Author's Notes: First thank you to dfgh and Butterfly Artist for your encouraging comments! They mean a lot! (Sorry for not replying, to you both sooner. didn't link to your account and I couldn't find you on the author search to reply to your comment sooner) I'm glad you both are reading and I promise all questions will be answered soon enough ;).

Again, sorry for such a long wait. Can you believe it's been over 3 years since the last chapter? Where have I been? I got horribly lost somewhere on the path of life and it took me a while to find my way back. Anyways, let's try and pick up where we left off and try to finish what we started. Hopefully my writing style hasn't changed too much in the last few yeas. If you're still with me from before (if any), please enjoy and review!

Previously, in the last chapter…

1) Present day Roy is still engaging in a violent relationship with a mysterious woman.

2) Wartime Roy is slowly recovering and regaining control over his fine motor skills. He continues to write Maes. It is becoming clear to him that alchemy cannot fix everything.

3) Military academy Roy is once again confronted by Peter. Despite finally standing up for himself, Roy resorts to using a powerful alchemy technique to defend Hughes and himself. While the transmutation was successful, the repercussions of the reaction are grave.

Chapter 10: Consequences

(Present day…)

Something was wrong. He didn't know what had gotten into her. She was being excessively forceful and rough with him tonight. Lately, she had been breaking the rules and striking him with closed fists even when Roy hadn't provoked her.

Suddenly, in mid-motion, she stopped undressing Mustang. She just sat there, on top of him, unmoving for a prolonged moment. As always, the room was dark and Roy could only hear and feel her heavy, steady breath.

Then, without warning, she grabbed him by the throat with both hands, squeezing hard. Mustang gasped and coughed, yet she pressed on. His eyes began to burn and tear. She was choking him! Instinctively, his body struggled, though frivolously, against her.

Finally, when his muscles fatigued and a thick haze had begun to overtake his mind, Roy suddenly stopped fighting. This. This is why he had continued on with her. His body became limp and he fell back against the mattress while his eyes stared back up at her, glassy.

The alchemist never imagined that the room could grow even darker but he could hardly make out her faint silhouette now. Strangely, a comforting scent entered the air. It smelled like the train car that one night…it smelled like Gracia's house…it was-

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his tingling lips.

A familiar voice came to him, "Let go, Roy."

Before Mustang could even respond, he suddenly gasped and took a large breath. Right before he had lost complete consciousness, she had released him. Jumping to her feet, she quickly buttoned her shirt back up as Roy, curled up on the bed, violently coughing. Before he had even caught his breath, she was gone again.

Roy's throat continued to burn.

(Years ago…At the Cathedral of the Blessed…)

The flame alchemist stared at the paper in front of him, his brow furrowed and a worried look on his face.

"Dear Maes," was all that was written on it.

(About 1 year ago… on a late night train...)

The train car was nearly empty that night. Roy stared blankly at his feet. Subconsciously, his right hand fingered the smooth hillocks of the burn scar down his neck, under the stiff collar of his Class A uniform.

"Are you happy now, old man?" the question looped in his mind over and over, again.

Earlier that day, at the hospital, Roy had stood quietly outside Peter's room. Through the small, square window in the door, the young alchemist watched and tried to fill in the words passing between the surgeon and Maes. The doctor had gestured widely with his hands, explaining to Hughes that Peter was alive but…but there were some complications during the surgery. Peter was still in critical condition. There was nothing else that could be done.

Hughes, tired and haggard, only hung his head and nodded.

After a while, Roy lowered his head as well and adjusted his Class A cap. He then turned and walked back down the hallway.

"Are you happy now, old man?" Roy squeezed his hands into fists as the train entered a dark tunnel.

(That afternoon...)

"Cadet Mustang!" The judge's voice was stern and abrupt.

Roy jumped, pushing the memory of Maes cradling Peter's limp body out of his mind. There was so much blood…

"Will you please step forward to appear before the Alchemy Review Committee," the loud voice continued.

Facing forward with a soldier's gaze, Roy stepped into the center of the courtroom. In front of him, across a long, raised judge's bench sat 8 severe looking state alchemists. At the end of the bench there was an empty seat. "Dr. R. Knightly, " The placard in front of the seat read.

"Cadet Mustang," the woman in the center of the bench spoke, "Is it true that you were once an alchemy pupil of Professor Brethold Hawkeye?"

"Yes Ma'm," as still as he could, Roy continued to hold his gaze.

"Then you should be perfectly aware of the 3rd pillar of Alchemy which is directly related to Law 3 of the Binding Rules and Regulations of State Alchemy. Would you please recite that before the board, Cadet?"

Roy inhaled deeply, trying to calm his nerves, "An Alchemist is a servant of the people. When in need, he shall protect them from injustice."

"Proceed onto Section B, Cadet."

"By no means, shall he ever use his knowledge of Alchemic Science to bring harm unto others."

"And Section C, Part 9."

"As dangerous repercussions may result, Alchemy may never be performed in public by State pupils of the Alchemic Sciences unless under direct supervision of a licensed State Alchemist."

"Cadet Mustang," the board woman removed her glasses, "your actions 1 week ago were not only in direct violation of State Alchemy Law but they were reckless and have nearly cost another young boy his life. Such lawless behavior is not and will never be tolerated by this board. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'm."

"Under usual circumstances, if you had actually sat for and placed in the Alchemy Placement Exam we would have immediately expelled you from the College of Alchemic Studies. At the level of your crime, it would have been a dishonorable discharge at that. However," her eyes narrowed, "you are not a State Alchemy student, are you, Cadet Mustang?"

The board director didn't wait for Roy to respond, "Dr. Knightly, who has voluntarily removed himself from this hearing, has told me that you are quite the exceptional Alchemy enthusiast. He also informed me that though you did not sit for the placement exam, you still plan to take the State Alchemy Exam. Is that so?"

"Yes, Ma'm."

There was a pause as the State Alchemy board members exchanged glances and mumbles with each other. Roy closed his eyes, his fingernails digging into his palms.

"Cadet Mustang," the head of the State Alchemy Board finally spoke, "due to your lawless activity and the nearly tragic outcomes, you have given this board no choice but to indefinitely bar you from ever taking the State Alchemy Exam."

Roy's eyes snapped open. Instantly, he dropped his rigid soldier's stance, his gaze becoming frantic as if it would stop his heart from sinking.

The woman continued, "Your actions do not exemplify what Alchemy stands for and we cannot foresee a future for you in it."

"No," at first, the young cadet's voice was but a whisper, "No! Please!"

"Cadet, you are not to speak freely unless granted permission to do—"

"Please don't take this away from me! It's all I have!" His voice began to waiver.

The thought of Maes and the severe look he gave the young alchemist when he finally let go of his brother suddenly entered Roy's mind. That night, the shine in Maes' golden eyes was gone.

"Mr. Mustang! Please contain yourself."

The young cadet grit his teeth and tried to straighten his stance once more, casting his gaze to his feet

"You should consider yourself lucky, Cadet. If it were not for Dr. Knightly vouching for your potential and asking for clemency, you would have been immediately arrested, imprisoned, and facing a criminal jury, instead. Had it been solely my decision, I would have turned you over to the Military Police without hesitation. However, this board of alchemists has decided differently. Its judgment is final and without exception. Do you understand?"

"Yes…" Roy said, barely audible. How it took all his strength to keep the sobs from escaping his lungs…

"This hearing is adjourned." Bang! She struck the gavel once.

(Later that night…)

"Are you happy now old man," Roy squeezed his eyes shut. The rattling of the train cars was especially loud in the tunnel, but it wasn't enough to drown out his thoughts.

It was just past midnight when the train finally pulled into the sleepy station. The snow had just started to fall when Roy stepped out onto the platform. He slung his heavy bag over his shoulder and buried his mouth into his scarf.

Though the cobbled streets were vacant, the endless memories of them busy and full, flooded back to him. The strongest ones were of course the most painful and somehow, nearly all of them involved Maes. Why couldn't he stop thinking about Maes?

Like the train on a set track, Roy's feet knew the way home. Despite the intensity of his recollections, Mustang continued on, hardly slowing and never stopping until—

At the end of the street, just beyond a white, cracked and peeling picket fence was a flame scarred and blackened house. For quite some time, Roy stood there, staring into the darkness of the house. A soft breeze tickled his ear. As if carried by the wind, Peter's hushed words came to him, "To this day, they never found out how the fire started or who set it... But I know...Wouldn't you like to know who did it too?"

Roy's eyes became sad again. Breaking his gaze from the charred rubble, he lowered his head.

Crreeaak! The small sound came from behind the young cadet. That door could always use some oil.

Pulling his scarf over his nose, Roy turned to see a soft silhouette outlined by warm light coming from within the opposite house.

"You're late," Riza said gently.

"It's good to see you, Riza." He didn't move until she smiled gently and gestured for him to come inside.

Inside, it was warm and like always smelled like cooking butter and cinnamon. Walking through the house, Roy brushed his fingertips along the wall feeling and remembering the cause of each knick and stain. His eyes also glanced into the different rooms. A small sigh of relief escaped his lungs when he came to his old room and spied his old alchemy table. Putting his bag down, the young alchemist touched the faded circle in the center of the desk that served as the center of many of his first alchemic reactions. Mustang smiled slightly. How much hope he had.

"Roy," Riza's voice came from the doorway, "Father will see you now."

Brethold's room was uncomfortably hot and the air had a sour stench to it. Gradually, timidly the young man took steps deeper into the dim, yellow room. It was crowded with stacks and scatters of old notes and cabinets full of dusty alchemy equipment. He could hardly make out the thin cachectic frame of the old man in bed and for a moment thought he may be too late until-

"So you're a dog of the military now are you?" a hoarse voice came from the bed of knotted sheets in the corner, "and you dare set foot in my house again?"

"Sensei..." Roy bowed low, "I'm sorry."

"You had so much potential for alchemy. And I foolishly treated you like a—" suddenly the haggard man's body wretched forward in a bout of violent coughs. The young soldier took a step forward but was halted when Brethold raised his hand, "St-stay away from me. I…I should have never… wasted…my time on you," catching his breath, the old teacher coughed and spat into a rag , "I should have let you burn and die an honored death with your family. Instead I-" the dusky old man began to cough and hack uncontrollably again.

"Sensei!" This time, Roy jumped to his teacher's bedside. For a prolonged moment, a deathly quiet settled across the room after the coughing had subsided and as the old alchemist gasped noisily for air.

Finally Mustang spoke, "Sensei, I'm sorry. Just as you had saved me from death, I thought that we could help people with alchemy and that it was unfair of you to withhold the benefits of its power from others. But you were right," The young boy's eyes began to burn. The thought of Maes' lifeless eyes pushed into his mind, "Nothing will ever be enough to save any of us."

Silence fell on the room again with Roy listening to each struggled breath of his old professor, expecting one of them to be the last one.

"You didn't know, did you?" Brethold finally wheezed, "I finally figured it out…after all these years…and I have perfected it. It's beautiful..."

"Just rest, Sir. Focus on your breathing." Roy wrapped his arm around the old man and tried to ease him back into bed.

"Roy," Brethold pulled the young alchemist in close. It was one of the very few times, he had ever said Roy's name without malice. "Forgive me, but you were never going to be my legacy. Riza. Keep her safe for me. Protect her. All that time I wasted on you, I should have spent with her."

The young man's sad eyes widened as the man's grip weakened. "Riza," the frail alchemist whispered, "Where is she? She…she holds all my secrets...m-my legacy."

"Sir?"

With each of the elder alchemist's fading breaths, bursts of distant memories flickered in his mind. The old man's soft yet direct teaching voice that he used for lectures at the blackboard; his gentle smile when Roy performed his first successful alchemic reaction; his firm, approving hand on Roy's shoulder. "Well done, Son."

When the old man's hand fell away from him limp, the tears in Roy's eyes finally overflowed and ran down Roy's face, "Sensei..."

...

Long after the funeral had ended, Roy stood at the foot the grave. Gently, he tried to brush the away the dark, dirt stains from his white pallbearer's gloves. A moment later, a long shadow with an umbrella appeared next to his.

"Riza," Roy looked up, "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you for everything you have done for us, Roy," she said.

The young soldier shook his head, "It's my fault though. Your father's lungs were never the same since he pulled me out of that fire." Subconsciously Roy's hand continued to rub out the mud stains as he spoke, "He died before his time. And because of me, because I decided to run away and join the military, his research, his life's work may never be realized."

"Roy…"

"My dreams were foolish. I thought that by joining the military I could become strong, that my alchemy could make the country strong, so I could protect those that I love. But I'm not strong enough. I've only made things worse and now not even the military will allow me to become a State Alchemist," the cadet's hands stopped moving, "Riza, I only hope that you will forgive me and that you will not hate me like your father did for my decision to become a worthless soldier."

"Roy," Riza placed her hand on his shoulder, "stop blaming yourself. My father was a man of few words, you know he wouldn't want you to dwell on his death." She gave his shoulder a slight squeeze, "Your dream isn't foolish. In fact it's quite honorable. If you don't mind, I may adopt your dream as well." The young soldier turned to face the young woman.

"My father was also quite stubborn," she continued, "He was so much that I don't think he realized that his dream and your's are one in the same."

"Riza," was all that Roy could say.

"I could never be the alchemist that father had wanted but I'll do everything that I can to make your dream come true, Roy."

The young cadet smiled mildly, "Thank you, Riza." She always knew what to say to him.

Gradually, almost naturally, Riza's hand gently took Roy's.

"Come," she said in a hushed voice, "I have to show you something."