instead of just being dyed the color of blood like they were before, they actually dripped with real, dark blood now. It splattered on the ground like mini water balloons when hitting a solid object.

Repulsed, Roy took another step back. He was behind the boy now. The kid stared in terror at the thing in front of them, which was no longer identifiable as human. The thing suddenly lurched forward a step, and Roy now found himself unable to move. His feet seemed as if glued to the ground, and no amount of mental tugging would release them.

The corpse lurched forward another step, toward the boy. Roy wanted to tell the boy to run, but the words stuck in his throat. What the hell was happening?

With speed that should not have been possible for a living human, let alone a corpse, the clown's body shot forward, and the grinning skull latched onto the boy's throat. Blood spurted between the teeth and the gaps in the bone of the corpse, spraying blood onto Roy's face and collar. He wanted to wipe it all away, but again there was the problem of not being able to move.

The skull detached from the kid's neck, and the fresh body fell to the ground, creating an audible thump.

One balloon loosed itself from the corpse's hold, and it floated still in the air for a moment, unmoving, before it began ascending into the sky. Roy watched in morbid fascination as the balloon floated higher and higher until it was hidden by smoke.

It chuckled again, once more demanding Roy's attention. It moved, not lurching this time, but with a slow limp. It walked slowly toward him, as if enjoying the fear It provoked in Roy's mind, making his blood pump faster and faster, so fast Roy thought he might pass out.

"Ha, that fear. Your scent is laced with it, little human. That pumping blood in your veins, I want it. I want it all." It paused, in both speech and motion. "Do you want a balloon, Roy? It floats, you know. They all float. The more people die, they higher they float." Another balloon loosed itself from Its grasp. "Do you want this one, Roy? It has your name written all over it."

The balloon moved as if pushed, and it stopped about midway between Roy and the corpse. "Look how it floats, Roy." Its dead grin grew wider. "I'd say you're about to die, Roy."

The corpse moved again, faster, much much faster than it should've been able to, faster than anything Roy had ever seen. Its teeth were an inch from his throat, the wide jaws opened and

SNAP

Roy lurched forward, gasping and struggling to regain his breath. His lungs felt like they were being compressed, like they weren't being allowed to capture the air they needed. He didn't know why, but his arm was held out before him in midair. Ah. Roy had been his gloves on in his sleep. The wall across from where Roy had apparently been aiming was blackened, burned beyond recognition. He put his arm down and swung his legs over the edge of the couch, still struggling to breath. It felt like his lungs were closing up on him, and his vision was going black.

Oh god, his asthma. He'd thought he'd grown out of it when he was a child. Roy's lungs refused to pull in the proper amount of air, and he knew it wouldn't be long until they didn't pull in any at all. He stumbled to his feet, put his hand on the unburned wall and moved toward his bedroom. He had to get to his bedside table.

But no, his vision was spotty and soon his legs refused to hold him. He collapsed to his knees, but before Roy could actually hit the ground, a pair of strong arms caught him.

"Roy? Roy what's going on, are you alright?" Was that...?

"Maes," Roy choked out.

"What's wrong? What do you need?"

"Inhaler...bedside...table."

"Your asthma? I thought that was gone! Dammit!" Hughes moved carefully, setting Roy gently against the wall before moving quickly to the bedroom and digging through two drawers before finding what he needed.

Kneeling beside Roy, who seemed to have passed out from lack of oxygen, Maes quickly inserted the inhaler into Roy's mouth and pressed down on the trigger. It was a moment before the medicine did its job, but when Roy gradually started breathing again, Maes breathed a sigh of relief. He went back to Roy's room and picked up a random pillow and went back to the hall. He set the pillow on the floor beside the couch, then gently scooted Roy into a more comfortable position with Roy's head on top of the pillow.

Maes glanced at his watch. It was nearly two in the afternoon. Lieutenant Hawkeye had gotten worried when Roy hadn't reported in at eight when he was supposed to. She was busy with her own duties and keeping Roy's team in check, so she'd asked Maes to come see if Roy was okay. Clearly he wasn't. Sleeping on his couch, it looked like, while in the middle of a serious asthma attack? No, Maes would not call that okay.

He moved back down the hall and into Roy's room. First he was wondering why Roy was sleeping the couch when he had a perfectly fine bed. And it wasn't like he had a wife to piss off, so why? And why had he slept so long? As long as Maes had known Roy, the man had always had a sort of mental alarm clock that went off no matter what. During the war, it had gone off maybe an hour before he was scheduled for duty every morning. It was the same here in East City.

Glancing into the bathroom, he saw a pill bottle sitting on the sink counter. Maes picked it up and glanced at the label. Ibuprofen PM really shouldn't have been enough to make Roy need to sleep until two in the afternoon, especially with Roy's mental alarm clock. He'd noticed the burn marks on the wall earlier, and the ignition gloves on Roy's hand. Maybe he'd had one of those horrible, bad dreams that were so lifelike you almost couldn't tell the difference between the dream and real life.

If that was the case, Maes was sure he knew what the dream had been about. For the both of the, the only dreams that were that vivid were the ones from the war. It must've been what caused Roy to sleep so late, and if the dream was the memory Maes thought it might be, then it made sense that Roy's asthma would come back years after he'd beaten it.

Ah, that memory. Roy had told Maes about it after coming back from the war. It was nearing the end of their stint in Ishbal, and the war was almost won. He'd come wandering back through the endless smoke of Ishbal after being missing for almost three hours. Maes had rushed toward Roy to ask what the hell had happened before stopping abruptly.

There were marks on his neck that were bleeding profusely, and to Maes they'd looked almost like teeth marks. That was confirmed by Doctor Knox, who'd bandaged up Roy's neck after giving him a sedative to help him sleep through the night. Knox had told Maes that not only were they teeth marks, they were human teeth marks. As if some rabid human had tried to take a bite out his best friend.

When Roy'd come wandering out of that smoke, he'd been mumbling incessantly about a clown, a monster that'd survived all of his fire attacks and tried to kill him. He didn't know why it had let him go, because Roy hadn't had the firepower to kill whatever it was.

Roy's story hadn't made a whole lot of sense, which had worried Maes to no end. He was rambling and exhausted and in pain, which was why Knox had finally just knocked him out. What made it even better was that when Roy awoke the next morning, he had no memory of anything to do with the clown, and had no recollection of the entire day beforehand. All that remained of his unknown adventure were the scarring teeth marks on his neck, which vanished soon after as well.

Since the war, Roy had had one occurrence very similar to this one, minus the asthma attack. Maes had been there to keep an eye on him then too, and he would now. Maes went back into the living room and kneeled beside Roy again and began to pull his ignition glove off his hand. Maes didn't want another wall to be burned to a crisp, or even worse, him.

He set the glove aside and stood, stretching his back for a moment, then went into the kitchen to use Roy's phone. After a quick conversation with a certain very worried Lieutenant, Maes once again went back to Roy's side. He sat against the wall beside his friend and waited patiently for him to wake up.

After fifteen or twenty minutes, Roy did just that. His eyes flickered open slowly, at first confused at seeing his friend's face and then a little afraid as his memory of the dream raced back through his mind.

"Maes? What...what are you doing here?" Roy asked, through his rather raspy-sounding voice.

"Looking for you. I got here about two and you were nearly passed out on the floor."

"Two...in the morning?"

"No, Roy, in the afternoon. You slept for a while."

Roy sat up carefully, stretching every muscle slowly as he did. "If that's true, then why do I still feel so tired?"

"Why do you think? You remember what you were dreaming about?"

"...Yeah."

"That would be why. I've already told Lieutenant Hawkeye that you won't be in today, so you can just take the rest of the day off and sleep."

"I'm not so sure that I want to go back to sleep."

"You'll be fine, Roy. I'm right here, and I don't think I'll be leaving for a while."

Roy tossed his friend a half hearted glare before moving to his feet and starting toward his bedroom. "Gah, I feel so drained. More drained than I ever have in my entire life."

Maes stood as well, following a foot or two behind Roy in case his over-tired body decided not to cooperate. "I'm not surprised. It was the same way last time you had this dream."

"So I've had it before?"

"Yeah, but it was like the very next day you forgot you ever had it."

"...If I forget it again tomorrow, do me a favor and remind me."

Maes crossed his fingers in his pocket. "Sure thing, Roy."

Roy walked slowly down the hall, speed more muscle soreness than anything else. He paused in front of the hallway mirror and frowned, hand reaching up to cup his neck. "The hell?"

"Roy? What's up?"

"Where did this scar come from? I don't remember ever getting this thing."

Maes frowned, he too staring at the already fading scar. He knew from experience that it would be gone by tomorrow, along with Roy's memories of the dream. Roy continued, "They look almost like...are those teeth marks?"

"Who knows?" Maes asked. "They'll still be there in the morning, Roy, and you still need to get some actual sleep."

The alchemist sighed. "Fine." He shuffled the last few steps to his bedroom and into bed, asleep again almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Maes frowned down at his friend worriedly. He reached down and gently pried Roy's fingers away from his neck, examining the place where the scar had decorated the skin of his neck and upper collarbone a moment before. Now, there was nothing as Maes had expected.

He straightened with a sigh. "Until next time, Roy. I'll be there with you when it comes back to haunt your dreams again. I just hope its a long time before it does."

Roy, thankfully, didn't answer, and instead slept on peacefully, unaware as the memories of his supernatural encounter faded away again.

Unaware that the next time they made an appearance, he would not have his best friend there to look after him.


A/N: Alright, so to explain about the things in this chapter. I'm about halfway through Stephen King's "It." Not a very fun book, maybe, but it's still a very good book. The old movie scared the crap out of me when I was younger, and for some reason I still decided to read the original book. I do not have very good life choices.

Anyway, scary things in general do not sit well with me, and I've been having scary It-related dreams these past couple days, and the one I had last night was this story. So when I woke up, I did my best to record everything that happened in that dream.

I hope it turned out okay, and I'm very interested to know what you guys think about this. Let me know in the reviews!

I really feel like I didn't do Stephen King any justice, but that may just be because I'm not an experienced horror author, so who knows. Meh!

Bye! See ya' next chapter!