We were having a hard time deciding whether this would be its own fic or the last part of Taisa's Christmas, but We decided on Christmas. Oh, We're writing an omake as a birthday present, too: D Since it's his birthday in lyke, five days, and all. -nod-

Pairing: RoyEd

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

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STUPID

"Roy Mustang, you're being stupid."

I hate those words. Am I not allowed to wait for him, to be sure that he'll come back? Our last meeting...

"We're not so different."

Words were exchanged, goals defined. I'm pretty sure he was ready for his fate, as was I. I remember that night, as I cried out in pain and that man simply looked on in satisfaction, dragging his blade through my shoulder like a hot knife through butter. I remember the morning after that, waking up in a hospital ward with an eyepatch, courtesy of Frank Archer, and Hawkeye sitting on a stool, her head down on my bed and her eyes shut, her hair pooling around her face like a river of melted gold. I had woken her up, and we sat and talked.

And then... Then I was sent to the northern border, making myself a promise that I wouldn't use alchemy. Not after what I'd done. Sins had been committed, and I was repenting. Or so I told myself. It kept me sane, at least.

"Roy Mustang, you're being stupid."

My emotions are getting a little out of hand now; I can't stop thinking that phrase to myself. The mask goes back up. I wonder... is waiting for him -- even if he doesn't come back -- is waiting such a bad thing? At least I've had faith, right? At least I've held out. I'd say "for a hero", but it doesn't seem to fit him.

Then again, looking at him now... Standing there in those strange clothes, telling his brother to thank his mechanic for the arm she so faithfully prepared. He looks so

(beautiful deadly heroic handsome mournful hopeless hopeful worried doomed prepared)

tragic. He's made a decision, I can tell. He had that look as a child when he had written something in stone, and at eighteen he still has the same look. But the look on his face makes me want to cry, because in this instant I realize that even if he's come back for a short amount of time, he's never coming back again. I'm never going to see him again.

My arms wrap protectively around his brother, who is screaming for him, crying useless tears, and Edward turns away, silhouette melting away in the darkness. He's gone back.

"Roy Mustang, you're being stupid."

Stupid of me, to wait for someone who was coming back only to leave again for good. I guess... they're right.