I don't own FMA.

Broken - Roy Mustang

The first time Roy Mustang had laid eyes on Edward Elric, the boy had been a shell. His hair was lank around his face and his body was broken. He had been slumped in a chair, radiating a vicious anger at the injustice of the world.

And his eyes had been surrounded by bruise-like bags that had been so large they made his eyes look sunken.

Roy tapped the crumpled stack of papers on his desk as he strained his eyes to read the words. Behind the report, Edward was fidgeting on his the couch, waiting for him to finish. This may have only been the seventh time Ed had been in this situation, but by this point Roy had already learned that Ed was loud. Right now, he was being entirely too quiet. Which could be easily fixed. "It astounds me, Fullmetal, how thoroughly you encrypt your reports. Tell me, do you intentionally write like a five year old, or is it an unconscious attempt to act the age you appear?" And Roy waited for the inevitable explosion that would follow.

Nothing.

"Could it be that you have finally accepted your reduced height?" Still no reaction. Roy let the papers flop onto his desk as he glanced at the twelve-year-old brat, to make sure he hadn't fallen asleep. He was definitely awake, and he was sending a half-hearted glare at his commanding officer. But his eyes were dull and the lids were drooping. He didn't seem to appreciate the interest that his commanding officer had just taken in him.

"Are you finished with the damn report, Bastard?" He was obviously going for a reaction, but the words were almost slurred, the kid looked so tired, and Roy was far too invested in that to care about words he had heard a hundred times before. Besides, at this point it looked like Ed was about to tip over. Why was he so tired? He had returned from the mission yesterday, so no matter how draining it might have been, he should have had at least one full night's rest under his belt.

"Fullmetal, are you so cavalier about your health that you do not feel the need to sleep? You are a member of the military, and could be called on at any moment. If you would perhaps deign to take at least enough care of yourself that you are able to carry out your responsibilities-." It was at this point that Roy noticed his subordinate had fallen asleep, right there on the couch. He was slumped to the side, legs still on the floor, with his back twisted at an angle that would hurt when he woke up.

He looked so much younger that way. Probably because his eyes had been hidden. Fullmetal had eyes that always looked like they were burning from the inside. Determination and power blazed there in a way that made it difficult to think of him as a child. Now that he was asleep, however, the boy looked even younger than his twelve years. Just a little kid, who had played until he collapsed from exhaustion.

Exhaustion marked by the thumbprint bruises under his eyes, left by consecutive nights of almost no sleep.

Roy glanced at the report again, to see if perhaps this had been an emotionally traumatizing mission, but it seemed that for once everything had gone exactly the way it was supposed to. Fullmetal had traveled to the small farming town and rerouted one of the nearby rivers to solve their drought. Impressive, yes, but not the sort of thing that should bring on insomnia.

So. Perhaps he had just stayed up too late talking to his brother. It must happen here and there, considering the fact that Alphonse was incapable of sleep. Still, it could hardly hurt to let the boy rest just a little longer. He had no pressing assignments available, and Edward would have a week or two at least to spend researching a way to heal himself and his brother.

Roy returned to his work.

It had been just over ten minutes when his focus (if you could really call it that, he had been doodling a very detailed picture of a border collie in the margin of some form on fire safety regulations) was diverted. The child on his couch was beginning to breathe more rapidly than before, until he was almost hyperventilating. Slightly concerned, Roy got to his feet and began to move toward the couch, but before he got there, Edward shot into a sitting position, with a strangled scream clamped between his teeth.

For a moment, the kid looked like a rabid animal, eyes whirling in their sockets as they struggled to place his location. Roy wisely paused his approach, and allowed Ed to take stock of his surroundings. When he realized where he was, it came with a sudden snap into character, as he tried to play off whatever had just happened.

"Hmm. Figured it was just a matter of time before your damn babbling sent me to sleep." It was impressive, really, how quickly he could throw a nonchalant attitude over his panic. Even now, as he stumbled slightly from a head rush and simple tiredness, the boy was clambering to his feet. Impressive, and distantly upsetting, because it spoke of extensive experience with this situation and that probably explained the bags under his eyes. "I'm going back now, and you owe Al 'n me at least two weeks off."

He moved toward the door.

Roy considered for a moment, the possibility of stopping him. Of calling him back and asking him to explain himself. But that was really not his place in the boy's life, and it was already fairly clear that the kid was not looking for a replacement father figure. Fullmetal had been through a whole mountain of shit. It was expected that he might occasionally struggle to sleep.

Surely the problem would soon pass.

Roy supposed that there was really no one else to blame but himself. How could you hold someone like Hughes responsible for the torture when it was just a part of who he was? Roy had figured that out within the first few days of friendship, and had practically invited this sort of treatment when he had not run as fast as he could in the other direction.

"And here she is on her first birthday! She hardly ate any of the cake, of course, just spread it all over her face! But doesn't she just look like a little angel? Oh! And here she is opening her presents. We had to help her with the wrapping paper, and she liked the boxes more than the actual gifts, but it was still wonderful to see her smile!"

The scratchy elastic cord of the sparkly pink party hat was cutting in behind his ears, and Roy figured he was already halfway to a good migraine. There were small pink handprints of icing on the leg of his pants, but he could not even summon rage. There was just a sighing resignation. Elicia, for her part, had gone to bed a half hour ago, at the close of her forth birthday party. Maes and Gracia had invited a few children her age, along with most of the men under Colonel Mustang's command. Havoc had stopped in to drop off a present a few hours ago, but had been off to meet a girl and hadn't stayed for long. Fuery and Breda had stayed until Elicia had gone to bed, and then had excused themselves, with Falman trailing after them. The most recent departure had been Hawkeye's, as the woman had an uncanny ability to predict when photo albums were about to come out.

Colonel Mustang had fallen victim to the temptation of good whiskey and conversation between old friends, only to be caught off guard when the pictures arrived. It was down to himself, Maes, and Gracia, two of them happily paging through a photo album while the third watched on in detached horror.

A loud snore rent the air, and Roy amended his earlier list of remaining people to include Fullmetal.

The kid had shown up an hour late, clutching a hastily-wrapped gift to his chest. One look at his face and Roy had considered wheeling in a stretcher to catch him when he inevitably collapsed. Ed was dead on his feet, with the reoccurring shadows carved deep under his eyes. Gracia had tried at first to question him, her maternal instincts demanding it, but Ed had grown so flustered and confused with her motherly actions that she had been forced to beat a retreat and watch worriedly from the sidelines.

The gift had been a huge book, at a reading level held by many students graduating high school, but Ed had not seemed to think anything of it, and at that point no one had the heart to point out the mistake. When most of the children invited to the party left, Elicia had stayed up for another few minutes, playing with Edward. It would have been a heartwarming scene if the boy hadn't looked like he was going to pass out at any moment.

Within moments of Gracia's removal of Elicia to her bed, Ed had slumped over on the floor, asleep. When Gracia had returned, she took one look at him and went to grab a blanket and pillow, clucking her tongue as she tucked the teenage soldier in.

He had already been snoring like a chainsaw, but Roy couldn't help but think back on the last time he had seen Ed with circles this dark. It was a fairly regular thing, in that once every couple months, there would be a week or so where Edward shuffled from place to place like a zombie. The kid would guzzle down the office's coffee (which anyone with sense avoided like the plague) and struggle to focus on anything for more than a few seconds. It always happened during times when there was no logical reason for him to look like that, but before anyone had a chance to sit down and talk to him about it, Fullmetal would be sent off on another mission, or face one of the common setbacks toward his goal.

The next time they saw him, he would be well-rested again (or, as well-rested as he ever was, the boy would still spend hours researching, so that a day would pass and he wouldn't even notice).

But this was the first time he had actually fallen asleep in this state in front of Roy since that day in his office two years ago. Even now, he could hear as the snoring faded out, quickened breathing taking its place. Maes noticed Roy's distraction, and soon he and his wife were also staring at the figure on the floor.

To see him once again shoot upright, gasping for breath and with the beginnings of tears stumbling out of his eyes.

Gracia was there in a second.

"Is everything okay, Ed?" And unlike when Roy had tried that, Ed seemed to take kindly to her presence. Or, at least, he didn't push her away when she went to sit on the ground next to him. He simply sat there, face flushed as he gasped for breath. "Do you want to talk about it? That can do a world of good." Her hand had taken up a small circular pattern on his back, but Ed shook his head and struggled for words.

"I don't-. I can't-. It's not just something you can…talk about. I don't want to…put that on you."

"I think you'll find that there isn't much we haven't already seen." That was Maes, piping up from his seat at the table but keeping a good distance.

"You haven't seen…It's not…" The kid grabbed at his hair in frustration, but then seemed to come to a realization that laced his voice with dread. "Mustang?"

And that was not at all what Roy had expected. He had figured that Ed did not want his commanding officer to see him like this, and had been trying his best to remain unnoticed as the whole scene played out.

"Yes, Fullmetal?"

The name seemed to ground Ed a little bit more, though that had not really been Roy's intention, and he felt undeserving of the grateful smile Gracia sent his way.

"In your research…You ever heard someone mention the Gate?" The golden eyes were searching Roy's face intently, though they relaxed the second he did not show an immediate reaction. Apparently, that was answer enough. "Never mind." And now he was back to addressing Maes. "Maybe you haven't seen everything."

And then, as if he hadn't just said something ridiculously cryptic and had an emotional breakdown on the floor of the apartment, the Fullmetal Alchemist gathered his composure and stood up. When he started for the door, Roy was worried that that would be it. But the boy turned back to the room at large, eyes focused on the floor as he scuffed one black boot along the edge of a rug.

"Thanks, you know, for the food n' stuff. Tell Elicia I had fun." And then he whirled around and slammed the door behind him. The room sat in silence as three adults listened to the hasty clatter of combat boots running down the stairs.

Needless to say, the three were up for a while after that.

It was really not the day for this.

Roy wasn't sure exactly what higher power it was that was laughing at him right now, but he hypothesized that it was some combination of all of them. How else could they have crafted such an exquisitely painful situation? He had served his time in Ishbal. Hadn't that been enough?

"Sir, there are two hours left in the work day. You need to start on your paperwork." When had Riza come in the room?

"Riza," and his voice was a growl against the sleek wood of his desk. "I swear above and below, I will set fire to your gun cabinet if you do not leave me in peace."

She, of course, remained entirely unfazed. "Sir, you knew this would happen. It's just a hangover. Do the paperwork."

Roy let out a groan and allowed one of his arms to drape over his face, hoping it would block out some of the world's light. "No, it's not a hangover. I am dying. And if I have to do work then I will actually die and you'll be left with even more paperwork." It wouldn't work (this sort of thing never worked on Hawkeye), but that did not stop Roy from hoping.

"Perhaps a change of pace would help you feel better, sir?" And yes, thank everything that was good, for once it looked like his First Lieutenant would take pity on him.

"Yes," and he was already hauling himself to his feet, headed toward one of the soft couches. "Change of pace. A nap."

"No, sir. Edward is here to see you." It took a second for the words to process in Roy's brain, but by the time he had managed to decide exactly how he was going to communicate to Hawkeye the extent to which that would not be happening, she took the action into her own hands. "I'll just show him in."

"Wait!" And he really meant to yell it, but it came out from his throat more like a croak. A useless croak, as he realized in a panic that she had already left, and that Ed was probably already on his way over. In an internal frenzy that made his head ring, Roy struggled off the couch and moved to sit behind his desk once again. Or, at least, he tried to. It wasn't until he felt the rough carpet scratching against his cheek that he realized he hadn't been entirely successful. When had the leg of the table moved to the center of the room again? He could feel the migraine press in.

"Smooth."

Ah. So this humiliation was not enough. Of course there would be an audience. Of course the audience would be Ed.

But then again, he was the commanding officer. He could give an order from anywhere he damn well pleased. No need to actually get up when it would inevitably lead to further humiliation. "Can I help you, Fullmetal?"

"Can't hear when y'talk through carpet." The words were all a bit snappish and dulled for Ed, and there was a clench of dread in Roy's stomach. Because there was no way that today was that awful. He did not have time to deal with this.

Sure enough, when he raised his head from the floor, Ed was slumped into one of the couches, the predicted bags under his eyes. The strength was slowly draining out of Roy's arms, but he hoisted himself up to lean against the front of his desk, facing the kid.

"I asked what you needed." Ed reacted slightly to that, raising his golden eyes from the floor to his CO.

"A mission. Just give me a mission." That was a first.

"Aren't you usually begging for more time here to research?" The conversation was slowly revitalizing Roy, though he knew it would only be temporary.

"Shouldn'ta said anything if you were just gonna be a smug bastard about it."

"Ed, it's your time off. If you're at a loss for what to do, just rest. You clearly need it."

The teenager in question muttered something under his breath and kicked out at the table pettily.

"What was that?"

"I said that I can't."

"Can't what?" And holy hell it was like pulling teeth, getting a straight answer out of Ed.

"Rest! I can't rest, okay? We're at a dead-end with our research and we need information we don't have and I just need to do something."

It didn't take long for Roy to put the pieces together, as he cast a critical eye over his subordinate and recalled the past few times he had seen him like this.

"Is it the Gate?"

Ed made a strange sort of choking noise and bent at the waist, breathing hard, as though he had been struck. For a moment, just a moment before he could wrangle his expression back under control, an emotion flashed across his face. And Roy knew that emotion, was intimately familiar with it, because he felt it on his own face when he was out for a walk and saw a man frantically taking pictures or fawning over his daughter. The sight would almost drive Roy to his knees as he foughtfoughtfought to not think about it. Not right then. It was the shock that came along with having a trauma shoved in your face in a place where you had thought you were away from any reminders.

But, the Gate? It certainly did not sound like a very intimidating thing (event? person?). Even if it was vastly more traumatizing than it sounded, how could it still be wreaking this much havoc on Edward's life?

"Shut the hell up." It looked as though Ed had regained his breath, if not his composure. Normally, the words would have been shouted across the room, Ed a towering pillar of rage. Instead they fell, crumpled and rough onto the floor of the office, as if his mouth had wadded them up before spitting them out. "Just, shut up. You don't know."

"Why do you want a mission, Ed?" And he kept the words gentle, because he wasn't sure just how he had screwed up, but he had most definitely screwed up. "Just tell me why and I'll see what I can do."

For a moment, there was a panicked glint that flitted across the boy's face, and Roy worried that he would run out of the office without answering. But after a second, Ed let out a sigh that seemed to hold the grief of ten lifetimes and slouched into the couch so thoroughly that Roy had trouble seeing him from his seat on the floor.

"I get…nightmares. About…you know. And it happens sometimes anyway but it never stops happening when I'm not doing anything and our research isn't working and if I don't do something soon I'm going to go insane."

A small part of Roy's mind wondered if the boy hadn't already, and the rest was off somewhere else, so that his body ran on autopilot as he fished out a mission file for the Fullmetal Alchemist (he'd been holding off on giving it to him, so that there would be more time for research). The kid grabbed it out of his hands and shuffled out of his office, no longer the swaggering brat that normally filled a room with his presence. Roy knew that that would change by the time Ed returned, but it was too late to take back what he had seen: he had seen the shattered kid underneath the act.

He slumped back over onto the floor and let the migraine do as it wished.

Months later, Roy found himself in the plane of space, so white it burned. Months later, Roy turned slowly about, and saw the strange, static figure before him, watched as it grinned in a way that made his heart clench. Months later, Roy looked beyond the figure, to the overpowering Gate beyond.

The Gate opened, and black, reaching hands pulled him in.

The Gate pulled him apart, atom by atom, splitting his head open, toying with his pitiful resistance.

The Gate shoved him back together, cramming foreign memories into his mind that grated against the old ones.

The Gate laughed.

And Roy understood the broken, choking boy on his couch, who had faced this when he was eleven.

He fell through space, and images flashed around him. He could see everything.

The Gate spit him out.

And he saw nothing.

AN: This one actually took forever, because Roy Mustang is the light of my life and I wanted to do him perfectly. I'm still not totally happy, but I am content. I've had this one in my head for a while now. I feel like more attention should be given to the fact that Mustang was actually forced to open the Gate and lose his sight. That'll screw you up.

Let me know what you guys thought! I've been so blown away by the positive response so far!