Author's notes: Yay! I got this posted quicker then I though! Okay…I feel like I'm losing Roy's character, and that he's becoming sort of muted and not as Royish as he could be. I guess this is what comes of constantly rewriting stuff for him…I hope I didn't screw it up too badly, and I'll try to bring back his character more in later chapters…And of couse: a big thank you to everybody who's been reading and/or reviewing!

Mustang stirred his soup again. 'What now?' He wondered. Where was he supposed to go from here? Things were dragging out far too long to be a dream, he should have woken up hours ago. He wasn't even sure he wanted to wake up anymore; it'd mean losing Hughes again. 'But Hawkeye will be there…' He thought with a pang. Going home meant getting her back, but losing his best-friend. One could almost go as far to say that it was equivalent exchange…

"What happened to…them?" Mustang addressed his bowl of soup. Looking at Hughes hurt too much, knowing that he'd as good as killed him…

Even though he had been vague, Hughes knew who Roy was asking about. "The police took care of – uh - everything." He explained, his voice filled with sympathy. "The woman…Was she your wife?"

"What makes you think that?" Roy asked flatly, now examining the bamboo try with great interest.

"Well - she was wearing a ring, and I found you laying next to her…" He looked expectantly, watching Mustang's face for some sign that his guess was right.

"No. She was married to…the other man." Roy felt a surge of jealously at the mention of Tony. He didn't deserve Riza, he'd only hurt her. Why couldn't she have married someone nicer, someone who'd truly loved her?

Hughes nodded understandingly. "Then you were her lover - caught in a fatal confrontation with her husband?"

"No…I was –" What was his relationship with Riza? Were they friends? Friends didn't call each other 'Colonel' and 'Lieutenant'… "I was just…I just…knew her." He finished awkwardly.

"Then why did it come to such a drastic end?" Hughes asked, he tone suspicious. He obviously didn't believe Mustang.

"Her husband was jealous…" Mustang grumbled, becoming annoyed at Maes' failure to understand.

"Oh, so you were just an innocent friend in the wrong place at the wrong time?" He asked.

"Yeah." Mustang nodded.

"Like her bedroom in the middle of the night?"

"No."

"And her husband came in after working late at the office?"

"No."

"He found the two of you. Then in a jealous rage, dragged you both from the house and-"

"NO!!!" Roy didn't know how it happened. He hadn't meant to shout. His bowl of soup went sailing halfway across the room, landing with a dull thud and the sound of shattering glass as the china broke. He and Hughes both stared at the mess in silence.

"I'm sorry." Both apologized at the same time.

"Sorry." Mustang said again. "It was – I shouldn't have…"

Hughes looked at his feet. "No…I guess this was my fault." He smiled sadly. "Gracia always says I have a way of getting under people's skin about things like that."

"Sorry." Roy apologized once more, not for his outburst, but for something else he'd done, something he'd wanted to say since Hughes had died. Saying sorry made him feel a little better, even if Maes didn't understand.

Hughes bent to pick up the pieces of broken glass.

"Let me." Mustang protested, scrambling from the bed to help him. In his hast his leg became tangled in the sheets and he toppled to the floor, landing hard on his right arm.

"Umph!" He let out a strangled cry.

Hughes, forgetting the spilled soup, rushed to his side and helped him up slowly. "Easy! What were you doing? You're supposed to be resting!"

"I can fix it though…" Mustang reached out in vain for the shattered glass strewn across the floor. "I'm an alchemist."

Maes raised an eyebrow. "I know a little about this alchemy business, and you can't transmute anything with an arm bandaged up like that." He helped Roy back into bed and threw the blankets back over him. "Just leave it. You don't have to fix everything. Sometimes it's better just to pick up the pieces and accept it." He paused for a second, and then smiled. "Now enough of all this gloom! I know just the thing to cheer you up!" He reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out a glossy photograph. "This is my daughter Elicia! Isn't she the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

Roy leaned in to see a little girl dressed in a ruffled dress smiling widely. The sight made him feel sick with guilt, knowing that the child would have to grow up without a father because of him. Who would be there to walk her down the aisle at her wedding? He forced a pained smiled and leaned back.

Hughes – blissfully unaware that Roy was drowning in guilt – pulled out another picture. "And this is her at – "

Gracia appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were red and puffy as if she'd been crying.

"Maes…" She whispered, her voice shaking slightly.

Hughes turned from his pictures. "Honey?" He set the photos down on the bed next to Roy and walked to the doorway where she stood, wrapping his arms around her. She sagged limply in his embrace, like a giant rag doll.

"That was the hospital on the phone…" She said softly.

Even from the other side of the small room, Mustang could see fresh tears forming in her eyes.

"Did you tell them he was awake and seemed to be doing alright?" Hughes asked.

Gracia shook her head. "It – it wasn't about him…" She cast a nervous glance in Mustang's direction, then looked back at Maes. "It was about you."