I would just like to give an extra thanks to the guest reviewer Minifrench whose last review inspired the end of this chapter!

And so I ask for reviews as they help me update faster (But flames are highly uninspiring, so please none of those ;))

Chapter eighteen

They had bought a few objects to make the memorial. Roy hadn't bothered to suggest that he just transmuted it, it was obvious that the boy wanted to do it properly with his own two hands. Benjamin came from a world where the alchemy here sounded like something out of a science fiction novel. They had their own way of burying people. Roy would respect that. Apparently it was a thing that was usually performed by a priest and they were buried in the graveyard behind a church. Which was why the boy was currently kneeling in front of a round rock that was the only transmuted object here. Roy had made a flat square in the middle of the surface and made that part a lot more easy for Benjamin to carefully carve his words into with a small pencil of sorts that Roy had transmuted and made into hardened carbon.

And behind them were three noisy guinea pigs in a homemade pen that was two-by-two metres of carefully nailed together wooden planks with a lid made from chicken wire fastened to a wooden frame. This was in order to protect the three small animals from birds and cats while they were outside before they'd be brought back inside for the night.

And those three pets were happily eating Roy's lawn. It was frankly amazing just how much hay and grass that those three small creatures could eat.

...Which also resulted in an alarming amount of poo. Roy kept thinking of it as guinea poo and guinea pee and he was beginning to wonder if there was something very wrong with him.

They had built the pen too by hand. Understandably enough, Roy was the one who had manned the hammer. The kid still had trouble with his altered depth perception and hammers and nails were out of the question. Instead Benjamin had diligently held the planks together per Roy's instructions.

And so Roy had built a guinea pig pen together with a nine-year-old kid so that their pets could enjoy the warm weather, and said pets also had a couple of small houses to hide in when they wanted to.

And Roy was severely relieved that Fuery had told him about "popcorning", because the guinea pigs looked like they were having a curious series of seizures. But apparently it was an expression of enjoyment. Enjoyment accompanied by sounds not unlike one of Black Hayate's squeaky toys.

Basically, they were odd. But he had to admit that they were probably a much better comfort to Benjamin than a hamster that only woke up about an hour and a half before the boy had to go to sleep.

Another thing that Roy was happy that Fuery had told him was that scratching the guinea pigs behind the ear made them pause in their attempts at escaping the "eagles", and allowed Roy to lift them up. When he had bought the pets, he had forgotten about a very important thing, which was that Roy would actually be a lot more involved with them because of how Benjamin still needed to get a lot more used to only having one eye.

Which meant that Roy was surprised to find himself slightly entranced by the feel of a little, soft, almost naked foot resting on his right pinky. It was a nice oddness. A nice oddness that made him realise to his horror that he was beginning to like those three noisy creatures.

Roy looked at what Benjamin was doing, and he had to say that it was turning into a rather nice-looking memorial. The stone was going to be placed in the middle of a larger circle made from pebbles. There were another five small pebbles that were lying in five separate holes in a horizontal line in front of what would be their makeshift headstone. From left to right, they represented Benjamin's grandfather, grandmother, father, mother and little sister. Apparently the young boy was going to cover them up with the excess dirt that was lying next to them, very much like with a normal funeral.

"There," the boy whispered shakily, putting his engraving tool back on the ground next to him, before he sniffed and wiped his tears away with his right hand. "Could you help me lift it into place?" He wasn't looking up at Roy. He was just sitting on his knees with his back to him, his shoulders shaking slightly.

Roy was curious as to what the kid had written. He had made it clear that Benjamin couldn't write anything that would hint towards his true past and family. "Yes, I'll take it, you shouldn't strain yourself," Roy told him. And he wasn't lying. The kid had undergone surgery just a few days ago and he had also fainted a few hours previously. "You wanted it in the middle, right?"

The young boy nodded and moved to the side, revealing the carefully carved words.

Roy paused.

Keep moving forwards, no matter what it takes, and even if you have to wade through a river of mud.

That certainly sounded familiar. A bit different, yes, but essentially the same as Roy's own words. "That's... Is that something that he used to say, by any chance?" Roy asked carefully.

"Yes, he did. And he knew what that meant better than most, because he waded through that river on a prosthetic leg... He lost his wife and his newborn daughter..." The young boy said before his voice broke. "...And yet, as he l-lay there in complete a-agony, his parents sh-shot down in front of him, knowing th-that he was about to... to d-die..." His voice was shaky and barely more than a whisper. "...He ch-chose to keep p-pressure on m-my wound..."

"He was a good man," Roy concluded heavily, placing his hand on the crying child's shoulder.

Benjamin nodded before he began sobbing into his dirt-covered hands.

Roy stood before the kid's bedroom door, sighing. There was one last thing that they should go through before Benjamin fell asleep. Bedtime was in thirty minutes, and the kid had been so emotionally exhausted after everything that had happened today, that it was a good idea to do this while coherency was actually possible.

"Yes?" came the young boy's voice.

"Is it okay if I come in for a second?"

"Is there something wrong?" Benjamin's voice grew wary.

"No, there's just something I think we should talk about."

"Come in, then."

And so Roy did, opening the door gently. Benjamin was looking up at him from where he was sitting in his bed, back leaning into the pillows in front of the headboard. George was seated next to him, the boy sitting there without any blankets, but merely wearing his light yellow pyjamas. He was in the middle of placing his book back on the nightstand, looking up at Roy in a kind of nervous curiosity. "Do you mind if I sit down?" Roy asked the young boy, nodding towards the foot of his bed.

The boy's eye widened in realisation. "You're afraid again. You're afraid that I will be upset by you being here after... after the memorial."

Roy sighed. "I don't really want to make you cry, after all. You've had a long day and if you want to talk tomorrow instead, then that's fine."

Benjamin frowned. "I'm a Mustang and you've peaked my interest. If you leave now, my bedtime will be in three hours instead of thirty minutes because I won't be able to sleep, so please just sit down," he said, pulling his knees to him slightly to make space.

Roy walked over and sat down, looking at the young boy. It was still unnerving how much Benjamin looked like him and how much the remaining eye reminded him of Hawkeye's. "I talked with Havoc earlier today. On the way to the infirmary... He didn't say anything that you had said, he just gave me a little warning that you're not actually a sleepwalker and that I spoke of apple pies. I'd like to apologise for the amount of hurt I caused you... I'd completely forgotten about it all before Havoc told me about it."

The boy looked down at that. "I shouldn't have come to you. I wasn't even allowed to do so for something like a nightmare. It wasn't an emergency and it made things unnecessarily complicated and hurtful."

Roy sighed again, leaning backwards against the wall, crossing his arms. He had changed into a pair of light blue pyjama trousers and a white t-shirt. The weather was still warm and the pyjama shirt would make Roy feel too little of an adult in this situation. Being dressed in the same way as the kid just didn't work. "I was being stupid for not expecting you to have nightmares after what happened... If and when it happens again, then of course you're allowed to come to me. I've been too caught up in everything being safe for you to actually take the way that you're still a child into account. I don't want you to spend the night alone in your room if you need to talk or just not be alone. I'm not usually that tired and if I should be as unresponsive as that, then you poke me or something, okay?"

The boy stared at him. "Why are you adopting such a different opinion all of a sudden? You said you wanted a clean slate, but this... this is a lot..."

Roy leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eye, in a way thankful that it was the side of his face without the eyepatch that was facing the boy. It was a lot more inviting, after all. "Because it isn't healthy with the way things have been between us. With me spending the time avoiding you because I don't know what to do because I constantly remind you of your father, and with you being..." Roy opened his eye again and turned his head towards him. "I've been assuming things about you from the start instead of actually asking. And so I have been acting on those assumptions and thereby ended up treating you in a way that isn't good for your emotional health. I think that changing that as soon as possible will be a lot better. This isn't going to be easy, I know. I can't even begin to imagine what this must be like for you." Roy sighed, looking down, his hands loosely folded in his lap as he leaned forwards on his elbows. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that I am constantly hurting you like I do just by being Roy Mustang."

Benjamin didn't answer. Instead Roy heard quiet sobs escaping the young boy.

Roy looked at him, deciding to let the boy decide for himself. "Do you want a hug?"

"I... I d-don't know..." the boy said, his voice breaking as he began sobbing loudly into his hands. "B-but p-please don't l-leave..." he whispered barely audibly.

Roy sighed and leaned back again, placing his right hand on Benjamin's left knee, giving him some small comfort as he sobbed for the next ten minutes straight.

Once the boy collected himself, he had snot and tears down his face and Roy reached into his trouser pocket, pulling out a tissue, leaning over and helping Benjamin blow his nose, but the young boy really needed a wet washcloth to fix this. "Come on, kid, we need to get you cleaned up properly."

The boy got to his feet and Roy led him into the bathroom, and got him to sit down on the toilet lid. Benjamin looked completely spent. He had bags under his eye and his face was red from crying. Roy found a washcloth and wetted it with warm water, making sure that it wasn't too hot, before he knelt down in front of the child. Benjamin was just looking at him, seeming not to know what to say or do as Roy tilted his chin up with his left hand, while gently washing his face with the washcloth, making sure not to cause any pain from the wound more than absolutely necessary. "Also, Benjamin, I'm doing this because I've realised that I have strictly speaking adopted you... That makes you my responsibility, and not just as your bodyguard."

The boy looked down, not saying anything for an entire minute, before he spoke in a barely audible whisper. "Could you show me what it looks like under the eyepatch?"

Roy hadn't expected that question, especially as Benjamin had already seen it once and it was a frankly horrifying sight, especially for a boy who wasn't even double digits yet. It was enough to give anyone nightmares. "You've already seen what it looks like, why would you want to see something like that again?"

"Because... Because I hardly looked at it and as soon as I did, I looked away because all I saw was that you weren't Dad... But now... I just... I'm going to have horrible scars myself... I don't want them to become something to be ashamed of... And if you cannot even trust me with yours when we are living in the same house, then how can I feel comfortable about my own?" the young boy whispered, still not looking up at Roy.

Roy hadn't thought about it. He wasn't particularly fond of looking at himself in the mirror when he wasn't wearing his eyepatch. He had a scarred crater in his face that also just so happened to include a dent due to the now missing piece of bone that was hit by the bullet. But then again, it wasn't much worse than the damage to the kid's face. And Roy wasn't ashamed of it, per se... It was just uncomfortable because it genuinely looked painful.

But so does Benjamin's...

"Are you sure?" Roy asked him.

The boy looked up at him at that and nodded. "If it's fine with you."

Roy sighed with a single nod of his own. "Okay, then... But if you want me to put it back on, then you tell me, okay? It's not pretty and it's not really something that you show to kids. Or adults for that part."

Benjamin's lower lip quivered and Roy realised that this was a lot more personal than he originally thought. "Please... Because to me..." He placed his left hand over the bandages, the look in his face suddenly becoming determined and somewhat fierce. The same sort of fierceness the boy had about his photograph. "Because to me, this is a symbol of my Dad's love for me... It's a symbol of how great a man he was because they carved it out to punish him for shooting their leader. This is a symbol of how Dad saved four hostages from a local farm. And it is a symbol of how Dad was selfless to the very end because it shows how the worst form of torture to him was never being hurt himself... It was to see those around him get hurt. So I'm proud of this."

Roy just looked at him. "You really are a poet, aren't you? You know most people would see it as a hurtful reminder, especially with your age."

There was a slight smile on Benjamin's mouth. A sorrowful and pained one, but it was a smile all the same. "Adopting popular opinion can be dreadfully boring. Had I done that, then I wouldn't have been a poet, and I think it makes my head a much more amusing place to be." His eye suddenly filled with a lot of sorrow. "My family would never have wanted that to change. Which is another reason as to why I view my wound as a reason to be proud."

Roy paused. The kid was trying to bond here. Showing his feelings and thoughts in a way that he hadn't done before. And it seemed that Benjamin was viewing the house as the place where he could still keep his father. To him, this place was a safe haven.

And for some reason, he had decided that Roy's eyepatch was a part of that.

"Miss Riza is right. You really do feel threatened by matters that cannot immediately be explained by science. And so I shall make it simple for you because you are obviously more familiar with receiving orders rather than symbolism: Please remove your eyepatch as I wish for you to give me some trust as I have just trusted you with something that is highly dear to me."

Roy couldn't help the slight snort of laughter. "Equivalent exchange, in other words?"

The boy gave a weak nod, a single tear running down his cheek. "Please..."

Roy sighed heavily and nodded, before he reached up with his right hand and removed the eyepatch, looking straight at the child in front of him. He was afraid that the boy would change his mind, and so he hadn't put his hand back down yet in case he needed to replace the eyepatch quickly.

Benjamin just stared at the old wound, more tears running down his cheek. "Thank you..." he whispered shakily.

Seeing that the boy wasn't revolted, Roy lowered his hand to his side, not really knowing how to respond to that. However, he did remember standing in front of the mirror four years ago and touching his newly healed over wound in a kind of curious state of disbelief. "You're allowed to touch it if you want."

The boy lifted his hand cautiously and placed his fingers slowly on the scarred dent in Roy's face.

Roy was beginning to realise that they were bonding over the loss of their left eyes. But it was better than having the nine-year-old boy give him the silent treatment. No, something was going in the right direction here. By giving the boy a new way to view him without essentially posing a threat to his loved ones, Benjamin was in turn letting down his guard and thereby finally telling Roy what was wrong.

"Could you tell me what happened to it?" Benjamin asked, gently poking the dent left by the missing piece of bone.

Roy paused. He had assumed that the boy had been told by either Havoc or Breda at some point. But his assumptions were obviously wrong. "Have any of the others told you about the events of four years ago? With the previous Führer?" Roy needed to phrase his questions carefully. If Benjamin didn't know about homunculi, then Roy didn't really want to tell him. He didn't want to give the kid any ideas about bringing his father back to life. At least not without having the time to explain it all properly.

"No. Miss Winry began telling me about the Elrics, but she didn't get further than to when they first transmuted before I fell asleep. Uncle Jean gave me a brief summary of the history of the country, but I don't know much about it all. I know that you fought in the Ishbalan Civil War, but mostly they told me that I ought to ask you because it should be up to you how much you want me to know. According to them, there is a lot to know that I'm not... They suggested that I be older before I got to know the details," Benjamin said absentmindedly as he still seemed to be focused on the scarred pit in Roy's face. It appeared to be that to him, Roy's permission to touch the scars meant more than the information being kept from him. But with a detective for a father, Roy could only assume that Benjamin was fairly used to being told that things would have to wait until he was older.

Roy sighed heavily, gently placing his left hand on top of Benjamin's, holding it still as he looked at him. "Short story is that I lost it after I killed the previous Führer and a crazed officer decided to shoot me in the face."

The boy stared at him with his eye wide in alarm. "You killed the leader of your country and you weren't executed for it?"

"He was a bad man, Benjamin. An evil bastard actually, who didn't mind starting wars just to create a mythical object that I'll tell you about later. He killed people in cold blood, including his own son, and was very much a traitor to the country."

"Then why was he Führer?"

"Because people didn't actually know that he was an evil bastard. When I found out and had sufficient information to back those claims, I decided to get back at him as he also helped arrange the death of an officer who was killed when he discovered what Bradley was up to. Said officer was also my best friend."

The boy stared at him in horror, tears still running down his cheek. "I'm so sorry... Thank you for talking with me, Eyebro."

"I'm going to tell you the full story, but I want you to wait. I need to figure out just how much I ought to tell you, because there is a lot that..."

Roy sighed. "You don't need more nightmares."

...Cornwall, four nights ago...

Roy knew there was no way he wouldn't die. He knew that they were going to kill Ben too. He could tell just by looking at the three intruders.

The bullets lodged in his chest and stomach were nothing compared to the fact that he knew that Ben would wake up any minute now and find him like this. That they would probably kill Ben so as to make it the last thing that Roy saw.

Everything was agony and he couldn't save Ben.

His son was going to die.

Just like Roy's parents.

Roy hugged him tighter, almost throwing up again as he thought about what they had done to his eye. They had held Roy up to make him watch as they carved it out. And he had found himself praying to a god he no longer believed in that Ben wouldn't wake up before it was done.

Then two things had happened at once. The bastard had dropped the knife to the floor, having finished with it, leaving the bleeding crater in his son's face.

Then came the two shots and Roy had thought that it had been one for himself and one for his son, only to have found two rapidly growing red spots on his own shirt.

Then came the wave of horrified agony as he had been dropped to the floor with a gasp of pain.

And then Ben had been thrown at him together with a scarf which Roy had immediately pressed to the bleeding hole in his son's face.

He hoped that Ben would die before he did. The worst thing he could imagine was to die without knowing what these people would do to his son.

Then Ben began stirring and Roy froze. "D-Dad?" he asked weakly and tearfully.

"Ben, listen to me, everything is going to be okay, so please don't be scared," Roy whispered to him. He could barely keep himself from yelling from the agony.

"So your brat's up, huh?" came the voice of the man who had so crudely carved Ben's eye out, sending another wave of pained rage through Roy.

And then Ben panicked and Roy felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out. "My eye! Dad! It hurts!"

Roy tried desperately to find a way out of this. But he didn't know what to do anymore. This was the end and Ben was suffering and everything...hurt.

He had failed his son. He had failed to protect him.

Then the bastard dragged Ben back to make him watch what had happened to his father. Roy knew he must look a mess. Everything tasted and smelled like blood.

"NO! DAD!" Ben exclaimed.

He had never felt his stomach clench like it did then. The desperation and fear in his son's voice...

But he had to stay strong. If Ben was about to die, then Roy should hold his hand. Just show him much his dad loves him one last time as everything ended.

"Ben … Please … Just … Just … Hold my hand, okay?"

Ben immediately grabbed it, tears going down his face from the side that wasn't pouring blood. Roy couldn't stop his own blood-filled coughs. He hated this. He never wanted for Ben to see anything like what was happening now.

And yet he was powerless to stop it.

For some reason, his mind went back to the golden-eyed stranger he had met when he had been asked to help an investigation in London during the Great War due to severe understaffing. The man had said things that Roy had believed to be nothing more than fanciful tales about a whole other universe where he had met another version of Roy Mustang. He had found the things the stranger had said entertaining in the middle of all the destruction and pain going on around him. An intriguing break of sorts. And the strangest part was that Roy had believed him. The man had really thought that what he was saying was real. Roy had of course not believed in the thought of another universe where they had a very different idea of alchemy and how it worked. And about how ths world was powering the alchemy of this "Amestris".

Roy had found it a horrible concept and had been about to leave the stranger while feeling slightly sickened and frightened. He had thought that the stranger was harmless and delusional until then.

But then the man had talked about how this "Brigadier General Roy Mustang" had an assistant named "Riza Hawkeye", and Roy had frozen. Hardly anyone had known about either of the two nicknames. Riza had been created from her first name Elizabeth Victoria, and "Hawkeye" had been Roy's own pet name for her. Nobody but Ben and his own parents had known about that name.

And so Roy had sat back down again and listened to the rest of it. Listened to everything the stranger had to say.

"PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME, DAD!" Ben suddenly shouted and Roy felt his mind being brought back to the present, even though he knew that he was drifting. He was drifting towards the unknown, and rapidly and he couldn't even get himself to speak. Everything was just blood and pain and he weakly squeezed the small hand that was still in his own.

"Nah, he's gonna watch his brat die first," came the voice of the man who had carved Ben's eye out, and the words were enough to spike the last bit of consciousness Roy had left with a sharp stab of fear. But then the man clearly changed his mind as he slammed the gun into the back of Ben's head, knocking him unconscious and he slumped forwards onto Roy. "That's a nice look for you Mustang, but we're not gonna show you that kindness... So we'll let you die knowing that we're taking your son with us, and just let you ponder what will happen to him during your last breaths."

Roy wanted to scream in frustration and fear as Ben was pulled away from him again, but all he could do was cough up more blood as his vision turned darker and he was desperate. So desperate.

If he was right... If I am about to become mere energy to power this fairytale world, then I'm the one who gets to choose how it's used. So whatever this is, whatever you are: if there really is a Gate, then you listen to me and get my son to safety! You get him to the other me or to Riza and I give up my body, mind and soul for him to be sent there, okay?! You get him safe!

His vision was growing blurry, but he looked at Ben and felt a wave of relief and pain at the same time.

... Because his son suddenly went completely pale in a way that was only possible through death and Roy closed his eyes.

Thank you, Hohenheim of Light.