DISCLAIMER: I will alchemify your brain if you attempt to sue me because FMA is not mine. Should you proceed to attempt AFTER I kill your brain, small bunnies will fly from the sky and eat you.
I've gotta say, those reviews were the most I've ever gotten for any single chapter aside from the amazingly slow-moving Never Saw the Sun...Star Wars and writers block aren't good...
Dark-spirit: It's not all that romantic yet, per se, it will be soon, I swear. I just need something a little out of the mainstream to spark my creativity. (smiles)
Del'Cera Osirin: Too lazy to log in much? No, I know you had comp issues. I'll continue because, as you have seen, Geometry class is simply excellent for these kinds of stories...
Nny2you: Thanks so much! I'll work extra-hard to get a new chapter up!
Pheonixalchemist: I updated! YAY! Read and review! And I hope you don't die, if I give you cookies, will that help?
Review!
Chapter One
Tourniquet of Tears
Droplets on the Linoleum
It was still pouring, and it had begun to thunderstorm. It was very nearly 10:00, and there was still the ever-present threat of what damage Roy could do to himself. The older man glanced up with red eyes at the latest crack of thunder, beginning to wonder aloud.
"What worth does my life hold?" he asked to the clouds, unaware that his thought had been aloud. "Nothing. I have nothing to live for."
Edward Elric heard these words and felt something in his heart stop. The bastard saying he had nothing to live for? Impossible...he shook his head in exhaustion but knew he had to stay with the Flame.
"You still have your dream to become Fuhrer, don't you?" the young alchemist demanded, and when he received no response, he began to worry even more, if that was possible.
"Well then, maybe it's time you found something more to live for," the teenager completed.
He heard the thunder, and the rain, but in his mind there were still the screams, the roar of cannons, the cries of children from Ishbal. And they had all died at the military's hand.
I can't kill you, he realized, a split second before it was too late and the sword was jammed into his chest, digging between his ribs. He choked out blood, not even feeling the pain as he swung the sword out and used it to slash the man's throat out. Later, the Rockbells, who worked as doctors for both sides, would tell him that he was lucky to be alive. And of course, he went to fight as soon as he could stand again. Some called it a miracle. Others—the Ishbalans—would call it justice.
A few more tears dropped out of his eyes, and subconsciously remembering where his pocketknife was, he began once more to slash at his arms. Blood droplets gently dripped onto the floor, making Ed look up. He didn't realize where the sound was coming from, thought that it was just the rain. And then he walked over to the older man, talking softly and haltingly.
"Mustang—let's go somewhere—your house, somewhere you can rest, please? There's nothing you can do by staying here, we're going to your home, alright?" he asked tentatively. The Colonel wasn't used to taking orders often, but he followed as if in a daze, past the door threshold to his office, past the stair entry, and dripping blood from his drenched sleeve all the way. Some hit the stairs, some stained his shoes. But it wasn't like it mattered anyway.
Out late in the rain, the Colonel's coat was draped over his shoulders, thanks to Edward, who was certain Mustang was going to get sick. Finally reaching the house, by Mustang's direction, he was relieved to see the man becoming more of himself again. Entering hurriedly from the cold rain that was now mixed with sleet, Ed looked around. It was a mansion, mostly painted in warm colours that weren't unlike the flames Roy loved to use. But the man...he stood in the doorway, looking more than a little disappointed in himself, he had barely said anything, and it felt like he was trapped in his own body without a way out. Stumbling over to the couch in a daze, he sat slouched over while he watched Ed light a fire in the fireplace directly in front of him.
"I was right," Ed said, almost triumphantly.
"About what, halfmetal?" he snapped, once again regretting it after the events of the evening. He sat back.
"You just need something...something to live for. Equivalent exchange. You give something, you take something. Your life is what you're giving. What will you decide to take?"
"My life..." he growled. "I was almost strong enough to pull the trigger. Almost. Why did you walk in?" he demanded, not angry but more sad than anything else. Pity for the older man overtaking him, the Elric padded over to the Colonel, awkwardly wrapping his two arms around his shoulders in a loose embrace. The officer leaned into his subordinate, seeking the comfort that he somehow knew that only the younger one could give.
"Maybe you could be my reason, Ed," he murmured to the already-asleep teen, gently kissing him on the cheek and letting him drift off to sleep, cozy in front of the fire. He slept the entire night, not noticing when Ed periodically woke up to make sure the man was going to be ok.
"Hello, this is Lieutenant Hawkeye speaking."
"This is the Fullmetal Alchemist. The Colonel won't be coming to work today, Riza," he said through the phone. "He's sick and last night I had to stay here to make sure he'd be alright."
"I'll have Havoc bring his paperwork later today, Edo-chan. Bye," she said, hanging up.
"Who was that?" Roy asked, dragging himself downstairs for either breakfast or to talk.
"Hawkeye. I told her you wouldn't be in today," he said, staring him down pointedly. "I called Al too so he wouldn't worry," he sighed. It made Roy wonder when the alchemist had become so mature.
"I've got work to do..." he groaned, collapsing in a chair and grudgingly accepting a plate of toast.
"You're not going, Mustang," he said, blushing a little at the thought of controlling the older man. Sitting down, he impulsively reached out and grabbed Roy's hand, blushing furiously as he did. "It'll all be okay, I promise," he said, both reassuring himself and comforting Mustang.
'At least he doesn't know how I feel...or at least I hope he doesn't...' Ed thought, more than a little nervous now. But as Roy gulped down his daily unhealthy amount of coffee, he realized it didn't really matter at the moment; as long as he could keep the man from himself, it never would.
The final hints of the night had finally left, though by now Edward knew how much Mustang preferred the dark. Drawing the curtains open against the cloudy grey sky, he realized that despite the rain the previous night, it could snow today.
"Colonel?"
"Yes, Fullmetal?" Roy called back, finally downstairs and dressed in a plain—but relatively tight-fitting—white shirt and non-military pants. A black coloured light jacket laid over his muscular frame, and Ed blushed boyishly for the third time that day.
"Can—can we go outside for a little?" he asked, knowing how childish it sounded. Most of the time he hated snow, but right now it seemed so—so pure.
"You can. I'll stay in here," Roy grumbled, hating the snow. Water dampened his gloves, didn't allow him to release the fire that came so readily in other weather. And water usually came via rain...tears...Depressing himself easily, he strode over the the sofa where he had spent the night, declaring, "I'll be right here when you get back, shrimp."
Of course, the response was a large crash from the coat hanger, and some muffled yelling.
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT HE COULD BE MISTAKEN FOR A SHRIMP!"
"Nobody, Fullmetal..."
As soon as the door slammed, Roy let out a loud laugh that rang throughout the entire house, finally merry in time for the holidays. While Fullmetal was out, he could decorate, he supposed.
Pressing his hands to the ground, Edward watched as snow was forced into the shape of a snowman. Seeing the passers-by gathered around in awe, he decided a few more things could be done. Clapping his hands once more, he made a rough black hat, and while receiving applause, fashioned an orange-shaped cone for the nose. Different praises rang through the air, until one onlooker said the wrong thing...
"What a talented child!"
Turning around slowly, Ed started shouting immediately.
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THAT HE COULD BE MISTAKEN FOR A KID!"
The entire crowd had managed to disappear within twenty seconds, amazement turned to respectful fear. Apparently the child had a temper to match his skills...
"What's the matter, Fullmetal? You were outside for what...twenty minutes?" Roy inquired.
"Nothing. I built a snowman. And came inside." Chuckling, Mustang grabbed another string of lights for the tree that had sat undecorated only a moment ago. "And my name's Edward, not Fullmetal."
"Alright. Ed. Help me get these untied. I'd like to finish decorating."
"Whatever you say, bastard," he sighed, while his heart was saying simply 'oh Roy, if only you knew...'
Roy was unsettled, annoyed, depressed, and upset. With himself. It was around midnight, Ed was soundly asleep in the guest room across the hall, and there were more than fifteen kinds of pills in front of him. An overdose of any single one could kill him... why did he need to die though?
The cannons roared with fire, as the Flame Alchemist met the resistance on the front lines. Snapping once, he allowed the fire to consume and burn every single soldier in front of him, mostly enemy soldiers. It made things so much easier. You didn't have to watch your victims die, their eyes glazing over as they cried out in sheer agony. As the life was slowly, painfully, unmercifully sapped from their dying bodies. As their souls were released to plague the killer. Yes, the Ishbalans had been right. His life was saved due to divine justice.
And then he was crying again.
The sound of soft crying awoke the Elric, leading him to get out of bed. Dressed in his boxers and a black nightshirt, he didn't even bother knocking on the other bedroom door as he gently pushed it aside. Seeing Roy sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, forced a sudden uprising of pity and caring from him.
"Roy? Are you alright?" Whispering different things to the man, he sat down.
"Ed..." Mustang cried, still haunted by the memories, the nightmares.
"I'm here," he said, finally taking control and closing his mouth over Roy's. Breaking off from the kiss, he finished the thought. "I'll be here for as long as you need me." The Colonel's response to that was to lean in for another kiss, pulling his shirt off as he clung to the blonde.
It may have been in desperation, love, or thanks, Ed didn't know. But he did know that he was in heaven. At the same time, Roy gently ran his hand down Ed's back, learning how to deal with what would most likely be a long night.
It took longer than a day...I still don't like the way it came out. I'm really sorry that this chappy sucks. I told you the first few chapters would be a little OOC, we're going more into character and away from depressy Roy next.
I promise, no more suicide attempts or anything either. Who knows where else this story will lead though, please submit requests for later chapters! I'll write them depending on how much I like it.
-Anij Jinn
