So he has nothing at all to do with this chapter, but can we please just take a second to appreciate Vato Falman.

Alright, I forgot to update yesterday… Sorry… But I'm here now. And here's a little ellipses for Remembrance Day;

Okay, now let's get to it! Plot, here I come!


"I need to know exactly what his relationship with the boy is," he said, not looking up from his paperwork. "Do you really think he'd follow the whole way if we pulled something like this?"

The blond nodded. "I think so. He does seem to genuinely care about the boy. If he is given permission to leave, I believe he'd go right along – likely with a couple of men for backup. The Fullmetal brat has a skill for attracting company. There's no telling how many others would tag along. But they can be dealt with."

"Do you think we'd be able to snag both of our 'old friends' with the same bait?"

He considered this carefully. "It depends. If either of them saw the incident as their own fault, they'd be sure to go along. If we go ahead as planned, we'll definitely hook the brat. We're liable to have difficulty getting around a certain obstacle, though."

"What would that be?" the older man cocked his head.

"A bodyguard," came the reply.

A laugh. "Is that all? If it's the person I'm thinking of, we'll have no trouble dealing with that issue. They're the same person who was in the way of the original plan. We'll just have obstacles like those assassinated."

The blond looked down. "If you say so. Anyway, it is to my belief that following the original target will most certainly snare the Fullmetal kid. We could get either one of the first targets by placing blame on them…I believe target number one would be optimum for this, as target two will follow if he goes. For protection. The guard can be dealt with but not killed, for extra insurance. They have an odd connection with target two."

The officer nodded and continued writing. "Alright. That sounds ideal. Just gather as much information as you can and we shall move from there…though I believe the plan is near completion. Minimum effort for maximum gain – we take two and end up with six."

The blond man nodded. "Yes. And if out prime objective doesn't take the bait, we have…other options."

He placed a photograph of a young girl on the desk. "Central," he said.

The older man eyed the picture and nodded. "Good work. Just keep watching him and drawing out everything you can." He shuffled his papers into a neat pile and looked up. "Revenge will be ours."

He nodded. "Yes, father."


Edward had taken off a few steps after Roy's words, but halted and turned as the colonel didn't follow.

"Colonel? What's—Huh?"

Roy slipped a hand into his pocket and felt around for his gloves. Just as his fingers snagged the rough material, he recalled the fact that the area was more or less underwater as it had been rained on so heavily.

"Hey," said Edward, walking back towards his teammate. "We oughtta keep running. Wouldn't want these guys overtaking, huh?"

As the boy drew close, Roy kept his eye on the approaching team and muttered his reply so they wouldn't hear, "I don't think winning the race is their objective."

Edward's golden eyes narrowed.

"Hey, what's with the sour looks?" came the words of the newcomers. "You don't look happy to see us."

Edward's sneer intensified. Amory.

The young (yet still older) State Alchemist folded his arms as his father jogged to a halt behind him, their hair unkempt and uniforms soaking.

"To be honest, I can't say I am," Roy replied. "We'll be running even harder now to keep you off our tails."

Theodore gave a snide smile. "Is that so? Well, we've just had a break as well, so you'll have to be going at full steam."

"We intend to," Roy told him.

While the adults 'conversed', Amory and Edward glared at each other from either side. The younger of the two pulled a face, baring his lower teeth and going cross-eyed.

Amory looked disgusted at first, but eventually puffed up his cheeks and stuck his tongue out just to get back at Edward.

The boy returned and soon they were having a full-blown face-pulling war across the track.

"Are you sure about that, Colonel?" Theodore inquired with an insinuating tone to his voice. "You don't seem all that much physically."

"You'd be surprised," Roy countered. "Looks can be deceiving. For instance, I have reason to believe those muscles of yours pack more of a punch than to be expected from such a frail body. Such strength at your age is something to be admired."

Roy supressed a smirk as Theodore's eye twitched. He was the master of the Insult Sandwich, especially when it came to older officers. (Which was why it irritated him a great deal when Edward used these tactics against him…)

Roy prided himself on his sharp tongue and wit. This meant he was confident he would be able to take a longer break from the event by running his mouth instead of his legs. And as soon as he was finished, he would end the 'argument' there and run, leaving himself more refreshed and the other team taken down a peg. He just had to keep in mind not to go too far – they didn't need the Southern team out to get them any more than already.

A flawless plan, but one that hadn't taken into consideration a factor many people tended to miss when planning.

Edward Elric.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY ABOUT MY HEIGHT, YA DAMN SOUTHERN BASTARD?! I'LL KNOCK YOU RIGHT DOWN TO SIZE! I knew you were an ass, ever since I first saw you stalking me and Al around South HQ!"

"Stalking?!" Amory sneered at the suggestion. His blue eyes swarmed with a hate Roy would have thought impossible to compile in the short time he'd known Edward, but it was believable enough knowing this was the kid who'd managed to make enemies of nearly every officer he'd ever met. "What kind of an accusation is that?! The hell would I want with a little pipsqueak like you?"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A TINY LITTLE MIDGET SO SHORT YA COULDN'T EVEN SPOT HIM ON THE END OF YOUR NOSE?!"

"I didn't say that, you brat!"

Roy and Theodore abandoned their own discussion as their younger counterparts continued the shouting match, slowly drawing closer and louder as the fight escalated.

"Maybe if ya weren't such a tight-ass military twerp you'd actually get somewhere in life!"

"Says yourself! Youngest State Alchemist in history and you throw it away not even trying to keep with current politics!"

"You don't know Jack about me! So don't pretend like you have the right to judge my actions! I'm sure your old man there'd be real happy with your jerk-ass attitude, seeing as how you're both such losers!"

Theodore glared at Roy, who merely sighed and rubbed his neck at Edward's screeching. I should do something, before this gets ugly.

"Edward—"

"Well at least my father's respectable and takes his work seriously, not like your lazy ass of a father!"

Roy frowned. "I'm not so keen on the jabs at my work ethic, thank you very much," he said.

Edward trembled with fury by this point. "He is not my dad!" the boy raged, and before Roy could get a word in edgewise, Edward had an auto-mail fist swinging towards Amory's jaw.

Too late! Roy cringed.

CLANG!

Edward's fist met Amory's open palm, the auto-mail limbs connecting with a loud, metallic noise. This was followed by a quiet grinding as each struggled to push the other back.

"My father," growled Edward through a gritted jaw, "was a bastard of an excuse for a man who left a wife and two kids at home never to return, not even for the funeral of the woman who loved him so dearly. That asshole's dead to me, so never insult that asshole over there by mistaking him for the man that raised a brat like me!"

Roy blinked his wide eyes. "I think he just defended me. Is someone making note of this? Please tell me someone else heard that."

"Get your subordinate off my son!" barked Theodore, jabbing a finger at the two tousling alchemists.

"Right, right, whatever," Roy walked forward and reached out to knock the pair's arms apart, but jumped back flicking his hand in the air. "Ow! What the…"

Completely absorbed in their own world, Amory and Edward were still making threats. White hot lightning crackled through the air around them as if it were a physical manifestation of their anger. That same lightning had scorched the sleeve of Roy's uniform and almost burnt his hand in the process.

"This arm of mine is fully powered and ready to discharge," Amory was murmuring. "Are you sure you wanna go through with this?"

Edward grinned, though his golden eyes were ablaze with anger. "Think you can handle it? You're already zapping in and out through the rain. Would I be right in saying the only thing stopping you from electrocuting us all through the air moisture is the sheer amount of energy and willpower you're pouring into that circle on your palm?"

Amory's nostril's flared.

"Not very efficient as far as alchemy goes, is it?"

Roy walked a safe distance away and reached for his pocket, pulling out a cloth and placing it in the mud. He gingerly tapped the edge of the cloth and the alchemical circle patterned onto the material lit up with a nearly electrical flash.

With a blast of air, a column of earth shot up between the two aggressive alchemists and broke their hands apart. The column wrapped itself around Amory's metal wrist and in his surprise, he lost control of the stored electricity.

Roy had formed the earth around Amory under the assumption he would end up discharging the energy. The damp, muddy shackle absorbed the zapping electricity in an instant, leaving Amory free to wrench his hand away.

"Cool it, you two," ordered Roy. "Do you have any idea how far behind we've fallen now?"

"Yeah, Amory," mocked Edward. "Do you have any idea?"

"Can it, you twerp!"

"Make me!"

"Okay, that's it, shrimpy! You're getting fried!"

"SHRIMPY?!"

And before anyone knew what was going on, Amory had tackled Edward to the ground in the same instant the boy had punched his opposition right in the cheek.

The two were wrestling in the mud, Edward yanking on Amory's tiny, messy ponytail and the Southern alchemist digging his forehead into the boy's neck.

"Majors!" Theodore yelled at the two, but to little effect. "On your feet, soldiers!"

Roy bared his teeth as the pair rolled about in the sodden ground, getting thoroughly drenched and mud-covered.

"Edward Elric, you get off the ground this second, or so help me I will lock you in the dormitory with Major Armstrong for so long, you'll be sparkling for the rest of your days!" Roy snapped. "And no dinner for either of you brats!"

Edward and Amory halted their tussling, the latter trapped within a headlock and clawing at a wrecked blond braid.

"Now get up, or that's two days' dinners gone," demanded Roy, looking deadly.

The two broke apart and rose to their feet, scuffing at the dirt as rain tore streaks through the mud on their faces.

"Good." Roy folded his arms and narrowed his black eyes. "Now, as much as I like to see a healthy competition amongst opposing teams, the level of animosity is completely unacceptable, not to mention unbefitting of an Amestrian officer."

Edward muttered something under his breath.

"Care to repeat that?"

The young alchemist jumped and shook his head quickly, swallowing.

"Thought not." Roy surveyed the pair with disdainful eyes. "Now split up, the two of you. I don't want to witness something as undignified as that ever again. Edward, I believe I've taught you better than that and I'm sure your father has raised you in a likewise manner, Amory. Do not continue to disappoint. Understand?"

The two of them nodded sombrely, each nursing new bruises and scratches.

"Good. Now take a moment to clean yourselves up before we continue with this run."

The two boys nodded again and meekly went about fixing their hair and clothes.

Theodore walked up behind Roy, watching the young State Alchemists. "Don't go thinking that the fact you can discipline your Fullmetal boy makes you a worthy parental figure for him," he accused. "You're still little more than a man yourself. What makes you think you have what it takes to support this boy?"

Roy frowned again and tensed up, his dark gaze fixed over his shoulder towards the man. He couldn't see him, but he didn't need to in order to picture the look of disapproval on his face.

He was right.

How could Roy go on playing father to Edward if he didn't even know what parents were meant to do?

"Especially someone like yourself," Theodore muttered as he stepped away. "Do you really think the kid deserves to be raised by the Hero of Ishbalan Massacre – by death's own attack dog?"

Roy's clenched fists fell limp as the words drove an icy spear through his stomach. His body went numb as cold spread through his nerves. The annoyance of rain was no more than a crinkle in the horizon now.

"There isn't a person alive who deserves the likes of you."


By the time Roy and Edward had reached the end of the track, the Kambeian, Northern and Western teams had already arrived, in that order.

Inuya and Umaro were seated at a small bench underneath a hastily erected shelter playing chess. The Meinhardts were just next to them, talking to each other quietly. It seemed like the team from West City had only recently arrived, as they were still huffing and drinking what looked from a distance like two supply barrels of water.

Though Roy really couldn't care less about the other teams, given that his chest was burning and he couldn't feel his legs. Maybe he should worry about that? …Nah. Too tired.

Edward ran to a halt just behind him, chest heaving and face red. His golden hair clung to his wet face like seaweed to a rock at low tide and he was still slathered in grime.

Roy could only assume he didn't look much better, bar a lack of mud.

Upon reaching the finish, Edward had no issue stumbling off to the side and falling dramatically onto his stomach in complete silence.

An event adjudicator watched him in puzzlement before turning to Roy and saying, "Congratulations. East City has placed fourth in the race."

Roy could only nod breathlessly and flick his head in a backwards indication that another team was hot on their heels.

South City.

Roy's forehead creased as he huffed. Normally, he was able to brush off any trash talk thrown at him by those who aimed to bring him down. Being hated as much as Roy tended to give you that skill.

But Theodore's words had struck a raw nerve – no, a gaping wound. Like a blunt knife, those few sentences had sunk themselves into Roy's chest and prised open a slash that had barely even been sewn shut.

As the waiting man walked off to greet Amory and Theodore, Roy placed his hands on his hips and walked over to where Edward lay splayed on the ground.

"It's not good to lie down straightaway," he pointed out after panting for a good while. "You need to keep moving. Cool down, so they say."

Edward gave his head a weak shake. "Uh-uh. Not moving."

Roy rolled his eyes. "At least get out of the mud."

There was no response, bar a distressed sounding moan from the teenage alchemist.

"Colonel," came a voice from behind, evoking a start from the man. "I brought your cloaks."

Roy turned to his lieutenant, nodding. He met her brown gaze and she asked, "How was it?"

"Gruelling," replied Roy. "I'd rather have gone cliff jumping than done that." He paused. "Actually, scratch that. I'm not one for heights either."

She smiled sympathetically and handed the heavy black cloak to Roy, who draped it over his shoulders to keep out the rain.

Edward grasped for his coat. "Brilliant," he mumbled. "A pillow."

Roy snatched the red material before Edward could get his hands on it. "Get up, Fullmetal."

The boy scowled, propped up on one elbow. "You suck."

"You look like an idiot down there."

"I don't care! I'm tired!"

"You'll catch cold sleeping on the wet floor," argued Hawkeye gently, taking his coat.

Edward's scowl twisted even further as she stepped forward to offer her hand. "How did you get so completely plastered in mud?"

"Long story," answered Edward in a mumble as she pulled him up.

The Fullmetal Alchemist reached for his cloak, but Hawkeye drew it back. "Not until you clean yourself up," she chided.

"Huh?" Edward sagged. "This much mud?"

"I know you know how to do it."

The boy grumbled and clapped his hands, slapping them to his chest. He used the water soaking his clothes to entrap the particles of mud and evaporated the whole mix off himself.

Still scowling, he took his coat and shrugged it on before folding his arms.

Roy cleared his throat. "Forgetting something?"

"Don't think so."

The colonel's eyebrow rose in that oh-so-familiar look. "Very funny, Fullmetal. Dry me off."

Edward rolled his eyes and clapped, grabbing Roy's arms. The man closed his eyes against the blue flash that shot up by his face. In an instant, he was dry.

Or so he thought.

"Edward," said Hawkeye in a stern tone.

"What?"

"Dry the colonel properly."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Edward with a shrug.

"It says 'I'm one hot dog' on his back in mud."

Edward sighed. "Darnit, Lieutenant, you ruin all my fun."

The woman smiled a little bit at Edward as the boy clapped again, Roy glowering.

"That's my job," she said teasingly.

Edward blinked and touched Roy again, looking surprised. When the reaction died down, he said, "I've never heard you joke before, Lieutenant."

Roy pulled his cloak over one shoulder, checking his back as he did so. "Come to think of it… I can't remember the last time you told a joke either. It must have been a long time ago, back before you became so serious."

Hawkeye's forehead creased. "Maybe if you weren't such a slacker, sir, I wouldn't need to be so serious."

"Burn," Edward put in.

"You know, you really…" Roy shook his head. "I don't have the energy for this."

As he spoke, the Central team came jogging past the finish to meet the man awaiting their arrival.

A short while later – a while Edward spent drowsing about on a bench and Roy spent unwillingly conversing with Hawkeye about the work he'd be missing through the competition – Ulfric and Felix arrived.

Ulfric did not seem out of breath in the slightest; more like he'd slowed down for the whole race just to keep pace with his son.

Felix was struggling bravely on, his face red but his blue eyes shining with determination.

"Almost there!" came Ulfric's cheer from the track.

Roy couldn't help but smile as Felix stopped to jump over the finish line and shout, "I did it! I did it! I ran the whole way and dad didn't carry me at all!"

Edward opened a lazy golden eye and saw the boy bouncing up and down with an excitement that completely contradicted his probable exhaustion.

It felt like an hour they sat waiting to leave. Roy crossed his legs, leaning forward to scribble a record of today's events and Hawkeye's future schedule arrangements into his diary.

Edward's head lolled forward and he jerked upright, looking around and going a little red as Hawkeye offered to find him a blanket.

"No, I'll be fine," the boy muttered, looking at the ground and tucking his chin into his chest.

The adjudicators were considering packing everyone up to move back to base and sending out a search party for the final team when the Oratoans finally burst out of the woods.

Both were bent double and panting heavily, twigs tangled in their hair. Tyrell's white locks were stained brown with dirt and his father's clothes were torn as if they'd fought off bears.

"Did we… Did we win…?" was all Tyrell could huff before he collapsed.

"Prince Tyrell!"

Dominico blinked and looked at his son. "Huh? Oh…don't worry. He'll…be fine. The kid's…tough as nails. Seen him brave the stormy southern sea…like it was a bathtub."

"Sir…" came the worried reply of a military medic. "If it's all the same, we'll check him out."

"Oh? Yes, yes, very well. Say, could I trouble you for a drink of water?"

"O-of course… Right this way."

After Tyrell had regained consciousness and been mocked by Edward for all he was worth, the group began the journey back to East City.

Hawkeye started the engine as Roy got in the back next to Edward. As soon as they'd all buckled up she swung onto the dirt road once more and they were off – with no injuries to Roy this time.

The colonel laid his head against the window, watching the landscape roll by with half-lidded eyes. It all looked the same to him. Identical and boring.

Tree, tree, grass, rock, tree, rabbit, tree, tree, grass, a lot of trees, a lot of rocks, a lot of grass and then a mix of all three.

He closed his eyes. He had no interest in or desire to change the landscape, so why bother looking?

Getting more comfortable, Roy sat up straight and folded his arms on his chest. Within the space of a few minutes, he was out like a candle in a hurricane.

Edward stared wearily at the man and studied him. He watched how his chest rose and fell with each silent breath, how his eyes flicked about beneath their lids, how prominent the dark rings underneath were, how the soft hair on his head swayed with each turn of the car and more importantly, how soft and warm his uniform looked.

Leaning sideways to check Hawkeye's eyes were on the road, Edward shot a furtive glance all about. Once he was sure no-one was watching him, he unbuckled his belt quietly and slid over a seat. As silently as he could manage, he clicked the middle belt into its latch and slid back into the seat.

He let out a noiseless yawn and shifted his weight before resting the top of his head on Roy's upper arm. He closed his eyes and curled in closer to Roy's warm body and faint aftershave.

The sound of another car's horn blaring awoke the colonel with a start a few minutes later. He blinked away his grogginess, staring at the blond mess leaning on his shoulder.

With the slightest of exhausted yawns, he gently moved his arm out of the way and placed Edward's body directly against his side.

He didn't even check their location before he slipped under a second time, eyes too heavy to last any longer.


Doctor Emil Sandler was a plain man.

He wore a green cardigan beneath his grey coat and had deep brown eyes behind simple wire-rimmed glasses. He was quite young – still likely a couple of years Roy's elder – and had a rather unremarkable face, save for an odd freckle on his cheek. His hair was a dusty blond and he wore it in an untidy side part. His sense of humour was casual and he didn't use complicated terms or ask anything people weren't comfortable answering. Everything about him was so usual and calm, Roy was unsurprised that even the most tight-lipped of officers had no trouble confiding in him.

He spoke softly and with relaxed ease, though somehow gave the colonel the impression he'd thought out every word beforehand. He had simple mannerisms and quirks – a nudge of his glasses, a brush of his hair, a tug of his tie.

Admirably unremarkable, Roy would say.

"This will be the last of your weekly sessions before you move off to the next city. North, if I recall correctly," said Sandler in that calm tone of his. "I hope you'll continue to find my advice helpful as you travel."

Roy hinted a smile in reply. "Yes, I'll keep your methods in mind. Travelling always seems to leave me feeling off."

"Are you comfortable going through with the exercise?"

The two of them made their way further into Sandler's office where they sat down at two adjacent sofas just in front of the man's desk.

"Yes, I'm fine with it. It just takes me a while to adjust," replied Roy. "Travelling would be great if I didn't have to change beds all the time. I like breaks from the city, but I also like my apartment."

As the man studied a painting of a teapot he'd already examined countless times before, the doctor asked, "Is that your only reason for disliking travel?"

Roy shrugged and watched Sandler pour out two cups of tea.

"No," he replied eventually. "I suppose not. I'm not… I'm not keen on finding myself in unfamiliar environment. What if I were to get attacked? I wouldn't have a clue where to go or what the area was hiding. The other team would have the home-ground advantage, right?"

Sandler nodded as he handed Roy his cup, picking up a nearby pen and book to make note of this. "You don't think a mindset like that is a little paranoid?"

Roy laughed slightly. "It probably is, but you know our type. This kind of suspicion is only to be expected from someone in my position. People like me can't afford to take chances."

Sandler nodded again. "Yes, a fair point. Although you ought not to let that rule your life, or you'll only end up worrying about things that will never happen."

"Yeah." Roy sat back, closing his eyes and sipping at his tea. There were no events for today, given what the teams had faced yesterday. He was thankful – each of his limbs was aching up something terrible.

"Is there anything in particular you came to talk about, Colonel?" Sandler asked, closing his book for a moment.

"Yes, actually," answered Roy, setting his tea back on the saucer on his lap. "There is."

"What would that be? I hope it isn't advice on clothing choices. You're out of luck if that's the case. It isn't really my strong point."

The colonel smiled and shook his head. "Thankfully not, then. There's just been something on my mind of late and I thought I'd rather bring it up than try and think it through myself. There's a friend of mine I'd ask, but we're both so busy that there's been no time. You were the next best option."

"I see. Go ahead then. Ask away."

Roy set his cup on the table and let out a sigh.

"Do you think it's alright for someone like me to…to look after a kid?"

Emil was silent for a moment. "A child? What do you mean? Are you… Are you considering starting a family?"

Roy shook his head. "No. Not like that. I… It's hard to explain. I have… What I'm trying to say is that I want to… I want to look after a kid I know, but I don't know if I'm up to the job."

"What do you mean? Could you maybe elaborate on 'look after'?"

Roy leant back and looked to the ceiling. "The kid has no parents. He's around often enough that I've gotten to know him well, and he knows me. I want to know if someone like me would…be able to act as something of a father towards him. I mean, I wouldn't go so far as to adopt him – not with this lifestyle – just…show him how to live, look out for him…that kind of stuff."

Sandler looked puzzled as Roy gave a quiet laugh.

"I can't believe I'm saying this…" he muttered to himself. "Of all the things you've got me doing, this is the worst, kid…"

Sandler listened patiently as Roy regained his composure.

"A boy needs a father, right? I lost my parents young, so I know how he feels. And he's much worse off than I was. I don't want him going through everything he is all alone. I know he won't talk to anyone he feels he needs to protect, so as someone he knows is strong enough to hold their own, I want to guide him," Roy finally managed. "If that makes sense."

"It does. So, what are you concerned about?" Sandler asked, scribbling out a note.

Not for the first time, Roy was glad these meetings were confidential. "I just worry…with who I am and…what I've done… Will he be alright with someone like me? Could I do something like that? Could I… Could I touch him without breaking him?"

Sandler looked completely entranced by Roy's words, whilst the colonel continued in a quiet tone. The swirling turmoil of confusion and accusation within him intensified as the invisible wound on his chest began to burn. He moved his arms to his sides and raised his palms. The scarred skin on his fingers stood out more than ever.

"Could hands programmed to deal out destruction actually nurture something as fragile as a human life?" questioned Roy softly.

Sandler set aside his notes. This was a situation he'd heard a few times before, with other officers wondering if they were mentally up to the challenge of caring for a family. But Mustang… Mustang was a very odd case indeed. "I don't see any reason you shouldn't be. As a role model, you're not a bad choice. You see yourself as this untamed and dangerous thing, like you could snap and end it all at any second. But you're not a bomb, Colonel, and you've handled everything well up 'til now. You kept your fear and guilt tight to your chest and it almost pushed you over, but you've shed that burden now. By sharing these thoughts with me, you get less and less likely than you already were to ever lose yourself."

Roy frowned. "I see, but… Are you sure it's alright for someone with these kinds of…"

"Scars?" Sandler prompted. "Colonel, you are a bright individual, and from what I've read of your subordinate's reports, 'as cool as they come'. You are more than capable of protecting them, and a child is no different in that aspect. The only thing you need to change is that children need to be taught and have their hands held. But again, each one is unique and will respond to different approaches. With your personality, you're suited to a very specific type of child. And if the one you're speaking of is who I believe it is, then you are perfect for him. And he has some wounds that you might just be able to heal for him, given that you already bear their scars."

Roy looked up. "So you think I could do it? You think it's safe? And it's alright for him?"

Sandler smiled. "Better than alright. From what I gather from the stories you tell, you and Edward are a perfect duo. You tend treat him as a child only when he needs it and it's perfect for him. He's a boy who demands respect, and when you address him as a soldier he gets that. Then when he does need to be treated like a child, you give him that. And because you treat him as his equal, he lets you in. And vice versa. You both get so much from each other. You help him and in doing so, you get it back."

Roy cocked his head. "You gathered all that from my stories?"

"It is my job after all," came the reply. "And now my job permits me to say that you, Colonel Roy Mustang, are a perfectly capable foster father for one Edward Elric. In fact, I'd say there was no-one who could do it better."

The weight that had chained Roy's heart to his feet for the last long while eased a little. "So that's your answer?"

"Yes. Although it would help to keep in mind that children can be stressful, so if you feel your previous worry starting to sneak up on you again, it would serve you well to take a break from the boy."

Roy nodded. "I'll remember that. Anything else?"

Sandler shook his head. "Not that I can currently think of. You're a pretty unique case, Mustang. You just do as you please with Edward – your instincts are more than often the right way to go. And if those instincts are telling you to help the boy, then do it. I don't want to see him in my office in the future. So to prevent that, I'll leave his protection to you."

"Alright then." Roy picked up his tea again, but a thought hit him and he spoke before he could take a sip. "And you promise not to mention this with anyone else?"

"My lips are sealed by both contract and loyalty," came the reply. "No-one will hear of this."

"Good. Now, what next?"

"Hm. I was thinking we could talk about something a little closer to the heart than normal," proposed Sandler. "I've never asked for details before since it was such a touchy subject to bring up. But you seem to have become more comfortable here, so I'll come straight out. Let's talk about Ishbal, Colonel."

The man was silent for a moment before he gave a hesitant, "Very well."

"You're okay to speak about the matter?"

Roy nodded, but didn't meet Sandler's gaze. It only now occurred to him that this whole thing was just a game they'd been playing.

A game of spirals, starting from the outside and making their way in. From childhood memories to academy pride, they'd always skimmed the important part. A game of spirals that missed the circle.

The players were Sandler, Roy and the ghosts of his past, from the baby raised in Central City to the quiet little boy, the wide-eyed teenager with close-cropped hair to the proud and ingenious man he was now. But there was one ghost who had yet to make an appearance.

The ghost with short, short hair only starting to hint at a boyish fringe and a stiff blue uniform covered with a dusty coat. The ghost in a cold sweat beneath a hot sun, with cursed gloves on his hands and shards of sorrow in his chest. The ghost with the eyes of a killer.

"Sure? Well, let's go on. Feel free to stop whenever you like. I can't force you."

"Alright."

"Then here's my first question; how did you experience Ishbal? What did you feel?"

Roy let his mind wander as the question reached him, sending him tumbling down a spiral of twenty-nine years and stopping where he saw himself.

"Numb," he replied. "I've said it before, I'll say it again. It was…empty. For the first while it was a shock to the system, something eye-opening. We had tried to prepare ourselves beforehand, but this… No-one was ready for it. Everything was going so fast, lives were ending right before me and for the first time, I knew true chaos. I was on constant alert. This was it. Everything came and went so fast, save for those long stake-outs where all we could do was wait and see. It was torture, sitting there and wandering if you were going to live or die. Did you see yourself amongst those leaving the battlefield when it was all over? If not, when would you kick it? How? How many days did you have left to live? Thinking was agony, so I just fought."

Sandler nodded knowingly. This was not the first time he'd heard similar things.

"And then I gradually got used to it. A few weeks in and this was all I knew. Being constantly on edge was a way of life. Everything we'd left behind was a dream. This was how we lived, this was what we did. I didn't recall ever having done anything else."

Roy took a deep breath. "There were always times when I just shut down, the pressure became too much. 'Be thou for the people', they said. 'Be thou for the people…but only those the State deems useful'. We alchemists weren't people but demons. Every so often, I couldn't do any more. But I kept pushing myself – everyone pushed – because those were the orders. And all of it made me feel so empty that I ended up numb to everything. Was it even real anymore? Who knew, and who cared. That was my philosophy. I would get through, I was sure of it. But then what? I didn't know. And why? Just because I could? I'd destroyed everything I stood for, what else was there for me? I'd lost it all and I was so confused. I started to think, but it was too late by then."

His voice lowered to a point it was only just audible as he finished, half to himself. "I didn't even know what I was doing any more."

"What kept you going through that? There must have been something that stopped you jumping in front of a gun out there."

"I wanted to live, I suppose. There must have been some small shred of hope that clung to me from my academy dreams," replied Roy, studying the ceiling. "When I asked him why he was fighting, a good friend of mine told me his reason was only that he 'didn't want to die'. He said it was always simple. It didn't seem that way to me. There had to be something more, a greater purpose to continuing with the slaughter I was dealing."

He looked back down to continue. "And I eventually found it, though not until my later weeks in the campaign. 'Til then, the only thing that kept me sane was the hope of seeing my comrades live another day. I guess you could say they became my reason for living. I wanted them to live – I wanted everyone to live. To see that through, I would protect them. Somewhere along the way, I must have come to the conclusion that my life could be used for something other than this…protection. To fulfil that purpose meant I needed to live. And if living meant fighting, then fight I would to the last of my strength."

"That seems like a fair enough deduction to me," Sandler replied.

"I've spent a lot of time thinking about it," said Roy softly. "It's the only thing that makes sense. The only method in a spiral of madness."

"That's how you'd describe it, then?"

Roy gave a shallow nod.

"You said there were times when you pushed too hard and shut down. Perhaps you could elaborate on that? If it's not a bother."

"Major! Major Mustang, sir!"

"Major? Tch…Roy! Hey, Roy!"

"Colonel Mustang? Is something wrong?" Sandler tilted his head, a concerned look on his face.

"Uh? Y… Yes." Roy steeled himself, shaking off the memories. "I just…spaced out for a moment."

"Alright. So…?"

"Yeah," said Roy, placing a hand on his palm. "Those times where I just couldn't move."

Sandler wrote this down and glanced up again when it was apparent Roy wasn't going to continue speaking without prompt.

The man was still supporting his head with one hand, staring off into the distance with a blank gaze. His dark eyes clouded over as a frown turned his thoughtful expression into one of sorrow.

"Colonel? Colonel Mustang?"

Roy shook his head. "Sorry," he said, rubbing his cheek. "I did it again."

"Perhaps it would be best to leave the topic for another time?"

"Perhaps…" The colonel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I swear it's like I left part of myself back there."

Sandler sipped his tea and looked out the window, a pensive look under his glasses.

"I guess in a way, I kind of did."


So there you go. I'm getting to it now! If the review numbers are any indication, my quality has been slipping – so I've finally managed to lengthen the chapters and I hope to bring my standards up a little more! XD

(Remember that I have never seen war, so I apologise if there are any inaccuracies in how I portray Roy's opinion.)

REVIEW RESPONSES (I can't even remember who I responded to already, so please bear with me *sweats*):

TheColfireAlchemist: Hooray! I love referencing that OVA too, as you can see…

Spidey19: Yes… Yes… tumblr screwed with our minds.

Candy thief: Why thank you! I'm glad you like them! :3

Blazingfyres: Thanks. I'm glad you found the 'love' part plausible. I was worried about it…

Also, is anyone apart from me excited for the English dub of 'Free!'? (Probably not.) It was great in the sub, so I really hope they do alright with it. (Also I totally called J. Michael Tatum as Rei. XD)

Hope to see you again next chapter! Thank you for all the positive feedback, you amazing people!