It was early evening and it was getting cold. The brisk autumnal wind smeared the blush-pink clouds across the darkening sky like wet paint and bit into Maes in spite of his heavy jacket. He shivered a little, but smiled nonetheless at the thought of approaching winter. Winter was his favorite season. He loved snow. He loved the way that the icicles hung from the rooftops, glistening in the blue morning light. He loved curling up on the couch with his wife and daughter, all three of them huddled together under a big wool blanket as they listened to the fire whispering in the hearth.

Maes sighed and smiled again, beginning to cross Roy's simple front lawn. Roy, however, hated winter. He always got so bitchy during the colder seasons... then again, Maes got pretty bitchy himself when it got too hot out, so he couldn't exactly fault him for it. Roy had always thrived in heat. During the Ishbal campaign, he had been one of the few soldiers that never complained about the sweltering afternoon temperatures of those terrible deserts. It never seemed to touch him, as if he were the sun itself. That had even become one of the many, many nicknames given to him during that fated insurgence: "The Sun". Several enlisted men and even a few officers called him that name behind his back. He was The Sun because he played with fire, because he was a bright, shining beacon of power, and because—in that scorching, hot-as-hell, drought-ravaged country—everyone both feared and hated him.

If only those men could see him the way Maes saw him, they would understand that his blazing light—while breathtaking and intimidating—was not as blistering as it looked from the outside. Roy was a good person and always had been. If his care for Edward showed anything, it was that he was capable of being kind and gentle when he wanted to be... and sometimes when he didn't want to be.

The psychology of Roy Mustang was a curious thing.

Last night after getting off of work, Maes had called Roy for an update on Ed. Maes hadn't been able to talk to Roy after his horrifying discovery about the boy's imprisonment until yesterday evening, but he'd been thinking about it all day, his stomach twisting into sorrowful knots. Maes had tried calling a few times earlier in the day yesterday, but Roy didn't pick up the phone until Maes had already gotten home from work. Roy told him about Ed's reaction to being confronted with his recent past, but he didn't go into much detail and Maes didn't ask for further exposition; there were some things that he didn't need to know and Roy made that clear in the cold, clipped way that he'd delivered the information. Maes had wanted to come back over last night, but Roy refused him, saying that Edward probably wouldn't want anyone else around at the moment.

And so, unhappy but knowing that Roy was probably right, Maes had stayed away until now. He'd just gotten off of work and desperately wanted to check on both Roy and Ed. Maybe it was the father in him that made him so clingy to his friends, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to be sure that they were okay. He wanted to fix their hurts and make everything better... and the horrible, saddening, frustrating thing was that he couldn't in this case. He couldn't fix either of them.

Maes clenched his jaw and raised his hand to knock on Roy's door, then changed his mind and decided to just go in without knocking. The door was unlocked and he opened it slowly, poking his head in to look toward the living room.

Roy was on the couch, absorbed in a book; probably one of the texts that Tucker had written, considering the studious expression on his face. He looked tired. He looked so tired. Maes knew that the man would never admit it, but seeing Ed like this was taking a toll on him... not to mention the physical strain he was still under from the transmutation two days ago. He swore that he felt better and had that both he and Ed had slept well last night, but it was clear to see that Roy needed more than just a good night's sleep to heal him.

"You tired?" Roy asked suddenly, setting down his book. Maes started, pulled from his bleak musings, but then realized that Roy wasn't talking to him.

"Little..." Ed replied groggily. Maes hadn't seen him before because he was lying on the other side of Roy, stretched out on the sofa. His head was resting on Roy's thigh and Roy's hand was on his brow, absently stroking his hair back from his face. The sight was both heartwarming and painfully sad.

"Your pills are probably kicking in. I'll take you to bed after the transmutation."

Ed grunted noncommittally, snuggling closer. Roy let him, valiantly pretending that Ed's closeness wasn't making him uncomfortable, though Maes could see clearly that it was. He just sighed softly and went back to his book.

Maes smiled to himself, then came fully inside and shut the door loud enough so that they could hear him. Roy jumped, startled by the sound and nearly dropped his book. Ed raised his head sleepily, looked at him for a moment, and then lowered back down onto Roy's lap. Roy, however, glanced up at Maes guiltily, looking as if he'd just been caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing.

Roy was weird like that; while he really could be a kind and caring person at times, he seemed to think that showing fondness for anyone was a weakness and so tended to avoid it at all costs. Maes rolled his eyes and walked over to them, removing his jacket.

"I wasn't expecting you until later," Roy mumbled, pushing Ed off of him so that he could stand. Ed didn't seem to mind much and just shifted a little so that he was lying in the warm spot that Roy had just vacated.

Maes shrugged, unable to suppress a grin at his friend's awkwardness. "I decided to come straight from work."

"I can see that."

Roy led Maes into the kitchen and offered him some coffee, which Maes gratefully accepted. It didn't matter what time of day it was, you could always count on Roy Mustang to have coffee brewing.

"So how is he doing?" Maes asked, more serious now.

"Better. A lot better. But it was rough there for a little while. He was... very upset."

"I can imagine..."

"No. You can't. It's unimaginable," Roy whispered dangerously. "Don't pretend to understand what he's going through, because you can't. I can't."

Maes took a sharp breath, wounded by the abrupt serrated edge in his friend's voice. Roy blinked and looked away apologetically as if just realizing what he'd said.

"...Sorry," he sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "I don't mean to take it out on you. I just... I just wish you had been here yesterday... I didn't know what to do."

"I offered to come over, Roy..." Maes told him gently, heart clenched to see his stoic façade broken, even if only for a moment. "I would have come..."

"I know... I know that. I thought I could handle it. But I just didn't know what to say to him... What the fuck was I supposed to say to him?"

"I'm sure you did everything that you could..."

"I did. But it just wasn't enough. He needs more from me than I can give him, and—" Roy cut off suddenly and took a long pull at his coffee as if to fortify himself. "I'm sorry," he said again after a moment, more quietly.

"It's okay, Roy," Maes tried to soothe him, gripping his shoulder, "It's okay to need to vent a little. I know this is hard for you..."

"I'm fine," Roy said dismissively, rolling his shoulders back and straightening. The momentary breach in his callous exterior had sealed itself and he was once again the cold, solid rock that he always pretended to be. Maes grimaced inwardly at that; the last thing Roy needed right now was to close himself off, especially since he was clearly so upset. It was a rare thing for Roy to show his true feelings—even to Maes—so the fact that he lapsed into frantic melancholy to readily meant that he was suffering even more than he was letting on.

Maes bit his lip, but didn't say anything on the matter. When Roy was ready to vent again, he would, and no amount of coaxing was going to make him open up any faster.

"...But he's doing better?" Maes ventured, looking away.

"Yeah. He ate without protest today, which is good," Roy began, clearing his throat, "He's just been sleeping off and on all day."

"Did Al call again? You said he might."

Roy nodded. "I told him about Edward's canine limbs and we agree that we should just leave them alone for the time being. Once he's back to normal, we'll let him decide if he wants to have them amputated. Though I can't really see why he wouldn't want them amputated..."

"It's for the best, I suppose... So were you going to try another transmutation tonight?"

"I was planning on it. I wanted to wait for you to get here, just in case something happens. I think that I have everything set right this time, though, so I'm not foreseeing any problems. I was very thorough."

"Then I guess that we should get started before Ed falls asleep on us," Maes said, peeking at Edward over Roy's shoulder. Roy turned to look at the dozing boy and sighed softly.

"I guess so," he agreed, "I gave him his pain pills already; his hips and shoulders have been really bothering him all day... but hopefully the drugs in his system will help relax him during the transmutation."

"Ah, speaking of drugs..." Maes said, rummaging in his pocket, "I went to the hospital and tossed your name around a little until someone gave me this..."

He pulled out a small, clear vial of liquid and handed it to Roy. Roy took it curiously, then gave his friend a broad smile as he read the label.

"Morphine. Maes, you're a saint. I can start him on this tomorrow. He'll feel so much better..."

"Hold on a second, though. That's only for emergencies; morphine is nothing to play around with," Maes cautioned, pulling something else from his pocket.

"I'm not stupid, Maes," Roy frowned, "I know how to handle morphine. And it's not like I'm going to be injecting it. I told you, it'll be diluted and oral."

"I know, but I thought this might be better for him... I don't want him to be on morphine more than he has to be."

Roy took the rattling bottle of pills that Maes offered him and looked at it skeptically, "Codeine? But he's already on codeine."

"I know that, too. This is a much higher dosage, though. They gave me this after I had my appendix taken out, but I hated taking it because it made me all loopy. It'll work, believe me... and it's safer than morphine."

Roy sighed and looked at the two bottles in his hands, "Fine. I'll only use the morphine when the pain gets really bad."

"That's all I ask."

Roy put both medicines in the cabinet and went back out into the living room. After a little coaxing, Maes and Roy managed to get Ed off of the couch and led him down into the basement. Ed's grogginess wore off almost immediately as he started down the stairs, adrenaline and renewed fear battling against the sedatives in his bloodstream. Maes was very proud of the kid at that moment. What courage it must take to come back down here to the transmutation circle, after everything that he'd been through at the hands of alchemists and even—to a much lesser extent—Roy himself. And yet Ed still followed them down without complaint, even though he knew the pain that awaited him at the bottom. Even changed as he was, Ed still had a spirit to be reckoned with and Maes' heart swelled to see it so unfazed.

The transmutation circle was much smaller than it had been before and the stone pen had been likewise contracted to hug it's perimeter. Maes still did not like the idea of Ed having to be caged in such a way during the transmutation, but he certainly understood the reasons for it being there. If the transmutation was to work, Edward had to stay in the circle, no matter how much pain he was in. The instinct of self-preservation could make him to want to escape from it and Roy couldn't risk that with such a delicate operation. Thus, the cage was still necessary.

"Go on, Edward," Roy ordered him quietly, "In the circle."

Ed hesitated very briefly, then gave Roy a quick, searching look and plodded toward the opening in the pen. He went inside and Roy closed the little door.

"Perhaps you should lie down," the alchemist suggested when he immediately started pacing around his enclosure, the anxiety coursing through him too much to handle standing still. Once again, Ed gave him that odd, appraising look as if battling against distrust but then lowered himself down onto the circle and closed his eyes, waiting.

"Thank you. Now brace yourself."

Roy's hands moved in to touch the circle. His fingers trembled very slightly, the only thing that gave away the fact that he, too, was nervous about this transmutation. It was striking to see the typically confident man doubt himself even a little and it intensified Maes' own unease tenfold. But no... he knew what he was doing.

This time.

The circle began to glow slowly, pulsing brighter at a steady but gentle pace. Tiny lightening-bolts of power danced around Ed's body and he gave a muffled grunt in response to the activated alchemy. He closed his eyes even more tightly and curled in on himself, trying to bear the pain as best he could.

Roy was watching him closely, looking ready to pull back if he saw any sign that he needed to. After a short, calculating pause, he pushed forward a little bit and the circle brightened further. Ed bit back a yelp and staggered to his feet, unable to just hold still in the face of his deepened pain. Roy took his hands from the circle in response, knowing that he'd gone just a little too far. The light around Edward died and Roy straightened.

"Well, that's it, then," he told him, moving to open the door, "We're done for the night."

Ed was shaking badly, panting and clearly in a great deal of discomfort, but he didn't look anywhere near as bad as he had last time. He raised his head blearily to look at Roy.

"That's it?" he repeated between pained breaths.

Roy smiled, "Yeah. That's it, kid. See? It wasn't as bad as last time, was it?"

Ed gave his tail a tiny, affirmative wag and exited the pen. "Bed now?" he asked, butting his head against Roy's leg pleadingly. True, this transmutation had been nothing compared to the last one—almost a little anti-climactic in a way—but it had still taken a great deal out of Ed. He trembled with exhaustion.

"Bed now," Roy agreed, then bent down and collected Ed in his arms.

Back upstairs, he carried Edward into the bedroom and put him down on the bed gently while Maes stood in the doorway, watching them. Ed snuggled down into the softness of the bed and Roy tossed the blankets over him. Roy looked pleased with himself, in spite of Edward's obviously intensified pain. The transmutation had worked well; not as dramatically as the first, to be sure... but still; this was progress.

This was going to work. This was just the first of many steps, but those steps were clearly in the right direction.

"...Colonel bed, too?" Ed asked sleepily, his brow furrowed with pain.

"Sure, kid. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

"'Kay..."

He closed his eyes and Roy moved away from him to leave the room, but then stopped dead when he saw Maes hovering in the doorway, smiling.

"...What?" he asked after a beat, brushing past him coldly.

"I didn't say anything," Maes grinned, trailing after him into the front room. Roy sat down on the couch and Maes joined him, sitting back with a smirk. "I just can't understand why you don't want kids."

"Oh please, Maes..."

"Seriously, you could be great with them. Have you not noticed the way that you treat Edward now? I've never seen this side of you."

"Look. He's been through a lot. I'm just trying to help him as best I can; don't look so far into it."

"You care a lot for him, Roy. I know you do."

"Yeah, I do, so what?" he demanded, suddenly angry, "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, of course not," Maes said quickly, shifting on the couch to face him, "I think it's great. Really. I just can't understand why you're always trying to hide it, even from me."

Roy stared at him, then looked away and settled himself back against the couch.

"I don't want to get too close to him."

"Why?"

"I... I don't know..." he rasped, shifting uncomfortably.

"Roy, you know that you can always talk to me..."

He sighed, bowing his head, "It's just... it... it hurts, Maes. To see him like this. And there is nothing I can do," he looked up, his dark eyes suddenly filled with grief, "I'm helpless. Useless. I proved that yesterday, didn't I? He needed someone to be there for him and I just walked away..."

"Oh, come on, Roy. You said that he attacked you, you couldn't be expected to—"

"Alphonse wouldn't have left him alone like that, no matter what he threatened! You wouldn't have, either. You would have stayed and let him beat the shit out of you if it meant that he wasn't alone. And what did I do? I skulked down into the basement with my tail between my legs, half of me hoping that he would just kill himself and be done with it!"

"Roy..." Maes breathed, appalled and saddened beyond expression.

"And you'd dare insinuate that I would make a good father?" his voice cracked and he had to pause a moment to collect himself. "You're delusional. Completely insane."

He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch. He took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. "I'm sorry," he said for the third time that night. "I just want to help him, Maes. That's all I want."

Maes hesitated then took Roy's hand in his own. "You are helping him. You're helping him more than anyone else can. What was that transmutation about if not helping him?"

"That's not the only kind of help he needs, though..." he said quietly, rolling his head to the side and opening his mournful eyes. "He needs emotional support, too."

"And you're giving it to him the best you know how. He's crazy about you. All he wants is for you to stay by his side, even I can see that."

Roy chose not to make any further comment and the two of them lapsed into silence. Maes looked at him critically, a thought occurring to him. Maybe it wasn't so much that Roy didn't want children... Maybe he did want them, desperately, but thought that he just shouldn't have them. Maybe he thought that he wasn't cut out for parenthood, that he wasn't good enough to be a father. Maybe he was afraid.

There were rare occasions—times like this when Roy's defensive shield had been lowered—that Maes could see what a truly sad, lonely person he was... and seeing that wound within him was unspeakably depressing.

"...I'm tired, Maes," Roy said abruptly into the quiet of the room, dismissing him, "I've had a long week."

"Well, that's the understatement of the year..." Maes smirked, trying to cover his own sorrow as he got to his feet, "Go get some sleep; the kid's waiting for you."

Roy looked over his shoulder toward the half-open doorway to the bedroom, "...Yeah."

"I'll be off then... Just try not to keep Ed up with your snoring."

"I don't snore," he snapped, shooting him a glare that had more amusement than malice behind it. "Why do you keep insisting that I snore?"

"Because it's true! Ask Ed."

"I don't snore!" Roy repeated, unable to keep a smile from curling the corner of his mouth.

"You do. I've heard you, my friend."

"Just leave already. Get out of my house, you liar."

"Alright, alright, I'm going," Maes laughed and flicked him a little wave before grabbing his jacket and letting himself out, leaving Roy on the couch to think over everything they had just talked about.

Maes pulled on his jacket and buttoned it tightly against the cold, his heart heavy and his mind full. Maybe Maes should try to stick around here more while Ed was healing. He could ask some time off of work, or perhaps request to be partnered with Colonel Mustang in this assignment of curing the Fullmetal Alchemist. Roy certainly seemed to need the help. Perhaps not with the alchemy part... but it seemed that the Sun could use a little "emotional support" of his own.

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It took Roy a long time to finally gather the courage to go back into the bedroom. His conversation with Maes had been both cathartic and thought provoking, but it hadn't made the feelings within him any easier to bear. Well, perhaps he just shouldn't think about them now.

He sighed to himself and crawled into bed. Ed was already asleep, curled on his side and facing away from Roy. Roy laid himself down next to him, then thought for a moment, staring at Edward's furry back. Slowly, so as not to wake him, Roy draped an arm over his sleeping form and buried his face into his coat. Ed gave a little squeak in his sleep and pressed back against his warmth, his desperation for contact transcending the bridge between wakefulness and slumber. Encouraged by that, Roy held him close and closed his eyes.

For the first time in many nights sleep came quickly, Ed's aura of taboo barely even felt.