Roy watched silently as Silas finished up Ed's examination, only half listening as the young doctor babbled on about the intellectual benefits of polka. Roy was far too distracted trying to figure out what he was going to say to Ed to pay much attention.

It had been just over a week since he had spoken to the Fuhrer. Roy had stalled filling out the paper work for as long as possible, but his time was up. He had finished the last of it that morning and it would be processed the next day. That meant the Elrics had to be out of the barracks in three days' time.

And Roy still had no idea how he was going to tell them.

"So naturally, that makes polka the most accessible for all ages!" Silas concluded as he finished securing the final bandage around Ed's bare torso and taking a step back from the bed. "There, all done! How does it feel?"

Ed slowly propped himself up with one arm and Al's steadying hand on his back, murky eyes narrowed in thought. He looked like some kind of faux mummy, with bandages crisscrossing over every bit of visible skin. He turned his head toward Silas. "It's fine."

Roy decided that Ed looked a lot better than he had even a few days ago. Roy had been accompanying Doctor Silas every time he stopped by Ed's dorm in the evenings, and he couldn't deny that the boy was improving much faster than he had in the hospital. Physical injuries were starting to heal, and his coloring wasn't quite as washed anymore. He was even putting on a bit of weight with the implementation of his new diet, the shadows between his ribs less pronounced than they had been at the beginning of the week.

Even more encouraging was his behavior. Alphonse reported that he was getting more sleep, and his appetite was slowly returning to something healthier instead of the ravenous, starved sort of desperation he had been exhibiting at mealtime. Al even said some of his temper was starting to return in small doses. Silas mentioned that it wouldn't be too much longer before his work here was done.

"Well, everything is looking great!" Silas informed enthusiastically as he pulled out his pen light and flashed it in Ed's eyes, with the boy none the wiser. Silas' expression darkened slightly, apparently not finding what he wanted, but that didn't stop his stream of happy chatter. "Alphonse tells me you've been getting up and around some?"

Ed grimaced, as if remembering something particularly distasteful. "Some."

"Excellent!" Silas said approvingly, putting away his instruments into his bag. "Definitely some improvement, then! Tell me, how are you getting around? How is your balance?"

Ed looked like this was the last thing he wanted to talk about. He shifted uncomfortably, the way he used to when he came to Roy's office after a particularly destructive mission. "It's okay."

"Brother . . ." Al warned.

Ed scowled.

He actually scowled.

Roy almost couldn't help the grin that tried to tear across his face in response. How long had it been since he had seen that expression on Ed's face? Something other than passive agitation and blatant terror . . . it was so normal, so very Ed that Roy almost wanted to laugh.

"It's disorienting," Ed said, voice dark and just a bit petulant that his brother was putting him on the spot. "I get dizzy and disoriented and have flashbacks, so then I sit on the ground and cry like a baby until Al comes to get me. That better?"

That wiped the grin from Roy's face . . . but still, Ed hiding things like that, that he was getting angry and defensive, that was a good sign, wasn't it? It was more Ed-like, so it had to be some kind of improvement.

"Ah, well, that's to be expected," Silas said, as if Ed had just stated the sun rose from the east. "The disorientation will go away with time, but I brought you something that should help a bit with moving." He reached beside him and picked up a long, thin cane, then gently took Ed's hand and placed the instrument in his grip.

Ed frowned, accepting the wooden device. He placed it in his lap and ran his hand up and down its polished surface. "A . . . stick?" he asked, sounding unimpressed.

"It's a walking stick!" Silas exclaimed with what Roy thought was an undue amount of enthusiasm.

Ed's expression darkened considerably. "I don't want it."

"Brother—"

"No," Ed growled, holding the cane out for Silas to take back. "I'm not using that."

Roy frowned. "What's wrong with it, Fullmetal? It'll keep you from breaking your neck."

Ed jumped as if he had forgotten Roy was there entirely. That only served to annoy him further, though. "It's bad enough not being able to see without also having to look like an invalid," he muttered, and when no one took the cane from him, he threw it on the ground.

Apparently, he hadn't been expecting the subsequent clatter.

He jumped a mile, eyes widening in terror as he jerked away from the noise like a gunshot. He pressed his body against the wall and went deathly still, hand wrapped around his throat.

No one breathed.

"Ed?" Al finally whispered.

Just the sound of his brother's voice was enough to snap him out of whatever flashback had begun to play in his head. He frowned for a second in confusion, then realization seemed to dawn on him. His face suddenly twisted into a snarl and he struck out at the wall with an automail foot and a curse, leaving a dent in the plaster. "This is so STUPID!" he hissed, kicking the wall again for good measure.

Silas turned to give Roy a pointed look, as if he somehow knew what to do.

Roy stepped forward. "Fullmetal," he said gently.

Ed stopped his unceremonious destruction of the wall and crossed his legs in front of him, head hanging low and frustration written plain as day on his face. "Are we done, Doctor?" he asked, voice suddenly reserved as his sightless eyes stared at his lap.

Silas smiled, but it wasn't nearly as chipper as it had been before. "Yeah, we're done. Your brother here mentioned your automail mechanic would come to see about repairing your arm and leg?"

Ed's face tightened, but he didn't otherwise respond.

"She can't make it to Central for another two weeks," Al said, cautious eyes on Ed. Roy felt like he was missing something, but didn't ask. He found it odd that it would take the girl so long, especially if she knew the circumstances. Which probably meant Ed hadn't allowed Alphonse to tell her the circumstances.

Silas didn't ask, either. "I had your therapy scheduled starting next week, but since you'll need some working limbs, we can either get you fitted with some temporary ones—"

"No."

"—or we can just move the appointment back," Silas continued with a wry smile. "I'll don't have the appointments set up for your psychiatrist yet, but once I get those done, I'll pass the info along to Roy."

"You're wasting your time," Ed growled. "I told you before, I'm not seeing some shrink."

Silas' smile widened knowingly. "Well, it'll at least give you the option, in case you change your mind. I'll go ahead and get out of your hair, then." He picked up his bag and made for the door. "I'll see myself out!" he called cheerily before leaving the room and shutting the door firmly behind him, his loud whistling fading down the hall.

Al watched his brother stare at his lap. Roy looked back and forth between them.

The silence was terribly uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat, making Ed jump. "Well," he said slowly, "Didn't you want to go to the library, Alphonse?"

Ed's breathing hitched and his body stiffened.

Al's soul-fire eyes locked on Ed. "Well, I don't think that—"

"Just go, Al," Ed said, the last traces of the earlier fire gone from his voice and leaving something weak and husky in its place.

Al sighed—a strange noise, coming from a suit of armor— and slowly headed for the door. "I won't be gone long, okay? Promise."

"Take your time," Ed said. Roy knew he didn't mean it.

Al opened the door and turned to give Roy a hard stare. Take care of him.

Roy nodded.

Al closed the door, once again enveloping the room in silence.

Roy stared at Ed, his mind spinning as he tried to find a way to bring up the topic that he would give anything to avoid. How was he supposed to tell him? Was there a gentle way to say it? He should have brought Hawkeye . . . she always knew what to say—

Ed moved, jarring Roy from his thoughts, and he focused on the boy again. His eyes had gone wide and Roy noticed the faint trembling of his hand and the way his breathing suddenly accelerated. He reached out blindly, groping around the bed for something.

"Ed?" Roy asked softly.

Ed flinched, but didn't stop his search. "I . . . I need . . ."

Roy stepped forward and, almost without thinking, put his wrist in Ed's path.

His eyes widened in surprise, but he immediately latched on to it, fingers tightening around Roy's arm. He took a slow, shuddering breath, eyes falling shut. "Where's the blanket?" he whispered after a moment.

Roy glanced around and spotted it partially shoved under the bed. Careful not to break contact, he picked it up with his other hand and placed it on Ed's lap.

Ed held on a moment longer, staring intently as if waging some kind of internal battle, then slowly let go of Roy's wrist. Roy watched as he struggled with one hand to wrap the blanket around himself, then unfolded his body and slid from the bed to the floor, sliding across the ground until he had his back pressed to the wall. He settled there, still holding his eyes closed, and looked like he was trying very hard to control his breathing.

Roy wished desperately he knew what to say. He wished he was good with words, the way Hughes had been. He wished he could just whisper something and banish Ed's fear entirely.

Instead, he had come to bring more bad news down on the child's head.

Maybe this wasn't a good time . . .

"Are you alright?" Roy finally asked from his awkward position standing in the middle of the dorm.

A small, humorless smile twitched at Ed's lips. "That's a stupid question, Mustang."

"I guess it is," Roy smirked, but the expression he usually wore so easily was now weighted, heavy on his lips. "What was that about?"

The smile vanished from Ed's face. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"That's a stupid answer, Fullmetal," Roy countered. He stepped up to the wall and put his back to it, sliding down to sit on the floor next to Ed with a tired sigh. He sat close enough to let their shoulders touch, a simple, supportive contact. During his stay at the hospital, the boy had often sought out the touch of himself, Alphonse, Havoc and Hawkeye. Ed never explained why, but Roy suspected it had to do with making sure someone was actually there, that it wasn't some kind of hallucination. Or maybe in some way it was like looking someone in the eyes when he could no longer see.

Ed stiffened at the touch, but didn't otherwise respond.

Roy took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any. "I have something I need to talk to you about."

Ed let out a quiet, mirthless laugh. "Sounds bad."

"It's . . . not good."

Give him a superior officer, a politician or a woman and Roy could talk them in circles. With a few well-placed words, Roy could get a crowd to laugh or cry.

Give him a broken child and Roy could barely string together a sentence.

"Not good?" Ed asked, the shattered smile spreading across his face, as sharp and painful as broken glass. "Well, whatever it is, I can promise you I've heard worse."

Not much worse . . .

"It's about . . . well, I don't know how to tell you, to be honest," Roy said, staring at his booted feet and Ed's own mismatched pair in front of them. The automail foot glinted brightly in the fading light from the window.

"Just spit it out, Mustang."

Roy took another deep breath and told him.

Ed didn't say anything.

And Roy tried to pretend he didn't see Ed's tears even as he wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders and pulled him close.

They stayed like that for a long time. They stayed like that until the sun outside had finally dipped below the horizon, plunging the room into deep shadows and hushed silence. They stayed that way until Ed's breaths evened out and he finally quieted. Outside, the security gas lamps flickered on, sending in a stream of golden light to paint the desk and the floor on the other side of the room.

Beside him, Ed heaved a shuddering sigh.

"There's nothing left, then, is there?" Ed whispered into Roy's shoulder. "This is it."

The word "devastation" didn't do the tone justice, but Roy could think of nothing else to describe the voice emanating from the young alchemist. "No," he said, his own voice hushed. "Of course not."

Ed's hand suddenly clenched, bunching Roy's uniform jacket in a tight fist. "Don't patronize me, Mustang. Please, not now."

Roy blinked. Did he really think Roy was that heartless? To actually belittle him at a time like this?! "Ed, I'm not patronizing you. I'm serious. It's not over. It's not over until you and Al have your bodies back."

Again, that humorless laugh. Roy almost preferred the devastation over that self-depreciating mockery. "Then you're an idiot. And so am I. I'm an idiot for thinking I could raise the dead and for dragging Al into it with me. And I'm an idiot for thinking I could somehow get out of paying the price for it." He put his shaky hand to his face, covering his eyes as if he could somehow hide them from himself. "I guess this is the price for even trying to skirt the laws of Equivalency."

Maybe it was the fact that Ed sounded like he had already given up, that he had been beaten by this. Maybe it was because Ed was the strongest person Roy knew, and to hear things like that coming from him . . . it shook Roy to the core.

Either way, Roy Mustang's temper burned.

"You listen to me, Ed," he hissed, his voice suddenly as searing as his alchemy. Ed went ridged beside him, but Roy only tightened his hold on the boy. "Listen to me. You're hurt, and Al's not here, so I guess you're just not thinking straight, but I will not allow you to continue down that train of thought, do you understand me?"

Ed tried to pull away, but Roy's grip wouldn't allow it. "Stop that," he ordered, and Ed's struggling ceased. "Do you hear me, Ed? I order you not to give up. You're going to beat this. I don't know how, I don't know when, but you're going to get through this somehow. And when you do, you're going to pick up right where you left off and someday, you're going to get your bodies back. I will not allow you to just give up. Do you understand me, Fullmetal?"

Ed didn't answer.

"I just gave you an order!"

"Sir," Ed managed to squeak, voice small and surprised.

Roy couldn't quite keep the smile off of his face as he rested his chin on the blond head. "That's better."

Because, Roy supposed, even the strongest people couldn't be strong all the time. Sometimes you just needed someone else to be your strength for a little while.

The ensuing silence wasn't so pervasive anymore. At least for Roy, there was a bit of peace to it, a resolve that permeated the night air.

A hope that maybe, somehow, this could turn out alright.

"Mustang?" Ed asked.

"Hmm?"

"You're a jerk."

Roy huffed a quiet laugh. Never again would he take those insults for granted, or the hidden messages behind them; the one's Ed could rarely voice but always held the most weight.

Thanks.

And after what Roy had done . . . after all he had put the boy through, this was the least he could do for him. He had complete confidence that, child or not, if anyone could pull through this, it was Ed. Even if he needed some help along the way.

"Brat."

You're welcome.


D'aaaw c:

Okay, I didn't like the last chapter as much, but I liked this one lol (yay for Parental Roy xD). Hope you did, too! And I updated on time! Be proud c:

Some of you guys have pointed out a lack of Winry. I know she briefly came up in this chapter, but I still feel the need to address it. Because what's an author's note without me making one of these disclaimer sort of things haha :'D

To set this up, I like Winry. I totally ship her and Ed, since it's cannon. I likes it. I can't write it to save my life, but I likes it. Moving on; just from my observations and stuff, I don't really think Ed even acknowledges the possibility of being interested in her as more than a friend until, like, episode 50. Their whole relationship seems pretty platonic and sibling-like until the Briggs business, and since I sort of have this story taking place around the time Mustang moves to Central, I really don't think she would be on his mind just tons at this point, aside from some bouts of homesickness. And really, since Ed's been busy dealing with a lot of other things at this point, he really hasn't had a chance to get homesick yet.

But there's also another reason I opted to sort of not make her a big deal in this fic: I didn't want to detract from the story and have too many things going at once, you know? This is primarily a parental Roy fic, not a EdWin fic, so I just don't want to emphasize it too much xD But, if you can't tell by this chapter, Winry is going to pop up soon. Hope that satisfies/is acceptable lol :'D

Whew. And now, THANK YOU GUYS! You guys are amazing and legit and I am super thankful for every reader/review/favorite :) You guys are the best and every review makes me want to write more. Thanks for the encouragement, and I feel humbled and blessed to have you guys here reading my writing. I'm glad you're here! :) Thanks for the support!

I shall respond to all reviews from the last chapter tonight/tomorrow-ish!

Back to art commissions! *dies*

See you next chapter ;)

God Bless,

-RainFlame