It hadn't been easy for Edward to fall asleep—the boy had tossed and turned relentlessly, finding no peace even when Roy and Al left the room to get something to eat. Ed had refused dinner as well, claiming that he was too tired for food, but it seemed his mind could not stop churning long enough for him to get his much sought after rest.

It was dark in the hospital when the blonde began to breathe easy, long after normal visitation hours had ended (Roy had had to pull a few strings to get the staff to allow him and Alphonse to stay late). Roy released a quiet breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and turned to Al to share in their relief that Ed was finally asleep—but the younger Elric was out cold.

Roy rose slowly, shaking his head. Poor Alphonse—how could he be expected to handle this stress? No wonder he was exhausted.

Roy checked the clock; a little after midnight. Edward was in the capable hands of the nurses, and Al was there. It was time for him to leave, get some rest and get to work the next morning. He would visit Ed again in the afternoon.

He had only taken two steps, wincing at the squeaking of his boots on the immaculate floor, when a tired voice sounded behind him.

"Don't go."

Roy had to turn, physically see Edward watching him, before he could believe that such a pitiful, hushed sound could come from the boy. He took one step back towards the bed.

"Ed, I have to. I'll be back tomorrow."

For a moment Roy was afraid he had hurt the blonde, in his fragile state, with these words, but Edward merely sighed. "I know," he whispered, picking at the edges of his bandages—it was really quite disturbing how preoccupied he was with the gauze, and the wounds hidden beneath. "But…" he continued, "I just feel…I dunno, safer when you're here. Better, I guess."

Roy raised his eyebrows, though it was probably too dark for Ed to pick up on the motion. "You have Al, even if he is asleep."

"That's true," Ed sighed. "It's just that the more people I have around me, the better I feel. I never got, never get the urge to cut until I'm alone. Being around Al helps, and when you're here as well it's better."

Roy thought his heart was going to give out. How could he refuse to stay when the boy put it that way? But…why would Edward want him here, him specifically? The answer: he probably wouldn't.

"Ed, if you could have anyone with you here, right now, who would you choose? I'm sure having people in general around you helps, but there must be some person, or people who I could call specifically that would be best. What about that Pinako woman, or Winry?"

The blonde bit his lip, and Roy had a brief flash of panic that he would try to bite straight through the tender flesh. He didn't answer. "Come on," Roy prompted, "there must be someone."

Abruptly, Edward brought his hands to his head, clutching at his hair and shaking his head. "No, just—no."

The distress, the way the boy stumbled over his words—Roy didn't believe him. "Are you sure?" He paused, thinking for a moment. "What about the guy?"

Roy didn't even have the chance to elaborate before Edward got the point: "No. No, I…" he trailed off.

"You can't tell me you wouldn't like to see the man you…love, Ed." Roy still couldn't believe he was using that term, "love," when this mystery person was obviously causing Edward so much pain. Still, if the boy insisted he was in love, Roy would accept that.

"I know," the blonde whispered, sitting up but refusing to look at Roy. "I do want to see him. But aside from the fact that he would probably try to kill me, it would just remind me how horrible he is. How much I shouldn't love him…"

Roy debated for a moment. While he could see that Ed really was tearing himself up about loving this mystery guy—and that might translate to him getting worse should he see the man—the boy might also benefit from seeing someone he was so enamored with. "But wouldn't it also make you happy? Maybe he's changed."

Edward laughed, a sick, hollow sound. "I don't think he can."

Roy was quiet. "Do you want to see him?" he murmured.

The persistence of this one question was wearing Ed down. He shuffled awkwardly, picked at his bandages. "Yes," he muttered finally, giving in.

Silence took over the room. Edward continued to fidget, glancing up at Roy every now and again. He scratched briefly at his taped wrists, and Roy still waited.

"What?" the blonde asked eventually, the quiet apparently unsettling to him.

Roy again raised his eyebrows. Surely Ed knew what he was going to have to say next. "If you want me to find him, you're going to have to tell me who it is."

The boy in front of him gaped, spluttered. "I—I can't!"

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Edward's condition teetering on the edge of such a high cliff, Roy would have laughed. "How am I supposed to find someone when I don't know who I'm looking for?"

Ed bristled slightly in indignance. "I know you can't!" he half-shouted, causing Al to stir slightly. Once his brother stilled, the blonde went on in a hushed voice. "But…" his eyes became downcast. "I can't possibly tell you."

Roy laid his hand on Edward's shoulder, a small gesture of comfort. "Of course you can," he assured, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about."

The boy quivered slightly under his hand. Edward brushed his hair (still loose) out of his face and looked up at Roy. His eyes shone not with the usual spirit, but with fear and hesitation. "I'm not embarrassed, exactly. I just…if I tell you…" the blonde trembled, seeming to have to force the words from his throat. "If I tell you, you'll hate me."

"I won't—"

"And as bad as it is to hate myself," Ed went on, acting oblivious to Roy's interrupted assertion, "I can't imagine how much worse it would hurt to have someone else hate me too." Admitting this evidently caused Edward a great deal of discomfort; the boy curled himself into a ball, hugging his knees tightly, crossed feet hiding his gaping hospital gown.

Roy frowned. How bad did this person have to be for Ed to believe he would be hated for loving him? "Edward, whoever it is, I won't hate you. I promise."

"You'll be mad," the blonde countered.

"I can be angry and not like it and still not hate you."

"It's—" Edward paused, almost as though for dramatic effect, though Roy knew it was because of the difficulty in getting the name out. "Envy."

Though the name was whispered, Roy felt as though it reverberated around the room, growing louder and louder. Envy. Envy! An immediate rage filled him.

And then there was disbelief, and confusion. How could Edward have fallen in love with that homicidal, sadistic, bastard of a pseudo-human!?

Roy looked down at Ed, fully prepared to tell him that was a sick joke in the best of times, and certainly not appropriate for his current situation—but the boy's eyes disarmed him.

Full of longing mixed with self-disgust, the golden irises shone as though illuminated from within—or from the tears gathering slowly in the corners of the eyes. Roy saw hope there, and fear…and truth.

He took a breath, controlled his voice, and spoke one word. "Goodnight."

And Roy walked out of the hospital room, leaving the once-great alchemist in his pitiable state, not believing what he was setting out to do.