Al was almost starting to fall into a routine, which was making him feel much, much worse. They would give Havoc Zydrate, he would panic, or beg them not to, or sometimes get this distant kind of anger that was made even more frightening when the drugs flattened it out. Then, he would fall asleep, usually until the dose started to wear off and withdrawal began to set in. They'd leave it a bit longer each time, taking turns catching a few hours of sleep wherever they could. Then, the whole process would repeat itself.

Al knew they must be making progress, but it didn't feel like it. It just felt like they were adapting to a nightmare.

It was about time to give Havoc another dose of Zydrate, and Al still dreaded it. Roy was asleep, finally. He'd refused to get any sleep for a while, which Al had understood. Any sleep he'd managed to get had been uneasy, half-alert for the sounds of something else going wrong. But Roy had finally let himself be convinced, and he'd stumbled out into the living room and fallen asleep almost instantly, leaving Al alone with Havoc.

Al really didn't want to give him another dose. He'd done it plenty of times at this point, and he knew it had to be done, but the horror of it never really faded. Havoc clearly hadn't gotten used to it, so Al knew that he wouldn't either. Havoc had mostly stopped fighting them, but it depended on how cognizant he was. Sometimes, if he was really out of it, he would still try to push Al away.

Al shook Havoc's shoulder gently - he didn't like to do this when Havoc was asleep. It just felt too violating. Havoc's eyes slid open, and were for a second filled with nothing but confusion and panic. Then he finally found Al, and his face seemed to crumple in on itself. His expression turned into something numb and sad.

"I'm sorry," Al whispered. He knew Havoc didn't care if he was sorry. Havoc didn't need or want comfort. But Al just…he wished there was more than he could do, and it felt strange to not say anything. "I'm sorry, Jean, I…."

To Al's shock and horror, Havoc's eyes filled with tears. Still, he didn't speak, and he didn't move or try to pull away as Al gently untangled his arm from the blanket and gave him his next dose. He just stared up at Al with wide, glassy eyes, silently crying. He didn't look like himself anymore.

"I'm sorry," Al whispered again. "This is almost over, I promise. Please, Jean. Just hold on a little longer."


It had taken seven days, and a thousand lifetimes, but Havoc was finally, officially clean. They'd spaced the doses out and worked the amounts down, until Havoc could push through the withdrawal with no more than some nausea and weakness. Roy couldn't believe he'd been away from his home for less than two weeks. It had been years since he'd felt this kind of bone deep exhaustion.

Roy wanted nothing more than to get Havoc back to Amestris, and Rebecca, not to mention the fact that Roy would really prefer to be home too. But he was a little worried about how hard the journey would be on Havoc. Even though he was no longer either addicted to Zydrate or struggling through withdrawal, he was still horrifically weak. He could only manage to sit up for a couple hours a day, and he still spent most of the time sleeping. Al had saved his life by closing the stab wound in his stomach with alkahestry, but it wasn't completely healed. Now that he was off the Zydrate, Roy could worry about that instead. And all this ignoring the fact that Havoc hadn't gotten a decent meal in almost six weeks. Roy was worried about traveling with him, but he really didn't want to just keep him here forever either. They would have to leave eventually, and it was starting to seem like the sooner the better. Everything else aside, Roy was sure that staying here wasn't making it easy for Havoc to move on. He'd barely said anything to either him or Al, even in the rare moments when he was awake. Roy didn't really know how to help, and maybe he was completely wrong about taking him back to Amestris, but it was all he could think of to do.

He knew Al probably was aching to get back to his house too. When he'd called Al panicked in the middle of the night, almost two weeks ago, neither of them had expected Al to be involved this long. It was time for all of them to go home.

"I thought we might leave today," Roy ventured, when Havoc woke up. He'd already talked with Al, to make sure that moving Havoc wasn't going to reopen his stomach wound, or trigger anything else nasty, and Al had thought that it was probably alright. "Back to Amestris."

Something flickered in Havoc's eyes, but before Roy could even begin to guess what it was, it had gone. He just looked exhausted, sick, and still worryingly blank.

"Alright." Havoc's voice was quiet, but steady. Roy wished that Havoc was a little easier to read, but he didn't know if he'd like what he found.

Havoc began to push himself to a sitting position, arms shaking with the effort. The blanket slid off his shoulders, revealing a mass of horrific purplish-black bruises clustered around his sternum. He winced, his breath hissing out between clenched teeth.

Roy started forward, hands extended, and Havoc shook his head sharply. It was the most emotion Roy had seen from him in a while, and it froze him in his tracks.

"I got it," Havoc whispered, and Roy watched helplessly as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, leaning forward in obvious pain. Hands braced against the mattress, and he sat like that for a moment before straightening up as much as he could. Roy could see the line of pretty much every one of his ribs, even more so than when they'd arrived. He felt the familiar surge of frustrated anger that came from not being able to do anything to help the people he cared about. There was nothing to do but push it down and watch, and hope that at some point Havoc might heal enough to let him in.

"Can you hand me a clean shirt?" Havoc asked, still looking down at the ground. His face was almost entirely concealed by his hair, grown far too long over the past six weeks.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Roy said. Havoc almost never asked for anything, and Roy found himself practically falling over himself to get him a clean shirt. It was all Roy could do not to help Havoc pull it over his shoulders, but he knew Havoc would hate that so he left well enough alone.

It didn't take them very long to pack up. None of them had brought many belongings into the house. Al brought most of their things to their cars while Roy fussed over Havoc - forcing water on him, coaxing him to eat a few bites of food, adding layers and then seeing them removed.

"I think we're ready," Al said at last, standing in the doorway. "There's a few…I mean, it looks like someone was using this house. But there's nothing here that can be traced back to us."

"Good," Roy said. He turned to Havoc. "Are you ready?"

"Of course," Havoc said, and he smiled in a way that didn't touch his eyes. "Excited to be home."

"Can you walk?" Roy asked, trying to keep his voice from sounding too frantic. When they'd initially started this process, Roy had envisioned Havoc getting some of his strength back before they tried to move him. But Havoc had spent most of the past week in bed asleep, and now Roy knew they wouldn't have had time for that unless they stayed here another month, and none of them wanted that. Havoc could make it to the bathroom unassisted, but it was honestly a little scary to watch. Roy was nervous about a whole trip to the car.

But Havoc shook his head, and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. He wavered for a second, and Roy wanted to rush forward and grab him but he didn't dare. Havoc managed to find his balance, and started making his way out of the room.

"Sorry, are the cars out here on the street?" Havoc asked, gesturing at the front door. For a moment, Roy was confused, then he remembered that Havoc hadn't been outside yet. This would be the first time he had seen the sun in nearly two weeks.

Roy nodded, and hurried ahead of him to get the door. He noticed that Al was hovering vaguely behind Havoc, looking ready to catch him if he fell, and Havoc seemed to be allowing it. Roy doubted he would have been allowed to do that, but Al was just the kind of person who it felt okay to be taken care of by.

Havoc blinked in the sunlight, and Roy winced at how pale he was. Maybe this was too early. Even if he couldn't get Havoc back to full strength before taking him back to his home and his wife, this…when Rebecca laid eyes on Havoc, she was never going to forgive Roy.

"I guess I'll leave you here," Al said. He sounded sad, and also worried. Roy didn't blame him.

An emotion crossed Havoc's face, more than Roy had seen from him in days. "Hey, don't be a stranger, okay?"

Al's eyes lit up. "I'm hoping to visit Amestris in the next month or so. I'd love to get together if that's…if that's alright."

"Yeah," Havoc said, the corner of his mouth twisting into a smile. Roy blinked at him, wondering if he was seeing things. He hadn't seen a genuine smile, or anything close, really, in the whole two weeks they'd been here. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Great!" Al sounded almost breathless with excitement, but Roy didn't blame him. He felt the same way. Seeing even a glimmer of normality from Havoc had gone a long way towards reassuring him that he hadn't permanently ruined his friend.

Al held out a hand towards Havoc, looking as though he might have rather had a hug, but either didn't want to embarrass Havoc or didn't want to hurt him. Havoc took his hand and nodded, then shook it.

"Thanks," he said, letting go and giving Al a two-fingered salute as he turned back towards his car. Al waved back as he climbed into the car, looking significantly less worried. Roy watched Al pull out from the curb, then head down the street. He turned back to Jean, expecting him to still be by his side, but Havoc was already shakily walking towards the car.

"I can get the door," Roy said quickly and hurried after Havoc, unable to stop himself. Still, maybe he didn't need to, if Havoc really was feeling more like himself.

"I got it." Havoc responded without looking at Roy, and the knot in Roy's chest tightened again at the flat tone in his voice. Roy stopped following him just as he caught a glimpse of his face, back to exhausted and empty. The smile was gone, as though it had never been.

Roy couldn't say he was surprised. Havoc had always been good at that sort of thing, and he'd always been very aware of the people around him. If Roy had noticed that Al was worried, Havoc would have too, even in his current state. The smile, the conversation, that had all been just a show he'd put on to avoid scaring the kid any further.

For a brief moment, Roy had to stop himself from punching the car. Usually, this was a talent of Havoc's that he respected, and had benefited from more than once. But now, it was going to be nearly impossible to tell how Havoc was doing, and Roy was feeling more worried by the second. It all felt too big, too impossible to conceptualize. And if Roy felt like that, he hated to think what Havoc felt like.

Roy took a deep breath and climbed into the driver's seat. Havoc was already in the car, slumped sideways against the door, panting for breath. As Roy slid into the seat, his eyes cracked open, and he pulled himself a little more upright and made an effort to control his breathing. His eyes flicked over to Roy, like he was trying to decide if Roy had seen how badly he was hurting.

"Ready to go?" Roy asked, fighting to keep the misery out of his voice. Havoc gave him a small, guarded nod, pushing himself a little further up. Roy turned the key in the ignition and started down the street.


Havoc just wanted this journey to be over. He hated the desert, because Roy's tiny, struggling air conditioner couldn't seem to bring the car down to a reasonable temperature. He hated riding with Roy, because Roy was a terrible driver. He hated sitting up this long, because engaging the muscles in his core even just a little tugged at his barely healed stab wound. He hated the fact that Roy had made him eat that morning, because his insides were still a little rocky and the movement of the car was making him sick. He hated listening to Roy talk, because Roy seemed to have chosen the most boring subjects known to man to rattle on and on about as they drove.

"I've never seen that type of cactus before," Roy said. He made no indication as to which cactus he might be talking about. There were several in view. "Or…I suppose I must have seen it when I was driving to get you, since I took this same route. But I don't remember it. I wasn't paying attention to the cactuses the first time, which is surprising. I generally like cactuses. I actually only ever saw a cactus for the first time outside the Military Academy. I didn't grow up anywhere near the desert. I thought they were fascinating."

Roy paused, and Havoc realized he was supposed to respond. He hadn't really wanted to participate in conversation with Roy. He was still feeling vaguely guilty and embarrassed, not to mention on edge around the General. He also still had a strange, floaty feeling, like he was trapped inside his body watching his life happen to someone else. It made conversation hard.

And he still felt so sick. How was he supposed to track a conversation when he was in this much pain? Especially a boring one about cactuses.

"Mmm," Havoc managed.

Apparently that wasn't enough of a response. "Do you remember the cactuses around the Academy?"

"Yes," Havoc said softly, hoping Roy wouldn't push for more.

He did. "There were at least three or four different species that were native to that area. Those are the kinds of cactuses I'm most familiar with. The climate around the Academy was a little more moderate than this, so the types of plants they had were a bit different. It's really…."

Havoc knew Roy was trying his best. He wanted to reassure himself that Havoc was okay, and he thought the best way to do that was…whatever this was. Trying to act normal, or whatever.

Well, Havoc wasn't okay. At least, he didn't think he was. And even though Havoc knew Roy was doing what he thought was best, he thought it was obvious that prattling on about cactuses wasn't going to fix Havoc any faster.

"I don't know if you've ever touched one, but the needles-"

Havoc tuned out. He didn't mean to, exactly, but all of Roy's meaningless words were blending together into nothing more than a jumble of sound. Every time the car hit a crack in the road, Havoc felt the jolt reverberate throughout his body, sending shockwaves of pain throughout his system. He thought it should hurt less now, not more, but the wound in his abdomen hurt so badly that even breathing pained him.

He didn't know if it was the pain, or the food, or the suffocating heat, but after a while the nausea mounting in the back of his throat grew nigh unbearable. Havoc closed his eyes and swallowed it back, grimly used to the routine by now. He'd been semi-conscious for a lot of the past few weeks, but he still remembered the feeling of throwing up until there was nothing left inside him, and then still somehow continuing. He'd thrown up enough to last a lifetime, and he did not want to force the car to stop.

Unfortunately, the things Havoc wanted rarely seemed to happen nowadays. A few minutes later, Havoc's stomach was twisting badly enough that he knew he was out of time. At this point, he was either going to have to ask Roy to stop the car, or he was going to throw up on the floor.

"The flowers are quite beautiful, too, in a desert kind of way. Riza doesn't like flowers much, but I-"

"You need to pull over," Havoc managed in a rush, clapping his hand over his mouth as soon as he finished talking, swallowing hard to hold the bile back.

Roy, to his credit, instantly stopped talking, and before Havoc really had time to think about it the car was sliding to a stop. He fumbled at the door, half-falling out as soon as it was open. His legs crumpled beneath him as soon as they hit the hard-packed surface of the asphalt and Havoc slithered to the ground, doing his best to brace himself on the car as he went down.

The wound in his stomach was screaming at him, and Havoc sagged against the tire as his core refused to engage. The heat from the desert made his head spin, and he tried to take a deep breath, but as soon as he opened his mouth he was vomiting onto the road.

Havoc groaned in between retching, one hand braced against the tire, the other flat against the hot asphalt. Behind him, he could hear the car door slam shut, and Roy appeared in his periphery, looking vaguely uneasy. Probably, after the past week, Roy had seen enough vomit to last a lifetime too. Havoc wouldn't be surprised if he didn't come any closer.

"God." Havoc spat uselessly. He had an arm wrapped around his middle, and he was trying not to lean forward too much. The nausea was terrible, but if there was one thing that had come of the past two weeks, at least he was fucking used to it. But the pain in his chest seemed to have ratched up to new levels. He didn't remember his ribs hurting this much when he'd first arrived in the house, but then again, he had been pretty distracted by the stab wound.

"Are you-"

"Give me a minute," Havoc said. He thought it might have sounded meaner than he intended, but maybe it just sounded sadder. His stomach was still churning. He was sure that if he got in the car again, he was going to throw up again. Hell, he was probably going to throw up again anyways, but at least this way he would be outside. He hated that he was adding more time onto this horrible journey, but it did kind of seem like just his luck.

"Do you need anything?" Roy asked. Havoc heard the sound of his approaching footsteps, even over his own ragged breathing. "Water, or…."

"I need to know why my ribs hurt so goddamn bad," Havoc ground out.

He'd meant it as a joke, or…not a joke, exactly, but certainly not a serious question that he expected an answer to. But Roy froze. And then, a second later, he backed up a step.

"Jean, I-"

Roy's voice sounded high and strangled. Havoc turned to look at him. He stared back with a numb sort of expression on his face. Havoc thought he looked a shade paler than normal, but that could have been from watching someone vomit.

"I didn't mean to," Roy said suddenly, all in a rush. "I…your ribs…they're broken. I broke them. When I was giving you CPR. After your heart stopped. I'm sorry, I thought you knew. I don't know why. The bruises…."

Havoc opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. He knew he'd been given Zydrate against his will. It would have been easier to blame Roy, but he didn't, not really. He probably couldn't have beared to watch someone he knew suffer like that either, and it hadn't really been a fair thing for him to put Roy and Al through.

But…his heart had stopped. Roy had given him CPR to keep him from dying. Havoc knew it had been bad, but honestly, the worst few days were a blur of pain and nothingness. He didn't remember most of it.

Roy clearly did.

Havoc shivered slightly, even though the desert air was hot enough that his shirt was clinging to his skin. Here he was, alive, able to feel the heat and cold. This journey was terrible, but Rebecca was waiting for him at the end of it. He had come very, very close to never being able to see her again. It was only thanks to Roy and Al that he could.

With some surprise, Havoc realized he was shaking harder. He'd thought he was past all this, numb enough that nothing else would touch him, even if he might want it to. But god, he hadn't realized that he'd died. That…that scared the shit out of him.

In a way, that was a relief. If the thought of being dead scared him that badly, then he wanted to live after all. And that was good, because it meant he could survive this, even if it still felt nearly impossible.


Roy had really thought Havoc had known he'd almost died. Now, for the life of him, he couldn't think why. He'd been unconscious, and then so drugged up that he could barely remember his own name, so how was he supposed to know that his heart had stopped?

And that was a truly terrible thing to drop on somebody. As soon as the words had crossed his lips, Havoc had started shaking. As much as Roy had prayed to see emotion in his face earlier, now he kind of wished he could take it back.

But before he could say anything, or apologize, or whatever you were supposed to do when you accidentally told one of your best friends that he'd died, Havoc crumpled forward and began throwing up again. He was only supporting himself with one arm, the other wrapped protectively around his ribs and stomach, and both were shaking.

Roy couldn't take it anymore. He'd originally hung back because Havoc had clearly wanted his space, and Roy didn't want to violate his trust any further. But he seemed to be doing everything wrong anyway, and it looked like Havoc was about to fall face first onto the street, and Roy was not about to stand back and watch that.

Hesitantly, Roy approached Jean's shuddering form and laid a cautious hand on his shoulder. Much to his surprise, Havoc didn't immediately pull away. At first, he thought that he simply might not have noticed, but as the gagging subsided slightly, Roy could have sworn that Havoc actually relaxed into the touch.

Emboldened, Roy moved his hand down to Havoc's back, rubbing in between his shoulder blades as Havoc leaned forward again, groaning miserably. He tried not to think about how sharp the bones felt beneath his hand, as though Havoc's skin was barely stretched on top of them.

Havoc tilted forward a little more, and Roy squatted down beside him, reaching his other hand out to catch his shoulder and support more of his weight. Havoc flinched, just a little, but let him stay.

Roy remembered vomiting on the lonely side of a desert road just two weeks before. He'd been so sure Havoc was dead that he'd had a panic attack while driving. He'd been all alone then, and completely positive the world was about to be just a little bit more empty.

But Roy could feel Havoc's back beneath his hand. He had been through hell, but he was real and solid and very much alive. Roy was almost overwhelmed with emotion. Things were bad now, but only two weeks ago they had been so much worse. As long as Havoc was still here with him, still trusted him - that was a foundation he could build on.

After a moment, Havoc spat onto the ground and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He sat back on his heels, but he looked so unsteady like that that Roy carefully guided him backwards, so he could lean against the wheel of the car.

"Do you need some water?" Roy asked. "Don't have to swallow, just rinse your mouth out…."

The words were a familiar mantra by this point. They had been repeated so often over the past weeks that there was something almost comforting about them. Havoc nodded slightly.

Roy left and returned to Havoc's side as quickly as possible, water in hand. Havoc took a few tentative sips, even managing to swallow one of them. He still looked rather pale and waxy, and his bangs were matted to his forehead with sweat.

"I'm sorry," Roy said awkwardly. Havoc hadn't had much of an appetite the past week, but he'd managed to keep most everything down once he'd gotten back on Zydrate. "Was it just…the movement of the car, or…?"

"Think so," Havoc said. His voice sounded dry and scratchy, but to Roy's surprise, not quite so numb as it had before. There was a long pause. "I'm…sorry too. I'm sure you've had enough of this."

"No, no, I haven't," Roy said earnestly. Then paused - that wasn't quite right, not quite what he meant. "I mean…I don't mind. I would have missed you."

Havoc chuckled, but he didn't sound fully relaxed. Roy felt there must be more to say.

"All I mean is you're my friend," Roy finally finished lamely.

"Well thanks," Havoc said softly. He didn't sound guarded.

"Did you want to…are you ready to keep driving? I can always pull over again-"

"Actually, would you mind if we just sit here a minute? I think the fresh air is doing me some good."

Roy wouldn't exactly call the air in the middle of the desert "fresh," but he knew what Havoc meant. "Of course," he said.

For a few minutes, they just sat there in silence. Roy had expected it to feel awkward, like the car ride had been. He had been preparing himself to try to resist the urge to talk to fill the silence - he knew full well that Havoc didn't want to hear about cactus facts. He just hadn't known what else to do.

But this silence felt more comfortable. It didn't mean that Havoc was trapped in his own head, it just meant that he felt sick and he didn't want to talk right now. He was going to be okay.

"Oh shit," Havoc said suddenly, and Roy turned towards him, already starting to panic.

"What is it?"

"What day is it?" Havoc asked, narrowing his eyes. "I…I kinda lost track of time."

To be honest, Roy had as well. It had been a long time, he knew that much. Too long. But he wasn't sure of the exact day. He narrowed his eyes, doing his best to add up the days in his mind.

"October tenth? The eleventh?"

"Oops," Havoc said quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching. "You missed your birthday party. Uhh, sorry."

That actually startled Roy into a laugh. His birthday had passed while he'd been in Xing, and he hadn't thought about it once.

"That's okay. Edward planned it, so I probably would have hated it anyway."

That got a laugh from Havoc as well, much to Roy's surprise. It was small, and a little shaky, but it was certainly a laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure you would have."

After that, they sat quietly by the car for a little longer, until Havoc was ready to keep going. This time, he let Roy help him back into the car.

The rest of the drive passed without incident. Roy could tell that Havoc still felt a little nauseous, but he didn't need to stop again. In what seemed like almost the blink of an eye, Roy was pulling his car to a stop in front of Havoc and Rebecca's tiny apartment in Central.

Havoc climbed out of the car, moving faster than Roy had seen in weeks. He looked like the effort pained him, but Roy wasn't surprised. He must just be relieved to be home. Roy certainly was.

Roy got out of the car too, closing the door and leaning against it.

Riza and Rebecca came out at the same time. Roy had missed Riza, of course, but so much had been happening that it hadn't quite felt real to him, and had been easy to push to the side. But now that he actually saw her, he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms. And then he wanted to go home and take the longest nap he'd ever taken in his life.

Riza sensed she wouldn't be welcome in Rebecca and Jean's reunion right now, and she walked to Roy. She didn't say anything, but she took his hand. That was all the invitation Roy needed, and he dragged her against him and wrapped a hand around her waist. He realized he was shaking, just a little, and he thought it must be some sort of delayed shock as his body caught up to the fact that this was finally, finally over.

If Riza had come home, and she had looked like Havoc did now - twenty pounds lighter, with too-long hair and pale skin, walking bent with pain - it probably would have given him pause. He wasn't sure he'd be able to touch her right away, too worried to hurt her further.

But Rebecca didn't hesitate. As soon as she laid eyes on Havoc she ran to him, and threw herself at him so hard he stumbled backwards. His hands were around her instantly.

Rebecca had started crying possibly before she had even hugged Havoc, and even from his spot against the car, Roy could see her sobbing. To Roy's slight discomfort, he realized Havoc's shoulders were shaking too. For a second, Roy worried something was wrong, but Havoc pulled Rebecca closer, and Roy realized that while this was emotional, nothing was wrong. Just intense.

Havoc was safe. He was home. And even if things would never be exactly like they were before, things would be okay.

Roy was sure of it.