Roy groaned, stretching out his sore muscles on his back, favoring his right arm, which now throbbed, the adrenaline gone from his system, bring about pain once again. He scowled irritably out his right bedroom window, his brow furrowing as the icy 'plunk' of hail bounced against his window, hitting his roof eagerly, keeping him from some desperately needed sleep.

Roy crossed his good arm across his chest and pouted, turning his gaze back to the sling he had been forced to wear, much to his objection, and jut out his bottom lip in frustration, taking on a sweet, stubborn puppy dog look that would have absolutely ruin his stoic façade if he were in the presence of his superiors. He made a sound at the back of his throat, rubbing his chest where it ached, and breathed in harshly, hurting himself in the process.

He very much wanted to kill someone right then.

He slouched into the plush, white pillows which lay under his back, and stared at the small radio on the other side of the room, blaring profoundly, irking to the Generals tired ears.

But it was so far away!

Roy sighed, running his hand across his knee where he had banged it brutally against the pavement, giving him a bruised bone and a fowl attitude, as well as the inability to walk without jolts of pain and discomfort pushing up his leg. As if he needed anymore bad luck.

And so that was the reason Maes Hughes was at his house.

"You won't believe how cute she has been lately! It's simply adorable, she keeps claiming she's too old for something, but does in anyway! And the pout on her is simply so lovable! Even you would just melt into a puddle of lovely dovey goodness!"

Roy's eyes narrowed and he turned towards his best friend, jaw clenched, and a vein popping obscenely from the side of his head. He cared for his friend's well being greatly, always choosing to stick by Hughes side despite the consequences. But right then was not one of those times.

"Hughes, I am always so thrilled to hear about your daughter, but do you have to speak of her now, when I am so close to throwing myself at you and forcing you out the window with a catapult?"

Maes just simply looked offended and continued straightening up his room, picking up the soaked outfit he had worn at the Fullmetal Alchemist disastrous birthday party. Roy turned his head away in silent shame, furrowing his brow until Maes noticed his friend's sour expression. He sighed and discarded the outfit into a white basket before sitting down beside Mustang. He leaned back on the palm of his hands and looked up at the ceiling, watching as the fan turned slowly in a calming manner.

"What's bothering you Roy?"

Roy sighed, Hughes always knew something was bothering him, whether he told Maes or not. It was a simple, instinctive nagging feeling that grew in his mind until he knew something was bothering Roy. The small twitch of his left eyebrow, the nervous scratching he always did when he felt uneasy or irritated, and the way he ran his hands through his hair every so often gave away Roy's apprehensive state. Not very many people had the ability to read Mustang so fluently, and the fact that he was with one at the time did nothing to help his self-loathing.

So he pushed his emotions behind a mask that was unbreakable and looked Maes in the eye, replying with false boredom, "I'm fine, just tired." And that was true. Maes sat there for a few minutes and Roy watched as his eyes flickered from one eye to the other, trying to see through his emotionless facial features. He sighed and pushed himself off the bed, giving up on understanding Mustangs hard, cold eyes. Roy was glad of this, letting a gentle triumphant smile spread on his lips. But it also hurt, knowing that his best friend would be so fooled by his mask and give up so easily. He nudged that feeling away softy, shaking himself so to not get caught up in his complicated emotions.

Hughes turned off the radio and an alarming silence spread through the room, twisting in the air, creating a buzzing sound in his ears as he pulled the covers up to his neck with one hand, scooting awkwardly down into a laying position.

"Good night, Roy,"

"'Night, Maes."

As Hughes snapped off the lights Roy knew that it would be a sleepless night, with only his thoughts so accompany him. He growled softly, glaring at the black blobs which had once been his furniture and tried to turn onto his side, only so stifle a yelp as his arm throbbed violently. He huffed and pulled himself up with one arm, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. He gritted his teeth and pulled himself up, ignoring the fierce shivers that ran up and down his leg. He grabbed the crutches on his night stand, letting them take his weight as he moved swiftly on one leg towards the window.

He suddenly felt bad for his selfish pitying. Fullmetal probably felt this pain nearly every moment of his life. If not physically, then mentally, in the piercing memories that most likely swallowed Edward up until there was nothing but a pinpoint of light at the end, a hopeless wish that he could forget everything. Roy knew what it felt like; in his dreams there was nothing but memories, tangled dangerously into a malevolent concoction.

Roy grimaced, scratching the back of his head as he looked up into the sky. It was still dark, and the stars faded slightly as a miniscule sliver of light rose up out of the horizon, alerting any early risers. He pressed his face against the window, relishing in the coolness of the glass. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let one of the crutches fall to the floor. It made a loud clatter, slicing through the peaceful silence.

It was hard to imagine that Ed had ever been the rough teenager he knew from his twenties. He had grown in silence, an assassin amongst the boisterous, arrogant military men and women. He had pulled from his stubbornness a deep intelligence that surpassed any alchemist. He knew more than just arrays and math, he was street smart, and could comprehend the immense importance of kindness. He understood alchemy, lived within it. It was different to learn it and know it, but to be able to take an array and break it down with witty words and chalk was ingenious.

He knew something the rest of them could barely fathom. Yes, Roy was an alchemist, a well known one at that, but Ed saw alchemy almost as if it were a part of him, or another being; a smart and worthy ally. Ed knew alchemy like Roy knew fire. Roy could calculate the heat of it by looking at it, could understand the gases that caused such a mysterious reaction by feeling the moisture and intensity of the air. At first it had been hard to grasp that fire, and Roy knew for a fact, that it was alive, a ravenous creature in search of those who could handle such a hunger and use it to their advantage.

Mustang was one of them, and it had earned him the title of Flame Alchemist and Hero of Ishbal. But they had called him more than just that. The Ice General, Burner of Ishbal, Hellion, Worshiper of Hell, Hellfire Creator, Malefactor Mustang, Child Disintegrator, and Rabies, were some of many hurtful names the military and civilian persons alike, called him. Of course, almost all of them didn't know the raging guilt he felt just below the surface, bottled up and wrapped tight so that none escapes his desperate and depressed grasp. He would never be able to hold out until he was ninety, no one in the military usually did. At least, the people who sacrificed didn't, it all depended on how much you cared, and how badly people wanted you dead.

In all of his thirty two years he had never seen any soldiers not haunted by their violent past. They were all broken and utterly defeated on the inside, but they wore proud smiles, and chose to move on fast, only focused with what was ahead of them. Roy had once been a carefree man, full of joy and content with the blissful ignorance he attained from a normal life. Then he began learning fire alchemy. The simple fact the he was fascinated with fire just as it was drove him to learn how to control and conquer it. And after awhile he joined the military, determined to change the traditions the Fuhrer stubbornly clung to. Of course he had been drafted to Ishbal, forced with what seemed like a gun to his head, to blow up countless lives; age and sex didn't matter when it came down to murder. It was kill or be killed, so he did what was asked.

It hurt to know that he would probably never make amends for the horrible crimes that he committed. He wanted to change the world, rule it with a kindness and intelligence that the current Fuhrer didn't seem to understand. He would break it down slowly, and then mold it into something useable, merciful, and when it came to it, unforgiving. He would someday take control over this war ridden realm and smooth out all of its wounds and flaws.

Of course, it wasn't that easy, he couldn't just go up to the Fuhrer, and demand that he give up the throne, to go down willingly and become one of many civilians, struggling as the military held onto them with a bruising grip. No he would beat Roy until he was falling from his high horse, pride broken, defeated. He would pull Mustang to the ground along with him if he were to ever even succeed in kicking His Excellency down.

Roy turned away from the window, irritated as a bright red light flashed in his eyes. He could still hear the ever present howl of the wind, pushing rain and sleet against his window in sheets. He rubbed his forehead, trying to rid himself of stress with his hands.

He wasn't alone in his quest to purify his war torn country, he had his team; Hawkeye, Havoc, Breda, Fuery, and Falman, they all wanted to help him. Even the Elric brothers participated in this at some degree, trying to make up for how much they owed him one accomplished mission at a time. Ed, however, had nearly forced Al to quit the military when he joined so long ago. Alphonse had pleaded and begged to stay by his side ever since he had gotten his body back. He had been fighting for an opinion in the matter the entire time, sticking stubbornly to his brother. Edward had been agitated, grappling for some sort of excuse to guilt Al into going back to their childhood home, Risembool. It was only one year after AlÆs arrival that Ed had acquired what he had wanted to attain. 'What about Winry? Don't you miss her? She doesn't need the extra stress, worrying about you!' Al had been dumbfounded, stunned at his brothers quick and clever response to Alphonse's reluctance and he had been at a lost of words.

It was quiet obvious that Alphonse had been crushing after her for some time, and, to him, it mattered not that he was a year younger, for he replaced it with his adult maturity and kindness. Being in armor for most of his childhood had not rendered him of the ability to think pleasantly. And so he had resigned his watch and title honorably, retiring while he still lived in youth, returning back home to live with his infatuation and love. Alphonse was happy, and that made Edward happy, at least, that's what most people concluded.

That was mostly true, but anyone who had known him long enough would pledge against it. Edward was partially happy when Al was, because that was what he had struggled to gain, but Ed was haunted by his past when Alphonse had the gift of not. Sometimes, Edward would stop mid sentence and his eyes would glaze over as something dark twisted behind his eyes. He would smile after a moment, one that could even fool Hawkeye, and lie between his teeth that he was suddenly swept up in a thought. Who ever said that Ed wore his heart on his sleeve? For a while it had even deceive Roy, but he caught on quickly, relying on the darkness of his eyes and the downward twitch of his lip to tell whether Ed was lying to their faces.

Edward was still entangled in his past, wrapped up in guilt and memories until it was his present and his future. He would struggle to push forward, trying to escape the cold ruthless grasp of his history, only to be pulled back. Never once had he told anyone his troubles.

There was the subtle attraction that was always there though, dangerously low. It would make his chest tighten and his eyes widened as he realized just how beautiful Edward was. He had changed from a teenager, all hard lines and stubbornness, and smoothed out into something more feminine. He became slender, elegant, and lost some of the broadness of his shoulders. His legs became longer, much to his happiness, and his face leaner, lips fuller. His eyelashes were longer then before, and when he blinked they fanned his cheekbone supplely.

It was strange to watch as something entirely masculine overtook the role of something more soft and dainty, just the opposite of what was expected. Roy had reasoned with himself, it was logical to think that Fullmetal had lost weight, due to the fact that he was nearly always depressed right under the surface, but Mustang felt a nagging suspicion that Ed was hiding something. It was infuriating to know that something was wrong but to not know what. That was hypocritical though.

Roy sighed and bent over to pick up his crutch. He straightened up and placed it under his arm, letting it support his weight and he slowly made his way towards the doorway, stopping to check the time before closing the door behind him with little difficulty. He hesitated by the stairway, grimacing as he remembered the tremors which had run up and down his body when he had tried to walk on his own. Eventually, he took a deep breath and began his trek down the stairs.

Never had he felt so helpless as the sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip, and he licked his lips nervously as his crutches shook with him. As gently as he could he lowered himself down each step, clenching his teeth as rolls of nausea swept over him in waves, making him double over. He took deep breaths, clutching his chest as he felt the insatiable need to hurl. He snarled frailly, angered by his own weakness, and finally, with much coaxing and persuasion he reached the bottom step.

He sighed blissfully, swinging himself on one leg towards the kitchen. The clock read 5:31 so it had taken about twenty minutes to get down the stairs. He frowned and turned away from it, taking out his coffee pot and putting in the water, getting his cup from the cupboard. When it was ready he poured himself a small glass and took a tentative sip, wincing when it hit his empty stomach. The next couple of sips were forced.

He swallowed it slowly, ignoring the bitter taste it left in his mouth and leaned against the counter, exhaling slowly as the caffeinated drink settled comfortably in his stomach. He chuckled as his small gray kitten jumped up onto the countertop, rubbing her fuzzy head against RoyÆs bare arm as if demanding his attention.

"Hello Nina," Mustang said to his cat fondly.

The Elric brothers had found her on the street, shivering at the cold, skin stretched over her ribs in a grotesque way. She was huddled under a newspaper, ears flattened against the top of her head with her tail curled around her to preserve her body heat. She had looked at them with such sadness that even Edward had been forced to take her.

Sadly, they just couldn't keep her, so, not wanting to leave her lying in a puddle scared and alone, as they had been so long ago, they pleated with Roy to take her in until they settled down in a place that was not a hotel or train station bench.

Mustang had been so enchanted by the petite cat that he had immediately said yes, startling them and the rest of his crew by his enthusiasm. Edward had huffed in approval, informing Roy that her name was Nina. By the sad smile on his face Roy had pulled the kitten into his arms and had taken her in, without a second thought. Of course, he didn't realize that this kitten was about as stubborn as Ed himself and certainly ate more that both Roy and Edward's meals combined. She cost him a fortune and more with all of her needs and wants, but as much as he reasoned with himself, he just couldn't give her up, not even when Alphonse himself had came looking for her before he left for Risembool.

Roy had tried so hard to act as if he didn't care and that the cat meant nothing to him, but as Alphonse picked her up and walked back towards the door all hell broke loose. Nina had clawed her way up his chest, and flung herself from his shoulder into Roy's arms, and no matter how much they pulled, she just wouldn't let go. At first Mustang had tried to apologize, but Al just grinned merrily and said that if Nina loved him so much then it would just be cruel to take her with him back to Risembool.

Mustang had rejoiced, silently in his head, thanking Alphonse for letting him have her, and when the younger Elric had closed the door behind him Roy had flung Nina into his arms and spun her around. That was the first time he ever had a pet. Nina had stayed small, and her body stayed between adulthood and, well, kittenhood. She was rather huffy about him commenting on her size, which reminded Roy so much of Ed.

Mustang pulled the kitten into the crook of his arm, petting down her ruffled gray fur. She purred contentedly, licking her paw as he contemplated on getting another cup of coffee or not. He quickly decided against it, not wanting to take the chance of hurling it all back up when his stomach was tired of compromising. Nina meowed contentedly, looking up at him with big blue eyes. It took a lot to make Roy melt, but Nina always did.

"Now, what to do..." He asked the room, dropping Nina onto the floor, ignoring her hiss of irritation. He pulled his crutches to him, swinging into the living room to where his flat screen TV was. He bent over, groaning as his back cracked and grabbed the remote turning it on. The news came on, and a woman who looked in her forties droned on.

"An alchemic explosion took place behind me today, in the middle of the night. Five people were reported to be missing and two are treating injuries," She gestured to the devastation behind her and walked up to a young woman. She was bloody and grimy. Her clothes were tattered and her eyes were filled with grief and fear.

"Millie Wilson, will you please tell us a bit of what happened?"

Millie frowned and inhaled slowly, before replying with horror clear in her timbre, "It was terrifying, everything suddenly came down around us and people were screaming, I-I I made it out just in time, but my hus-husband was pulled from my grasp and- and now-" She looked close to tears, her lower lip was quivering and she had a fierceness in her eye that told everyone she was not afraid, but apprehensive.

The news reporter turned away from the sobbing women. She had tears in her brown eyes, but she wiped them away professionally smiling apologetically at the camera.

"Now all we can do is wait, and hope for the best, back to you Davison."

Roy shook his head sadly. It made him wonder if alchemy was evil or if it was the people who were evil. The image was transferred to a pale, mean looking man with a thick head of hair, gel glinting slimily in the florescent lighting. Davison smiled warmly at the camera, and Roy had a sneaking suspicion that he was more of a self righteous man more than compassionate one. He was standing in front of a hospital room, speaking into a black microphone.

"Hello! Today we are going to be talking to the Fullmetal Alchemist, who was brutally attacked the day of his birthday, he's not expecting us, so lets investigate." Roy clenched his jaw and stifled a smirk as Davison was stopped by Hawkeye, who looked anything but happy.

"Excuse me Sir but I do not think you have any authorization to enter this room." Riza said stoically, moving to stand in front of the door as Davison tried to push past her. Davison sighed as if he dealt with women like her everyday.

"Ma'am-" He started, looking extremely patient, but Hawkeye quickly cut him off, "You will address me as Sir, Mr. Feltman," She gave him a hard look and continued, "The Fullmetal Alchemist is not in the shape to have visitors, let alone a little boy with an ego three times his size." Her lips twitched upward and Roy guffawed as Davison blushed in humiliation. His eyes narrowed in determination, and he replied confidently, "I'm sure that's not the case, if it were, then why would he have a women protecting him-ö he broke off as the hospital room door burst outward, and in the doorway stood Edward Elric, shaking with fury, eyebrows narrowed maliciously. He was wearing a loose black long sleeve shirt with his leather pants, his hair was in a ponytail ruffled and messy and behind him was the Doctor talking to him frantically. Alphonse was reaching out to pull him back.

Edward turned away from the Davison, and the camera trailed behind him, zooming into his back as he walked farther away.

"Mr. Elric! We have a few questions for you, would you mind answering them!"

Edward stopped suddenly and the camera man skillfully dodged him, walking in front of Ed to get a view of his face.

"What?"

Davison hesitated, his confidence quickly draining as Edward's voice hardened menacingly, quickly he continued, "What exactly happened on your birthday?"

"Strippers," came Edward's retort, keeping a well earned smirk of success from his face. It was almost too convincing, the way he looked into the camera with not an ounce of emotion playing on his face, only fierce amusement lighting his eyes, and soon Roy found himself doubling over with laughter, near a hysterical breakdown.

Recovering hastily, Davison pushed the gaudy black microphone into his face and asked with an unworthy grin, "Why would you have anyone protecting you Fullmetal, let alone a woman-" He instantly stopped when met with a sinister glower

"You god damn bastard, who do you think you are, putting yourself above women as if you have the right. Have you ever been in the military? No, you live your life at a safe distance, acting selfishly, pretending that you actually care when you don't," Edward's voice was dangerously calm and low, "You act sobby when your around the camera, wishing to appear humble in front of the world," By now Davison was motioning the camera man to turn it off, "Wake up Mr. Feltman, a women could beat you senseless and you would still deny the fact that they are better than you-"

The imaged was then cut off and a nervous woman, sweat beading on her upper lip, smiled timidly at him.

"We'll be back after these announcements," she informed.

Roy turned away from the TV, grinning deviously at Edward witty response to that pricks words. He could have lived that way all his life, but anyone who threatens his team, offends them, pays the price. He probably would have handled it less than mature by beating the man until he was tied up in his balls, but then Hawkeye probably would have shot him, and he couldn't have that.

Then again, it should have been him in the hospital, nursing a bruised body and mind. If he should have stayed seated, watching as the assaulter ran away with his identity, and then everyone would have been safe.

But that was not the case. Fullmetal was not out of harms way, he was right there, challenging harm to a duel, looking it right in the eyes with a fearless determination. Edward was hiding something, something big that would change everything. He was keeping locked away deep inside him, guarding it like a dragon would treasure. Roy had no doubt the Alphonse knew of Ed's secrets. Edward entrusted more than half of his soul to Al, and visa versa. If something was going on, the best way to find out about it was through Al, he was a kind spirit and so, naturally, he wouldn't be able to keep a secret for long. Unfortunately, Al had Ed's stubbornness, and that was always a disadvantage. One thing Roy hated was being kept out of the loop.

Roy limped to the television, pressing the power button. The screen went black within seconds and the man gibbering was instantly cut short. Roy sighed with relief and turned away, swinging himself towards the kitchen with the intent of getting breakfast. Watching Ed outwit someone always made him feel better.

He went straight to the fridge, pulling out his free ranged brown eggs and a pound of bacon. He took out three eggs and five strips of bacon, placing the rest back in his fridge.

He then cracked each egg carefully against the edge of the pan, licking his lips as the smell of cooking eggs hit him with a mouthwatering intensity, right in the face. He smashed them around with his spatula, smiling as they sizzled in their pan. Once they were done he flipped them onto a white plate, getting ready to make his bacon. The preparations done, he dropped each bacon strip in to the pan, flinching away as a series of pops and crackles emitted from the pan. He flipped them over, limping over to his fridge to pour himself a glass of orange juice.

A soft inconspicuous knock informed him of guest, and he shouted to the door, "Just a minute!"

He limped forward, swinging himself of his two crutches. He fumbled with the locks, unbolting each one at a time. When he finally got every lock open, he swung open the door, fumbling a bit as he lost balance.

On his door step was Edward Elric. He was hunched over, with a gray jacket covering his head. He looked around nervously before meeting his eyes, a pleading look within them. Behind him was Alphonse. He was wearing gray slacks and a white button up shirt tucked neatly into his pants. Thrown over his head was a sophisticated black trench coat which looked a bit to big to be his own.

"Um, Sir? Can we stay here? We're being flogged by news reporters and interviewers and they won't leave us alone, Hawkeye left to ward them off, but they still find their way past!" Alphonse explained in a quiet voice, he looked up at the rumbling clouds, glancing around restlessly, before continuing, "Please?"

Roy sighed and pulled the door back so the two Elric brothers could duck under his arm. When they were safely inside, he slammed the door shut, locking it back up behind them.

They looked disheveled, and Alphonse bowed respectively, thanking him promptly.

"It's fine Al, really, just stay here 'til things settle down," He replied, trying to calm the timid teenager. Alphonse sighed with relief, and his shoulders slumped as the tension suddenly released.

"Thank you General."

Roy grunted in reply and walked away, turning towards the stairs to his room for some well needed rest.

"Um Sir?" Alphonse called out to him shyly, with an undertone of panic.

"Yes Al?"

"Your bacons on fire,"

Roy swore and scrambled into the kitchen, trying to ignore the suppressed snickers coming from Fullmetals direction.

It was going to be a long day.

Edward finally couldn't quell his laughter any longer and he bent over clutching his stomach as tremors of laugher ran through his shoulders. He straightened up as Roy pulled the bacon off of the stove, looking for something to stop the fire without completely ruining his breakfast. It was a failed cause. Alphonse grabbed a large bowl and filled it with water, swinging the bowl so that all of the water fell on him and his breakfast. The fire went out with a large sizzle and Roy stood stunned as water dripped down his face. Fullmetal howled with laughter.

"And they promoted you to General?" Edward said wiping amused tears from his eyes. He rubbed his chest wincing, chuckling under his breath as he walked out of the kitchen.

A very long day.

This is, by far, the longest chapter I have done so far. Anyway, I am really hoping that this chapter with get at least two review, and so far I have four :) It really does inspire me when people review because it shows that they like it, so, REVIEW PLEASE! ^_^ thank you for reading.