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We do not own Fullmetal Alchemist and its characters. Please be informed that this fanfiction has detailed gore, war, death, and mentions of PTSD. Reader's discretion is advised.

Without further ado…

Silver Halo

Chapter 2

The cool gaze that peered down on him had an unusual warmth. His body ached in exhaustion but he felt a light touch. The soft stroke brought a fire to his skin. Though it wasn't agonizing or crippling. It was soothing, warm.

As blackness consumed the edges of his vision, icy blue hues pinned him in place. A grey halo radiated down on him. He basked in the tranquility for a little longer before he allowed the darkness to take over. A silvery voice beckoned him back but he was too tired to follow.

"Mustang… Stay with me… Roy."

A crackle of fire perked his ears. Being drawn from the pitch black fog, Roy slowly came too. A dull ache throbbed throughout his entire body. Since he became a State Alchemist, he hasn't got a well rested sleep like now. Alarm washed over him.

He tried to pry open his eyes but the effort weighed his lids more than he thought. His vision but a crack of sight was met with a starry sky. He turned his head slightly to the left where a fire called to him. Shrouded in darkness, a hunched petite figure sat beside it, seemingly asleep from the deep breaths.

The fatigue enticed him back. With what little strength he had, Roy kept his eyes open for a minute longer. His sleeping guardian turned her head. He noted the small dainty features of a slim nose and red lips before he succumbed to sleep as well.

When Roy's consciousness brought forth again, it was completely different to what he woke up to the first time. Light bathed his surroundings. With half lidded eyes, a headache came on. He moaned quietly in pain. His body was slightly more at ease than last. Fuzzy color of olive green glared back at him until blackness overwhelmed him again.

A muffled buzz flew around him. A numbing sensation flowing through his body slowly ebbed away. Roy focused all his energy into making out the noise.

"Blood transfers are finished… Should be waking up… The morphine… Doctor…"

Roy smacked his lips together. The small gap of vision he made out people crowding his side. He felt a liquid placed on his lips. Small sips of water was all the Major could do before his body slipped back to rest. Voices tried to keep him awake but another from the back of his mind lulled him to sleep.

"Roy…"

Something pulled him from the darkness. A light caress on the side of his cheek. A familiar touch lingered. He wanted to know more. The rest of his body woke up from its slumber.

He willed his eyes open, blurry at first as if a camera was focusing on the subject of the picture. The grogginess reminded him of the hangovers from the Military Academy graduation week. The haziness made him recall the mist of dreams. Above him was a green ceiling. A warmth passed by his side briefly.

Roy heard the scuffling of feet. A silent humming met his ears. The light and peaceful sound eased him deeper into the sheets. He felt a presence settle to his side.

Focusing with difficulty, he noticed the moonlight radiating off the grey halo around her. He stared at the figure as his vision cleared. Glowing underneath the silver light streaming in, she looked almost ethereal like a quiet apparition. Silently watching over him at his side.

Choppy grey hair barely passed her shoulders as her blue eyes looked at the flowers on the table. The bags under her striking eyes contrasted her pale skin. Icy blue eyes reflected the light.

"So, I'm dead then." He breathed out hoarsely. This caught her attention. The humming stopped. She looked up at him, her bangs slightly shielding her eyes.

"Pardon?" She asked. A grey brow lifted. A shadow contoured her features deeper, her face breathlessly harsher but even more striking.

The corner of Roy's lips twisted into his signature flirty smile. "An angel came to fetch me." His gaze hazily followed her.

She scoffed. An entertained smile appeared on her lips. She indifferently stared down at him. "I never heard that before."

Roy furrowed his eyebrows. His eyelids felt like lead again. He struggled to stay conscious. "Why not?"

The smile lessened its brightness as she leaned closer to him. Her eyes softened and a sadness gleamed deep beneath her cool glaze. She whispered, "Because I bring them back to hell."

"I doubt that," Roy muttered groggily, his dream fading. She gave him a small smile, which seemed all too familiar on her face. He caught her words before the darkness consumed him again.

"It's good to see that you're alright, Roy Mustang…"

His eyes fluttered open. The State Alchemist winced, eyes adjusting to the brightness. He blinked multiple times before taking in his surroundings.

By some miracle, he found himself no longer in the middle of an Ishvalan community massacre. He laid in an uncomfortable camping cot in the olive green medical tent. A scratchy blanket tucked underneath his chin. His skin itched from the fabric.

A steel pole loomed beside him from which an IV bag hung, dripping fluids into his line. A single table stationed beside his bed. Daisies and freesia flowers stood at the center in a small cup. The edges of white petals tinged brown. He stared at it. For the first time in months, he saw life that was untouched by the war.

Light streamed in from a cut on the wall, flitting through the stems. He searched the tent to find the person who placed them there. Empty cots around told him there was no one to ask.

He attempted to sit up. Roy yelped from the sharp pain that exploded in his abdomen. His hands clutched over his bandages. The blanket pooled around his legs.

"Oh, Roy. You're awake," Maes Hughes entered. With a hand holding up the entrance flap, he gave a two finger wave.

"Yeah," Roy grunted. He hissed again from the pain of the vibration that wracked his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily. There was a slight shift of the tent's flaps as Hughes strolled to the side of bed.

"You look horrible," Hughes mentioned to him as he scanned Roy's body, eyeing the bandages. Hughes dragged a chair from the foot of the bed. He dropped beside the Major.

"Yeah, well, one would when they get shot," Roy sighed, thinking back before he collapsed. The fatigue returned and the responsibilities echoed through his head.

The burdens of the State Alchemist that leashed him like a dog. To only obey the superiors above anything else. He remembered the men with him, huddled under a downpour of bullets. He recalled the acrid smell of burning and the blinding blaze he rained mercilessly down on the incoming Ishvalans while his weary troop retreated.

Roy felt bile rise to his throat. He returned Hughes' stare. "Did they make it—"

"Yes." The simple answer lifted the weight off of Roy's shoulders. Roy swallowed back the ball in his throat. But he didn't let himself sigh in relief. Not now. Not now when there was this war. He stared at the empty cot in front of him.

"You were out for two days." Hughes told him. He readjusted his dirty spectacles.

"When do they need me?"

"Immediately," Hughes leaned comfortably in the chair. Achingly, Roy did the same. The white clean sheets underneath him chafed against the skin of his arms.

"They're slave drivers," Roy moaned. "Once this all ends, I won't know how to take a break."

Hughes snorted, "What's a break?" He stared seriously at Roy before a grin stretched across his face.

Hughes laughed at his own joke heartily. Roy crackled a smile before joining him. The State Alchemist's wounds throbbed once more, causing Roy to groan.

Hughes studied him. "Your men are singing praises about you all over camp. They're starting to call you The Hero of Ishval. Even in the newspapers."

Roy shrugged. He didn't want to know. As far as he was considered, he was a murderer. He gazed off to his bedside table.

"Who's the girl?" Roy questioned firmly, staring at the flowers. A silver halo crossed his mind. Hughes raised a brow.

"What girl?"

"The one who was watching me." A grin made its way on Hughes' face. He leaned forward, intrigued.

"A girl eh?" Hughes pressed on. "Is she pretty?"

Roy narrowed his eyes, immediately seeing where his friend was going with this. Hughes raised his hands defensively. "Just wanted to know. Normally, you don't go around looking- hell, even asking about a specific girl. And she was here and didn't want to stay around you, the charming Hero?"

Roy shook his head, "Not charming enough for her to stay. When I woke up again, she was gone. At first I thought I was just high on morphine, but these told me otherwise." He nodded to the flowers.

Hughes' grin stretched like a cat got a canary. "Oho, your Cinderella then?"

Roy rolled his eyes but didn't deny it. "More like a ghost," he murmured. Hughes barked out a laugh before teasingly continued.

"Is she so beautiful then?" Hughes shook his head. Dramatic pain twisted his features. "No it can't be. She'll be nothing compared to my own princess."

Hughes puffed his chest out. A proud gleam overwhelmed his eyes. "Look what I got in the mail!" He brought out a small photo of the sandy haired woman. Love filled his words. Roy blanched as Hughes spewed more lovestruck nonsense.

"Gracia is the most beautiful woman in the whole world. In this one, she told me that she went to our favorite spot. She's waiting for me to come back so we can go back together- That's what you should do when you get back!"

Roy raised an eyebrow, "What?"

Maes waved his hands dramatically. "Find the perfect woman! Or in your case, Cinderella." He melted into his chair, clutching Gracia's picture to his chest. "To experience unconditional, boundless love!"

Roy scoffed. His head fell back against the headrest. "I'll leave that to you." Hughes frowned. He opened his mouth to refute Mustang. He sighed instead, knowing that his words would be met with deaf ears. Roy cleared his throat. "Where are the nurses around here anyway?"

Hughes smirked at him. "Grunman made sure they were doing their other duties. They made no complaints about the stricter schedule. Apparently, the smell of fire is a turn off."

Roy frowned. Hughes laughed. He continued, nodding to the flowers on Roy's bedside table. "But, your heroics got you an admirer." Roy chuckled. Hughes clapped him on his shoulder.

"There you are, Captain Hughes," a new voice entered the tent. A corporal stood by the entrance. He snapped straight into a salute when he saw the awake State Alchemist. "Major Mustang, good morning, sir!"

Roy waved him off. The soldier shifted one foot to another uneasily. "Captain Hughes, the meeting is about to start." Hughes grunted in reply, dismissing the corporal sent to get him.

"It's good to see you alive and kicking. I have to go," Hughes stood with a grumble. A corner of Roy's lips lifted as his friend moaned helplessly all the way out of the tent. Roy glanced back at the flowers. Cool greyish blue eyes flashed in his memory. Roy thought about the voice that called out to him. An admirer, huh. Is that what she was?

Author's Note:

In the language of flowers, those found on Roy's bedside table means…

Daisies - new beginnings, hope, and innocence. The latter meaning symbolizes Diana's pure intentions when saving him.

Freesias - trust and innocence. The latter meaning symbolizes Diana's pure intentions when saving him.

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