Title: Theme #025 'So I'm Crying'
Author: Tressa
Rating:K
Summary: #025 of the 100 Royai themes.
AN: This takes place after Conquerors of Shamballa. Roy's more or less pulled himself together at this point.
It wasn't unusual for anyone to find Roy Mustang at one of the cemeteries in Amestris . He had a whole field of reasons to go, between his best friend, his sensei, as well as countless others who he had known along the way. But it was at one particular grave that always seemed to call for him.
Gloved fingers traced etching in the cold headstone. It had no specific name, just a simple phrase.
For those who died at and for Ishbal.
He rarely made it out this direction, it being very out of the way. But he felt, whether it was because of guilt or sadness, or maybe both, that he should visit.
On slabs of rock next to the headstone were the names of those who perished in the massacre. The few times he actually made it to the monument, he would gaze over the numerous names until he found two:
Doctors Rockbell and Rockbell
He remembered it all clearly. Their insistence to continue treating the injured Ishbalans. The cold feeling of metal in his hand, an instrument that was nearly foreign to him. The smell of gunpowder and the stench of blood as it began to cover the floor, mixing with the blood of hundreds before.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"Sir. . ."
The soft, yet stern voice broke him from his trance. Turning, he found himself looking into the very worried eyes of his friend and support.
"Hawkeye . . .?" he managed, turning to look at the monument again. "When did you . . .?"
"I know nothing I say will help you," she said simply, crouching down beside him. Her worn hands reached out and gently touched the names. "But whatever you need," she offered, trailing off.
"There's nothing I can do," he said gesturing to the names. "And now I've taken that girl's friends from her as well. No matter what I do, I can't atone for what I've done." He focused again at the names. "I can't do anything but cry." He looked down at the ground, at the flowers and tokens that lined the memorial and blinked back the tears. "So, I'm crying."
"Then cry sir." He heard a rustle as she stood up. The tenseness in her body, the tight grip of her hands, the far off look in her eyes, it all told him one thing. She too was suffering for her involvement. "Cry. Then lets get to work. And make sure nothing like this happens again."
The stayed still and silent for a moment. Reaching out again, he brushed the names. "All right," he acquiesced. "Let's get to work.