There was flash of gold, so quick to pass that he nearly thought he'd imagined it. He had been imaging blurs of gold, red, and black for some time now. Being isolated in a small cottage to the north did nothing for his mental state.

They were just hallucinations. That's what they always were and that's what it was this time. Hallucinations. Because there was absolutely no way he was here in solid form.

Roy sighed, brushing the snow from his shoulders and readjusting the patch covering his eye. It wouldn't do him any good to stand in the cold waiting for a ghost. No, he wasn't a ghost. He was still alive somewhere and Roy refused to believe he was truly gone for good. Nothing could bring him down that easily.

Nothing.

He turned towards the door and the flash was there again but not blurred with the same shades as before. The bright red and dark black had given way to browns and even a subtle flash of white. His hallucinations were morphing, changing into something unrecognizable. On the one hand, he thanked his mind for finally changing them instead of instilling on him the ache of what once was. On the other, the ache to see those oh so familiar colors nearly overpowered the one of pain.

Roy faced the door again, hand barely turning the knob before he stopped, breath caught in his throat and body rooted to where it stood.

"So, you gonna let me in or am I gonna freeze my ass off out here waiting for you to move?"

It couldn't be. His mind was just finding new ways to be cruel, cook up a new sort of torture.

Even so he couldn't dismiss just how real and how familiar the voice sounded and how it rubbed against every nerve in his body causing it to tingle right down to his fingertips.

"Either I'm talking to a statue or you're just getting really old."

Roy tried to breathe as he turned to face the colors and shapes that finally came into focus. His lungs wouldn't allow it even though they burned for even a small bit of oxygen.

His eye was fixed on the figure before him (Hallucination. Ignore it Roy. Go inside) trying to rationalize his being here, his just appearing like this. He wanted to say something but he still couldn't breathe.

The figure seemed worried, brow knitting in concern as he stepped forward, one arm outstretched to place a warm hand on his cheek.

"Ed," Roy whispered on a shaky breath.

Ed's ungloved hand warmed his skin, solid and real in what seemed like nothing more than a dream.

Only when Roy felt that flesh against his, so reassuring and comforting, did he dare breathe again.