He woke up to light sifting in between the blinds. Automatically, just like every Sunday, he reached over to wrap his arm around his still sleeping boyfriend. This morning his arm hit empty space. Sitting up and yawning, yellow eyes cast about the room, searching. He looked for a suit on the floor. Gone. Ed got up and went into the kitchen. Empty. He checked the restroom. No one. He scanned the refrigerator door. No note. Feeling a mix of hurt and indignant, he walked back to his bedroom and reached for the phone, intent on dialing a number he knew by heart and jumped a little when the phone rang first.

"Hello, you have reached Edward Elric, State Alchemist and all-around badass. How may I assist you on this lovely Sunday morning?"

"Well, that's an improvement over, 'this is Ed, what the fuck do you want?"

"Good morning to you too, Winry.
"We need to talk."

"Last thing I needed, first thing this morning."

"Cute."

"Cute is my middle name. Talk to Al, isn't that what you married him for?"

"Why I married him is none of your business. Are you going to meet me or not?"

"Says the girl who is a day train ride away."

"Not anymore, I'm not. I'm in town. Central Hotel. You can meet me in the lobby."

"A Hotel tryst? Be still my beating heart."

"You wish."

"Fuck you."

"I'll be there in an hour."

Al could never find anything he was looking for in this house. He could swear shit just got up and walked off. He was looking for a book. He'd already searched the usual places. Library, under the bed, under the mattress, on the nightstand, in the drawer of the nightstand, beside the toilet (best place to think, in his opinion) and under the couch cushions and had come up empty. The only places left to look were in Winry's zones. Places he shied away from because she was damned dangerous with that wrench, and heaven forbid he misplaced one of her items. With a heavy sigh of defeat he began searching through her desk drawers. She was off in Central for a long weekend to get AutoMail supplies. He wasn't sure what. Whenever she talked about it his eyes glazed over just like hers did when he discussed Alchemy with her. Truth be told, it made him feel a little lonely.
He closed the drawer and opened another one. Then another. He almost slammed one in frustration. Where the hell was the damn thing? Why couldn't she just leave his shit alone? Last drawer, crazy eights. He slid it open and blinked at a single bottle, the only thing in the drawer. He would have dismissed it and slammed the door but he had just forgotten all about the book. He picked the bottle up and closed his eyes. When he opened them the label hadn't changed, nor had the name on the bottle.

Winry Elric

Prenatal Vitamins

It said some other things about taking one pill a day with food and etcetera but the words were all blurring together and didn't make any sense. None of it made any sense. He set the bottle down on the desk and sat heavily in the chair. Everything inside of him just stilled, drowned out by a faint buzzing in his ear. He lifted his arm and stared at it for a moment and then ripped it across his wife's desk knocking everything, but most importantly that damning bottle, onto the floor. He didn't realize he was crying until he put his head in hands.

General Roy Mustang parked his luxury sedan in the cemetery parking lot, took a deep breath and got out of the car. The wind whistled through the trees and leaves crunched under a pair of military issue boots. A gate swung open and then closed with a resounding clang. His hand held a brown paper bag filled with his means of getting through this ...incident. His younger lover's momentary lapse in judgment.
It didn't take long to find the gravestone he was looking for. Maes Hughes, beloved Husband and Father died in service to the great country of Amestris. Roy didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He sat down and leaned against the marker. He opened the liquor bottle and took a long swig. He no longer cringed at the burn as he had as a boy. What could really burn the Flame, after all?
It wasn't supposed to be this way, he mused. He was supposed to get married and be happy. He'd earned it hadn't he? With his blood sweat and tears he had found redemption. He had the perfect family for politics. They looked great in magazine articles and newspaper clippings. They looked great at rallies and parties and social gatherings and the entire mundane etcetera that came with being in power. Wasn't it also appropriate that he, after finding his wife unsatisfying, hook up with a hot, young blonde? All the other Generals did it. Of course, Edward wouldn't be Edward if he didn't complicate things. He allowed himself a small smile with nothing real behind it. Love. What was that, anyway? And most importantly, what the hell was Roy supposed to say back?
He turned his head so that his cheek would rest against the granite, he rubbed slightly. A caress. Again he lifted the bottle and had a drink from it.
"I'm taking care of them for you." The words were swallowed up in the silence of the cemetery.

He showered, shaved, dressed, tied his hair in a braid (everyone had given him a hard time about the pony tail but it wasn't until Roy said he missed the braid that he reverted back) put his shoes on at the door and left his apartment. Snapshots of memory slid in and out of his head during the short drive to the Hotel. Black hair, blonde hair, pale skin, tan skin... Why did he always find himself in bed with the wrong person? Just then he missed being fifteen and those carefree days of being so busy fighting for his life that he hadn't thought twice about...(you are an adult, you can say it) sex.

Winry stared at her coffee cup without actually seeing it. She was so lost in her thoughts she visibly jerked when Ed pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.
"About time you got here. I was waiting forever." He attempted to joke.
She made herself meet his eyes.
Better to just say it and get it over with.
"I'm pregnant."
"And?"
"That's all you have to say?"
"What do you want me to say? What did Al say?"
"I haven't told him yet."
"I see."
"Do you?"
"Still holding out hope. Thy torch doth burn brightly..." he broke and held his cheek. The slap shouldn't have come as much of a surprise. He really was being a dick.
"Are you planning on tell him?" Edward asked after a moment.
Winry laughed but there was no humor in it.
"Telling him what? That I'm pregnant? That it's not his? That I slept with his brother, but he doesn't have to worry about me leaving because said brother is pining away for the man who murdered my parents? Sure, Ed. I'll get right on that."
"Well, when you put it like that."
"Stop it."
"Stop what, trying to lighten the mood? You drop one fuck of a bomb on me and then want to dictate my reaction? Sorry princess, not happening. You made the mess, you clean it up. As far as Roy goes... Well, you can't help who love. For what it's worth, I'm sorry it hurts you."
"You can't help who you love, huh?" She gave him a long look. "I could have told you that."