Dying without You
Disclaimer: I do not own FullMetal Alchemist. It belongs to its respective owners. (Which is not me.) I am simply a rabid fangirl who loves every single part of FMA…especially Havoc and Scar. (Meow!)
This fic is completely AU for being years later than actual story line and me not even knowing the actual ending... O.o;;
And I must warn…there's a lot of character deaths. Uhh...yeah.
Ah, yes…and in this fic, Edward is in 19-20 age range…just so my own mind doesn't creep me out…
XXX
'How is it, that when you wish time to pass slowly, it's gone in the blink of an eye; while when you want time to pass quickly, the day never seems to end?
Why does life wish to torment us? …Force us to live when all we want to do is curl up and die, broken and solitary, crying out from the agony of a painful past…
Why am I forced to live while others are granted eternal sleep, never to open their eyes to another problem of the world? Why am I forced to cry myself to sleep each night because I can't deal with the blinding pain of my own existence?
Yes…that's right…because I made a promise to him. Because he begged me to live on in his wake…because he wanted me to live the life he never could.
…But would he want me to live on if he could see me how I am now? If he knew how broken and torn I am inside?
When I die…will he still refuse me rest in the afterlife, saying I gave in too soon?
…Or will he welcome me with open arms like he did every night I came home crying out in frustration from my failures?
I'm suffering…There must be no God if I'm suffering like this.
…Did he believe in God? Would he say the same things about God if he were in my position? Would he be able to deal with the pain of life?
What am I thinking? He's been denied life! Of course he'd be able to deal…he was so much stronger than I am.
Oh, If he saw me now, hating my tormented existence…what would he say?'
XXXI turned over restlessly in my bed, burying my face in the linen-covered mattress.
'Even after months of periodic washings…Goddamnit these sheets still smell like him.'
I subconsciously breathed in the scent deeper, letting the faint wisps of Roy's distinct scent lull me into a false sense of security.
Once again it felt like he was there beside me, whispering those sweet nothings in my ear…letting his ungloved hands run lightly through my blonde locks…moving his soft lips down to capture mine…his fingertips whispering over the sensitive flesh of my thigh…
I squeezed my eyes shut at remembering those moments.
It's such torture to remember his soft touches…even now I ache for them in such a way that I cry out in the night, pleading for the gruesome dreams of my childhood just so I don't have to deal with the agony of dreams where I'm yearning for a dead man's love.
…
Yes…Roy Mustang is dead. Has been for the last nine months.
Haha…Isn't it ironic that it's been nine months since I've been able to feel any strong emotion?
I've felt so empty inside since his death, that each morning when I wake up, I trudge through the hours of daylight wishing only for a chance to sleep again.
…I find now that I live more in dreams and fantasies than I do in actual life. Each night I'm plagued by memories of Roy, and some mornings when I awaken, I find dried tears on my cheeks and my voice is raw from crying out in the night.
Some nights I dream of Roy's feather-light touch, of his supple lips claiming mine…of his lean, well toned body poised over mine…but other nights I dream of the blood-stained night so intently imprinted in my brain.
…I dream of the night Colonel Roy Mustang lost his last battle.
I dream of the night my lover was defeated and destroyed in front of my very own eyes.
XXX
"How long do you think we can keep up this charade, Edward?" I looked into Roy's dark, coal-coloured eyes and gave a slight shrug.
"As long as no one else finds out. That's how long." Roy gave that slight smirk and shook his head, crossing the room to stand in front of me.
"Of course. Just the sort of answer I'd expect you to give." He gave another smile then, but this time it was softer…more tender. I was the only one who was able to see that smile anymore. Roy had become so callused to the world…only our small affair brought some sunshine in his trivial daily life. "You know," Roy began, placing his arms around my waist. "Our coworkers are beginning to suspect things, though…especially Havoc. He's probably jealous though…" I smiled and ran my hands up Roy's arms, curling my fingers around his shoulders and tugging his face down to my height.
"You don't have to worry." I whispered, curling my lips in a smile as he leaned forward and gave me a buss on my cheek. Afterwards he broke away from my grip and walked to his desk.
Pouting, I followed Roy to the desk he had sat himself upon. When I reached out to him, he laid a thick manila folder in my outstretched hand.
"What's this?"
"We have a mission. Open it up, you'll see." I flipped the folder open and breezed through the contents. It was the profile of a criminal the state alchemists had been searching for during the past two months.
"Vern Nein, forty-four years of age…" I trailed off and my eyes skimmed through his information. "We're after this guy? He seems pretty low-key, you know, minor offenses…Why aren't the lower ranks tracking him down?" Roy shook his head, narrowing his eyes and biting his lip.
"They were…but he's suddenly become more of a priority." I cocked a brow
"How so?"
"It seems he's formed a cult, following Scar's religious teachings." My eyes shot opened.
"Shit!"
"Indeed…there have been six deaths already due to him and a few of his followers. Several alchemists have also been reported missing, and our only guess is that Nein has abducted them." I gaped at Roy, shaking my head in disbelief.
"Damn him…I have to know, though… how is he killing them? He doesn't have Scar's arm…" Roy raised a brow and gave a slight scoff.
"He only has Scar's technique…apparently he takes a knife and scrambles their brains that way." I was flabbergasted.
"How could they ever consider that to be God's will?" Roy shrugged.
"Damned if I know. But we have orders from above that Nein is to be killed on sight. He's done enough damage to take down six well-armed state alchemists, so they're taking certain precautions." I raised a questioning brow, but my stomach still churned by the thought of a man slicing into another human in 'the name of God'.
"What does that mean?"
"Basically only the elite are being sent out…you, Hawkeye, Havoc, Armstrong, and myself. They don't want anymore casualties from the lower ranking officers, so we're busting our asses to take this guy down." I nodded, biting my lip and directing my gaze toward the ground.
"Understood. Where was he seen last?"
"Right here in Central. That's why we have this urgent mission on our hands…he was sighted two days ago when he took down three of our alchemists at once."
"No way." I breathed. "Have we been underestimating him all this time?"
"It seems that way. I just don't understand how he could take even three low ranked alchemists down at once. He must have some skills that we aren't aware of to have that type of advantage."
"Really. How do we know he's still in Central though? Is it possible that after the murders he skipped towns?"
"For the past two days the train stations and roads leading from Central have been monitored carefully…so we're sure he's still in the city. A large portion of the mission is just tracking the bastard down." I slumped over the plush chair facing Roy's desk.
"When do we head out?" My mouth felt dry and my stomach fluttered. I had such a bad feeling about the entire mission. Something just felt so…wrong.
"The sooner the better. We want to keep casualties to a minimum here, so the faster we track him down, the sooner we can breathe easy at night." Roy gave a suggestive wink. "And you'd prefer that, wouldn't you?" A slight tinge of pink shaded my cheeks, but I was too busy concentrating on my upset gut to humor Roy's perverted comments. Never before on a mission like this did I have such an uneasy feeling. Not even fighting Scar himself.
The worst part was not being able to pinpoint exactly why I felt that way, though.
I would've contemplated it more, but Roy chose that moment to ease up behind me and wrap his arms around my shoulders, pressing his lips to my neck. My hand instantly came up to run through his short dark locks of hair and I tilted my head to the side, giving him access to the warm skin of my neck.
The fluttering in my stomach disappeared then, as Roy lowered me down on his desk and nipped at my tender flesh, but subconsciously, worry gnawed at me. For the first time in all my years as a military dog, I had finally been assigned to a mission that made me fear for a reason I couldn't understand.
XXX
I remembered, as we bounced along in Roy's black car, just why I couldn't stand to be in the same car as Armstrong for too long…there was just no place to escape from his speeches on his own family history in the crowded buggy.
I was stuffed between Armstrong and Havoc. I didn't mind Havoc at all, the sarcastic man quieted with a pack of cigarettes and the window seat, but Armstrong felt the need to reiterate all the stories I know I'd heard at least twice before.
In the two front seats sat Hawkeye, intent on her driving, and Roy, who was staring out the front windshield, lost in a world of his own.
'Underground Sources' as Roy had dubbed the information team that had gathered Nein's whereabouts, had been very vague in their description of his hideout. Supposedly the alchemist killer was decked out in an abandoned church, but after driving the same block three times and finding no churches, Riza pulled the car over and climbed out, stretching her legs and drawing her gun.
"We're finding nothing by looking from the car. I say we search on foot from now on." Everyone nodded and followed her lead, but once again my stomach ached in protest.
Our small party went from one alley to another, intent on finding even the remnants of a church. Finally when we entered a dark, shadowy alley, Riza stopped in surprise.
"Look." She whispered, pointing to the back of the alley. The small cramped alleyway broadened out to an enclosed cemetery and tiny church, hidden by the shadows of the large buildings around it.
"I had no idea a place like this was back here…" Jean said softly, a bit of awe in his voice. "If this wasn't where a hell-bent murderer was hiding out, I'd say it was pretty damn cozy." Roy rolled his eyes at Jean's sentiments.
"But that's just it…he must be in there, this church fits the description given by our 'sources'." Roy said, craning his neck to look around Armstrong.
Havoc stretched his neck to either side and gave a grin, running his fingers through his short blonde hair.
"Then let's go surprise him. No sense in letting this guy get the upper hand."
"But that's where you're wrong. I already have it. I have the hand above us all…I am guided by the hand of God!" Everyone whipped their head around searching for the owner of the voice.
The man who had called to them was standing beside a small grave, a wilting white flower cradled in his hand. He was a middle-aged Ishbalan; his dark skin and red eyes obvious even at a distance.
Roy turned toward the man, his cold eyes boring into the black-clad figure.
"Vern Nein, I presume." The man smiled in response to Roy's level, even voice, and stepped away from the grave, facing our small party.
"Yes, that is what you simple humans refer to me as, but in reality I am God's Right Hand. I am his Heavenly Body represented in a flesh body on Earth…I am a Saint that will carry out God's Divine will!" His charismatic speech made my blood boil.
"Liar!" I heard my own voice scream in protest. "You butcher innocent humans in the 'name of God'! You consider that Righteousness? Fucking Blasphemy!" The Ishbalan was unfazed by my outburst and simply laughed at my disgust.
"You, alchemist, know nothing of God's will! Each day you commit sin by changing God's Blessed Earth…you blacken the world with your evil! Your unforgivable sins condemn you to the pits of Hell!" Beside me, Riza stiffened in shock, but I simply narrowed my eyes in loathing.
"I have already been in Hell," I growled. "And I don't plan on going back!" I snapped, losing the grip on my own self-control. Before anyone could react, I clapped my hands together, sending a jolt of moving earth in the direction of Nein.
The soil erupted beneath his feet, sending up a shower of dirt and stained bones, splinters of shattered coffins embedding themselves in his skin.
The man moved out of the way as fast as a cat, even with his injuries and I was instantly reminded of Scar and his deceiving strength.
The spray of dirt cleared after a moment, leaving bits of bones and corpses littered across the small churchyard.
After my initial attack, my fellow state alchemist party had split up, cautiously surrounding the Ishbalan. I found my back up against the wall of a brick building, and a few feet away Jean was poised in a fighting position, doing his best to shield himself and keep his cigarette in his mouth at the same time.
Roy and Riza had moved to Nein's right, keeping a close eye on the aging man. Riza had her gun trained on him; it was cocked and ready…she was simply waiting for an order to fire. Armstrong had moved to Nein's left, crouched and ready for battle. Nein had a wary look on his face as he narrowed his eyes in my direction.
"Military dogs…you fight with no morals! You dare intervene with God's intentions?" Even Havoc scoffed at this statement.
"I think God made his intentions pretty damn clear when he said 'thou shalt not kill', buddy." Jean raised an eyebrow, wondering how Nein would respond.
"You dare speak the words of God to me! Those words are blasphemy coming from your sinning heart!" Havoc smirked at Nein's ridiculous comment.
"Nothing I haven't heard before." Jean quipped, enraging the Ishbalan.
"Quit the idle banter! Your darkness seeps into my heart every time I hear your voice!" At Nein's words, Jean gave another smart-ass smirk.
"Good thing I like to talk a lot then, huh?" Nein let out a cry of rage at Havoc's words, lunging toward him with the knife that had slid out of his sleeve. The blonde ducked out of Nein's way, weaving around the hurried thrusts of his knife.
"Hawkeye! Can you get him without putting Havoc in danger?" Roy shouted, watching Havoc and Nein's movements. Riza aimed her gun, then shook her head.
"He's moving too much…I'd put Havoc in danger if I took a shot now. I can try-" She was cut off by a screech from the church. Roy and Riza exchanged glances.
"Sir, it's possible that the church is where Nein's been keeping the alchemists he's abducted. It merits an investigation." Roy nodded and Riza made a move toward the small church, but after a moment he placed a hand on her shoulder, halting her.
"We need to keep an eye on Nein and Havoc for now. Armstrong has it covered."
During those few precious moments, Havoc still avoided each thrust of the knife, his slender body twisting and teasing the enrage Ishbalan.
I stood back in a trance, my back now in front of the empty alley. I was watching wide-eyed the deadly dance being executed before my eyes. Each move seemed to have been choreographed…they were such quick, fluid motions.
I was itching to jump in to assist Havoc, but I knew better than to disrupt Jean's concentration; so I kept back, hoping that Riza would receive a chance to take Nein out quickly while he was distracted.
I was watching the fight between Jean and Nein so intently; that I didn't realize that one of Nein's lackeys had snuck up behind me. The only warning I had was Roy's harsh cry from across the churchyard. I spun around in time to see the wicked blade glint in the shadows, before it had been sunk into my shoulder with a sickening noise.
I let out a cry of pain, as I felt the blade twist into my bone, an obscene grating noise hammering in my ears. I felt streams of blood soak into my shirt and I dropped to my knees, the blinding pain making my head spin.
Before anyone could react, we had been surrounded by what I assumed to be the rest of Nein's cult. The young Ishbalan's had cold, haunting eyes that bored right into my soul.
…And each one wielded a long, wicked knife like the one embedded in my shoulder.
Upon the cult's arrival, we found ourselves severely outnumbered…Riza and Roy realized this immediately, going back to back and protecting each other. Havoc was still dodging Nein's attacks, but I could tell he was chancing looks at me, where I had backed up against the wall, reaching for the knife imbedded in my shoulder.
When my hand had finally grasped the knife's handle, Nein let out a frustrated cry, and from then on it became a free-for-all. The surrounding Ishbalan's moved in for the attack, and I could hear the echo of Riza's gun and see the glare of fire against the brick walls.
I pulled the knife out with a grunt and a spray of blood and tossed it aside, anxious to join the fight. I clapped my hands, forming my automail into a blade, and everything went dark from there.
I don't know how long the fight took place…Even though the Ishbalans were armed with simple knives, they were very capable with them, and I was quickly covered in deep cuts that leaked countless cups of blood.
No one else was faring much better than I was. I spied Armstrong in one corner of the churchyard, shielding two young girl alchemists that had been kidnapped, which he had rescued from inside the church.
…The poor girls still had their shackles attached to their wrists…
I chanced another look, and noticed that even with Armstrong's abilities, several knives had gotten past his defenses and his muscular body had been marred with cuts.
Nein had moved on from Havoc and made Roy his target. Their movements were lighting quick and Roy had all his concentration on Nein's knife.
Riza and Havoc were taking down as many Ishbalans as possible from the sidelines, but every so often a knife would get past their sights and cleave deep wounds in their flesh.
This battle was insane.
When most of the action was slowing down, I stopped, leaning against a brick wall heaving. I was sticky with blood, and the stench made my eyes water. When I had caught my breath I chanced a look up…only to cry out in horror.
While Roy concentrated on avoiding the thrusts of Nein's knife, an Ishbalan male had crept up behind him, and stood poised over him, aiming to drive the blade into the back of his neck.
I let out a shallow scream, reaching out futilely to Roy's oblivious body. He turned around just as the knife began it's descent…
…And went wide-eyed as it drove into Hawkeye's chest. She let out a slight cry, before dropping to the ground with a dull thud, blood spattering across Roy's shoes and slacks.
The echo from Havoc's gun came seconds too late, and Riza's attacker fell to the ground beside her…moments after the damage had been done.
With a quick look at Riza's unmoving body, I knew she was dead.
She had died fulfilling her duty of protecting her colonel…
…Her crimson stained fingers still gripped her gun in the moment of her death…
…Her pretty eyes were wide and blank…
I let out a cry of pain at the picture in front of me, and in my enraged state I lunged at the closest Ishbalan, no longer caring about my own safety.
Moments later the churchyard was cleared of every one of the cultists, leaving only Nein, who was still engaged in close range battle with Roy. I placed a hand over my heart; my eyes still full of tears…
'Riza…no…'
Besides Riza, Roy had taken the most damage…I could see that there were several cuts across his face, one particularly nasty slice slanting down his eye. I could also tell he was favouring his right leg, and his uniform was stained with crimson in way too many places.
I could also tell he was being careless…he was letting his emotions over-run him, his pain over Riza's death clear in the movement of his body. I was about to cry out for Roy to shape up, and rush to his aid…when I saw Nein's knife move faster than Roy could.
The knife slid across Roy's throat, a spray of hot blood instantly coating Nein's fingertips and blade.
My eyes widened in horror and my jaw dropped. Roy stopped dead in his track, staring blankly ahead. He slowly raised his gloved hand to the cut, shuddering as he felt the blood pouring out of it bubble over his fingers.
Nein relaxed at that moment, sensing his victory. He tipped his head back, looking into the clouded sky…praying to his God.
I began to stumble, making an attempt to limp to Roy, but my weakened legs refused to take me, and my knees buckled below my own weight.
I cried out in frustration, and reached out to Roy…but he refused to fall.
Roy instead straightened his shoulders, forced his head to look up, and slid the knife he had sheathed in his belt into his hand...and before the Ishbalan could react, Roy had driven it into Nein's oblivious chest.
Nein's eyes widened, as he brought his eyes down to stare into Roy's injured face. He brought his shaking fingers slowly up to wound, and his breathing became more labored.
"God will see this…and punish you…and reward me for my services. I will be regarded as a Saint for y-years to come…"
Nein fell to his knees in front of Roy's bloodied, intimidating body. Mustang looked down, his good eye consumed with the flames that thrummed through his body. When he spoke, his voice was dark and threatening, even though blood seeped down his chest from the slit in his neck.
"No God would commend what you've done…But if you wish it, then you can be a martyr. I'll allow you to die for your 'beliefs'. But before you do…I'll give you a slight taste of what you'll be damned to for your eternal afterlife." Roy gave a final, malicious smirk, then snapped his fingers, bathing Nein's body in tongues of flame.
Roy turned away from Nein's tortured screams, facing me where I had slumped down on the ground, cradling my knife wounds. Blood still spurted through my fingers and I felt fragile and weak. Taking a few steps toward me, Roy managed a small smile in my direction before his eyes became foggy and he sunk to the ground, breathing heavily.
"Roy!" I hissed, placing my good arm on the ground and attempting once again to drag myself to his side.
I reached him after a few, desperate moments, and after taking a few shaking breaths I whispered his name worriedly.
Roy was supporting himself on his hands and knees, his elbows quivering from the strain. His dark hair had fallen over his eyes, and he stared at the ground, with not even the strength to look me in the eye. Blood poured out of the wound he had sustained on his neck, and dripped over his ripped white gloves.
"Edward…" Roy whispered, his breath rattling in his throat. "I…I can't see you Ed." I stretched out a trembling hand and laid my fingertips on Roy's cheek, tipping his head back carefully so I could look into his face.
Roy's right eye had been sliced open and blood, along with other liquids, ran down his cheek like tears. Blood gushed from his several other wounds and it was only then that I realized Roy wouldn't recover from such extensive injuries.
This battle would be his last, and this small hidden churchyard would be the place of his death.
"R-Roy." I choked, my eyes brimming with tears. "D-don't go Roy…" I crawled as close as I could and pulled him down into my lap, digging my fingers tightly into his uniform.
"Go? Go where? I'm not going anywhere…" Roy trailed off and I looked into his eye, which had begun to glaze over. I choked up again and clung to him tighter, my shoulder protesting with the force of my embrace. Roy raised a shaking, bloody hand to my cheek then, his fingertips whispering across my flesh, leaving warm crimson smears.
"Promise me you'll take care of everyone, Ed…I don't think I can." I nodded, blinded by my own tears.
"A-anything Roy…" He gave me a final, tender smile.
"Promise me…you'll…live…" He whispered his last word, then slowly sunk back in my arms, his coal-coloured eye blank and his body limp.
I stared down in disbelief for a few moments, not fully realizing what had happened.
"Roy…" I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. I muttered his name again before I dipped my head, brushing my lips against his warm cheek.
"…Come back…" I laid my forehead against his and sobbed, oblivious to the rest of the world.
My Roy Mustang was dead.
…
I felt a hand on my uninjured shoulder after several minutes of unabashed crying. Havoc was usually a comfortable weight…but at that moment I shrugged him off, wincing as I twisted my aching shoulder.
…I didn't know how long he had been observing me in my most vulnerable state.
"Edward…we need to treat your wounds. I can see even from here how weak you are from all the blood you've lost." I buried my face in Roy's hair.
"I…I just can't leave right now, Jean. I need to be here with Roy."
"Edward…" His voice was unusually soft, pleading with me to understand.
"Jean, I loved him. Do you expect me to get up and leave him the hour of his death?" Jean looked down, his face hollow and pale.
"Forgive me, Ed. I'm…trying to look out for you. I screwed up earlier…I'm sorry." I couldn't look into his face and I stared down at the red-stained dirt.
"You're right…I need to get help." I gently moved Roy's cold body off of mine and began to move. After Roy was safely off my lap and before Havoc could react, I lunged for Riza's battered body, tugging the loaded gun from her stiff fingers and turning it to my temple.
"Edward!" A frightened voice screamed out, and I felt a hand struggling with the finger I had laid on the trigger.
"Let me do this Havoc!" I sobbed out, pressing the cold metal to my flesh. "I can't live without him!" But Jean didn't loosen his grip; instead he connected his other hand with my cheek, attempting to slap some sense into me.
"You made a promise, Edward! Or have you forgotten already?" I stopped completely then, and Jean wrestled the gun from my grip, tossing it as far away from me as possible.
"…Promise…" I whispered, staring blankly ahead.
"Yes, Fullmetal! A promise to Roy! He said to live! You can't live if you blow your own Goddamn head off!"
I fell to my knees, my head lolling.
"But it hurts, Jean…he…he's gone forever." Havoc looked down at me, a mixture of pity and sadness in his eyes. He reached down and took my hand, pulling me up and supporting my injured shoulder.
"I know," He whispered, pulling me close. "And it will hurt. But you can't give up. You made a promise. Whenever you have crazy ass thoughts like you just did, you remember you made a promise to someone you loved." I broke down once again, but this time Havoc wrapped an arm around me, catching me before I fell.
'Such tragedy…We lost Roy and Riza, Havoc almost lost his life and my shoulder was mangled almost beyond repair…
And all for what? To destroy one over-zealous religion devout.
…To prove that not even religion could save someone in the final hours of life.'
'…Oh, Roy…'
…
Armstrong was waiting for Havoc and myself at the entrance of the alleyway. The two little girl alchemists that had been chained up inside the church were standing beside him; each with a hand tucked into Armstrong's larger ones.
Their eyes were wide in fear and they were still red and puffy from the countless hours of sobbing in the empty church…tormented by 'The Right Hand of God'.
"Are they all right, Armstrong?" Havoc asked quietly, subconsciously pulling me closer to him. I continued to stare at the ground, my eyes empty and only half listening to the few words my companions were speaking.
"They'll be better as soon as they're home safe again, I'm sure. How's Edward…" I felt Havoc move his head slightly, but after that, meaning the trip to the car and back to the office…everything was a blur. I somewhat remember Havoc murmuring things to me, and Armstrong comforting the two girls…but the words jumbled in my mind. All I could concentrate on was my own grief.
'Roy…Come back…'
XXX
A few days later, the office expected me to fill out reports on the mission. I initially refused and Armstrong offered to do my reports for me…but I felt much too guilty. Roy was my lover; but he and Riza were also Armstrong's close friends. I forced myself to realize I wasn't the only one hurting.
Even after promising myself I'd finish the reports on my own, I still received help from Havoc when it came to the part where I was required to write down in detail the manner of Roy's death. I was too choked up to speak and my hand wobbled too much to make my writing legible. Without warning, Havoc quietly took the pen from my hand and wrote down everything he'd witnessed that day, while I sobbed inconsolably in my seat.
'So much for taking care of everyone else…it seems as though I'm the one that needs tending to. Roy…I'm sorry I'm so bad at keeping promises.'
'I'm so…so sorry.'
XXX
Life hasn't gone on. I haven't forced myself to forget anything that happened that day…and I relieve it each night in my dreams. These past nine months have dragged on and I only barely realize what's going on around me.
I can't put the past behind me.
I turned over again in my bed, hearing the shower in the other room turn off. I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes and curling my legs up beside me. I watched Havoc step out of the bathroom; a towel wrapped around his lean hips and a cigarette already stuck between his lips.
"G'morning, Ed. Sleep well?" Jean asked while piling the pair of jeans and T-shirt that had been sitting near the bathroom door in his arms. Without waiting for the answer he knew I wouldn't give, he simply kept talking. "That's good. You don't mind that I used your shower, right? Mine broke down the other night and Fury's already kicked me out of his apartment twice…Well, do you need anything? No? Well I'm heading out into town…I'll be back later." He slipped back into the bathroom and came out dressed. He started toward the door, then hesitated and turned, walking back to my bed.
Jean leaned down toward me and after removing his cigarette; he whispered a simple 'thank you' and gave me a soft peck on the cheek. He then left in a hurry, leaving the apartment with a quiet and abandoned atmosphere.
I slowly raised my fingers to my cheek, registering the kiss.
'Havoc…that's a first.'
I rolled out of the bed, unsteady on my feet. The floorboards were cold beneath my feet and I walked stiffly to the bathroom, curling my torso over the porcelain sink, my hands supporting me.
'When did we become more than friends?'
I touched my cheek again, my lips quivering. I tipped my head back and stared at my hollow-eyed reflection in the mirror.
'I…felt it. Something stirred…I felt something.'
Something deep down inside me sparked…something I hadn't felt since the day of Roy's death.
'Damn…what am I thinking?' I sunk down to the wet tiles of the bathroom floor, my head spinning.
'I can't do this…my heart belongs only to Roy…I can't let anyone else in.
…If I do…my heart will just keep getting broken…'
I considered calling Al as I sat there, slumped over on the floor. My brother had always given me advice in our years of youth, and I could always depend on his levelheaded answers…
But I decided that I needed to start making my own decisions. I needed to get my own life straightened out. And anyway…he was living with Winry. He'd found a life with her…and he'd moved on…
So I should as well.
I should start a new life, and do the things I'd dreamed of doing.
And I would…Eventually.
XXX
But, despite my 'new outlook on life'…the next few months passed slowly. Each day was the same routine over and over again…an empty pattern that made my insides ache.
Although…there were some instances I could recall.
I don't know why but…for some reason my thoughts kept flickering back to Havoc. Every time I realized that they did, I reprimanded myself…but the damage had been done.
…I was letting my heart open once again.
I shook my head, tears pricking in my eyes at the realization.
'No! I…can't…'
"Hey, Ed. Something wrong?" The object of my thoughts entered my office, holding a stack of papers, kicking the door closed behind him.
"N-nothing." I choked out, making a vicious swipe at my eyes with my sleeve. "I'm fine." Havoc set the papers down on my desk and raised an eyebrow in my direction.
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah…don't worry." Havoc gave a lop-sided smile, then sat down on the edge of my desk, looming over me.
"Who do you think you're fooling, Fullmetal?" I turned away from him, my cheeks colouring. "…Do you think this is what Roy wanted? You to waste your life away in mourning?" I gazed down at the floor, not willing to answer. Havoc simply stood up, turning away from me.
"Ed…join me for dinner tomorrow night. You deserve a night out."
"Tomorrow is the anniversary of…" I couldn't even finish my sentence. Havoc shrugged.
"You aren't spending all day at that grave, Ed. You can't do that to yourself…it's torture. How about I come with you tomorrow…and when you're finished we go out to dinner."
"Havoc…" I said softly. I honestly didn't know what to say. The main part of me wanted to say no…wanted to spend the entire day curled up beside Roy's grave sobbing…but another, hidden part of me…
Damnit, I wanted to be with Havoc for dinner…I wanted his company.
"Jean…meet me at six." Jean gave me an incredulous look.
…He wasn't expecting me to cave in so easily, apparently. But nonetheless, he walked around the desk and bent over, whispering in my ear.
"No problem. I'll pick you up then." He gave me a slight buss on my cheek.
…It seems he has been sneaking more kisses lately…but I haven't been stopping him.
Havoc gave me a small smile and exited, closing the door softly behind him.
It wasn't until a few moments later that I noticed my knee was jumping. It took a few minutes for the realization of that movement's meaning to sink in.
'For the first time in a year…I'm excited for something.'
…I was looking forward to our date.
XXX
I knelt down beside the grave, lying the bouquet of white flowers down on the grassy mound with shaking fingers.
The sun was setting on the hillside Roy had been buried on, and the long shadow of the tombstone covered the pale petals of my roses.
The image almost seemed symbolic…or maybe that was just my own jumbled thoughts.
"Roy…" I spoke softly, feeling my heart clench painfully at even saying his name. "Is it too soon?" I whispered, lying my hand across the cool granite of the grave.
"He'd want you to be happy, you know. I'm sure when he said to live, he didn't mean for you to live completely solitary, wallowing in grief." Havoc dropped his hand down to lay a few fingertips on my cheek, standing beside me.
I subconsciously leaned in to the touch, feeling slightly guilty at the display of affection we were taking part in right in front of my former lover's grave.
"I know…" I whispered. "…And you're helping me through that. Thank you." Havoc crouched down beside me and reached out, tucking my hand in his.
I…I liked the feeling of his hand in mine. I gave him a gentle squeeze that he returned.
We stood up together, and after heaving a sigh I turned my back on Roy's grave.
It had been a year since that day…the day Roy Mustang fell.
Only now am I allowing myself a slight taste of the world outside my grief…with Havoc's help of course.
Jean slid his arm around me as we began to walk down the hill together, to the waiting car at its base. Jean pulled me close…and it felt good to once again have someone's arms around me.
It…felt right.
When we reached the car, Havoc held the door open for me, and as I slid into the seat, I chanced a final look to the top of the hillside.
'Roy…I hope this is what you wanted…I hope that I can finally start keeping my promises to you.
…Roy, I promise to live on for you…
I promise.'
XXX
AN: Figure that. I set out to make an angsty fic…and it ends up having a somewhat sweet ending.
…Curse my hopelessly romantic side…
I was inspired to write this on a Friday while I was at my cousin's house, picking up my sister. This is basically one of those fics where you make up the story around the title…
X,x;;
Hope I managed to make everyone sad…(cue maniacal laughter) …cause that's what I set out aiming to do when I created this on a moody Saturday night.
…Yeah.
Take that, you fluctuating hormones!
…uhmm...I think it's about time I left.
…Hope everyone enjoyed, nonetheless!
Hope I managed to make everyone sad…(cue maniacal laughter) …cause that's what I set out aiming to do when I created this on a moody Saturday night.
…Yeah.
Take that, you fluctuating hormones!
…I think it's about time I left.
…But before that, I must thank my reviewers, for helping me improve my stories…I appreciate all the comments and anything that helps me be a better writer... I'm VERY grateful for critiques!
And yeah…about Al…kinda forgot about him…(sheepish grin) …so I gave a little bit of reason why he's not around.
And even though he's still metal…I figure his relationship with Winry still works.
I mean Winry's so into automail and metal…he should be the man of her dreams.
…No, really. I'm serious.
…Uhmm…I hope everyone enjoys my work! (Hastily runs away)
