Title: Never Easy
Rating: M overall
Pairing: Royxed, but mainly Elricest
Genre: Romance, Angst, Horror, Hurt/Comfort... that sounds like a terrible combination 0_0
Summary: Things have never been easy for the Elric Brothers. Why would love be any different?
Warnings: Mature content, language, and violence in later chapters.
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Fullmetal Alchemist. *sobs in corner*
Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so freaking long. I went to AnimeBoston last weekend and this week coming up is finals, so I was a busy, busy bee. Feel free to leave a comment to harass me. =)
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Even though it took both a nurse and Havoc to help me out of bed, and although my muscles still screamed at me as I slowly got them to work again, I didn't care. Nor did I care as Havoc pushed me in a wheelchair to the elevator, so we could go up a floor to the ICU. All of that was a blur; just small tasks, no longer humiliating or frustrating, and seemingly happening to someone else. I do remember when we finally got to his room; the door closed, defensive against the visitors and nurses in the hallway. I stopped Havoc when he finally pushed me just a few paces away from my goal. I didn't wait for him to help me stand up, and he didn't say a word to me as I softly padded my way to the foreboding door.
I knew that just this steel door, painted a soft, pleasing green color, was all that stood between me and my brother, yet I was terrified. My hand hesitated, hovering over the doorknob, creating a reflection of the metal in the equally metal knob. I glanced over at Havoc; arms leaning casually on the back of the wheelchair, and unlit cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He smiled at me lazily, nodding for me to go ahead. I took a deep breath, and with my eyes closed, I opened the door and took a step in, closing it quietly behind me.
I could hear the machines beeping, so similar to how mine had been. There was the soft rustle of the curtains around the open window, and I could smell the fresh air clean out the overwhelming scent of disinfectant that hung everywhere in the hospital. Ever so softly was the sound of breath, almost lost in the other ambient noises of the building and the bustle of the outside world. My heart jumped into my throat and I forced my eyes open. This room was slightly bigger that what mine had been downstairs, no curtain blocking off the bed, because there was only one in the room. The sunlight from the window drifted in, almost like a subtle spotlight right onto the sleeping form on the mattress, creating a soft halo on dirty-blonde hair.
I inched carefully over to the side of the bed, but if you asked, I don't ever remember telling my feet to move. The person on the bed was a boy, roughly judging by his size, not much younger than me, but their face looked so innocent, and I had a feeling that it wasn't just because they were sleeping. I bet those eyes, probably brown flecked with gold, would make anyone's heart melt, defenses fall, anger waver, and no doubt make them fall in love. I knew that feeling all too well.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, not taking my gaze off the boy for an instant. I was too afraid to even blink; even as I felt my eyes watered up and spilled down over my cheeks. I lifted my flesh hand and brushed the silky bangs out of his eyes, reveling in how smooth his skin was, and the warmth that I could feel radiate off his body. I gently grasped his hand that rested on top of the blankets. In his sleep, he must have felt my hand, because his fingers tightened slightly, his eyes shifting under his eyelids, and a whisper of a moan passed through his lips.
I sat like that for an hour, although I hardly even noticed; time seemed to have stopped forever. Centuries could have flown by, empires rise and fall, and mankind could have completely disappeared off the face of the earth. I wouldn't have noticed.
I almost thought that I imagined it when his eyes began to flutter open, gradually, adjusting to the late afternoon light. He looked right at me, his eyes, exactly as I remembered .I had been so afraid I had forgotten.
"Brother…" he whispered, a smile gracing his face: the most beautiful thing in the world.
"Alphonse…"
Alphonse.
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"Alphonse."
"Alphonse is fine Ed, don't worry."
I opened my eyes, and a sense of déjà vu hit me hard, but this time, it wasn't just a dream. I was in the hospital again for real.
"Goddamnit, every two seconds it seems like I'm in here. What stupid reason is it this ti—"
Where is Alphonse?
I snapped my attention over to the person who was sitting next to my bed in one of those horribly uncomfortable folding chairs. Roy Mustang stared at me, a weird expression on his face: a mix of frustration, confusion, and disappointment.
"Roy," I said, trying to sit up, but I quickly discovered that that was a task easier said than done as the pain shot through my stomach. He quickly leaned over and pushed me back down on the bed.
"Careful Ed, you don't want to rip those stitches."
Stitches?
Then it all came back to me: coming home, Kimblee, the fight, the knife, and…
"Where's Al?" I almost shouted, but I couldn't help it. Déjà vu hit me again.
"I just told you he's fine," he said, taking my left hand and rubbing it gently, trying to calm me down. "He's in the waiting room with Lieutenant Hawkeye. Last time I checked, he was sleeping on some of the chairs," he commented offhandedly. He stopped massaging my hand and instead moved to push my bangs out of my face. "You know Ed, I was very worried…"
"Where's Kimblee?" I asked, ignoring Roy's touches and hints for affection.
Roy sighed, dropping his hands from me and leaning back in his chair. "He's in prison again, this time, very high security. Kimblee had committed horrible crimes in the past, but breaking out of prison and attempting to murder another State Alchemist was definitely too much in the eyes of the military. He's going to court in a few days, and I'll be shocked if he doesn't get the death penalty."
I sat there, looking at my flesh arm. There was an IV buried in my skin, but I could see a previous mark right next to the needle. They must have given me blood too. Kimblee deserved to die, but not for what he did to me.
I pulled the needle out of my arm and started to stand up, but Roy grabbed me again.
"What do you think you're doing?" he yelled at me, trying to get me back up onto the bed while being careful not to touch my side.
"I'm not staying in this stupid hospital," I said as he finally pushed me back down, forcing me to sit there. "I'm going to get Al and we're going home. He's the one who needs to get rest right now, and not from sleeping on these fucking folding chairs. He needs…"
"He doesn't need you!" Roy snapped at me.
"….What? What are you talking ab—"
"Alphonse is fine!" he said for the third time. He was yelling now, and it was weird seeing him lose control like this. "He's all you ever think about, Ed. Alphonse this, Alphonse that. Well, I'm sick of it. What about me, Edward? Do you ever stop to think about how I might feel?"
I couldn't say anything. This was all too strange. Roy never acted like this; like a jealous schoolgirl. What the fuck was going on? All I could do was sit there as he yelled at me.
"Well I'm sick of trying to deal with the fact that you're in love with your brother and not me!"
That hit me like a ton of bricks.
"Roy, I—"
"Don't lie to me Ed, I'm not an idiot. I see the way you look at him, the way your touches linger longer than they should, even the way you say him name! Even just now, in your sleep, you were calling out his name and not mine!" He dropped his head and finally let go of my arms, but I still didn't move. He paused for a long time, his breathing finally slowed and he lifted his head, looking right into my eyes. Something had changed: he looked like the Roy I knew again.
"Ed, I know that you never used me. You needed someone to show you love and affection, and that day I kissed you in my office, I accepted full responsibility of the job. I saw the pain in your eyes and I wanted to dissolve it all, but I know now that it was never possible; it was never my place." He smiled that smirk that I both loved and hated, and walked over to the door. He turned around, his hand on the doorknob, and looked at me again.
"Goodbye Edward."
And with that, he turned around and left, closing the door behind him. I didn't move for a long time, sitting on the edge of that bed, hands gripping the sheets, and head bowed. I felt my eyes water up a bit, that burning feeling in my cheeks and throat, but I wasn't going to cry.
"He called me Edward," I whispered to myself. "That's what gave him away." I smiled as I finally stood up, and I couldn't wipe it off even as I put my shoes on and grabbed my jacket, leaving the hospital room behind me. Good riddance.
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"Colonel, sir, do you think that was a little over the top? I mean, I could hear you yelling from out here," Hawkeye said casually, standing against the wall across from the door of Ed's room.
I smiled gently at her and started walking down the hall, not bothering to look to see if she was following me because I knew she was; she always did.
"I had to over-exaggerate. If I acted outlandish, then he'd eventually figure it out."
"Figure what out sir?" she asked, although I was pretty sure she already knew the answer.
"So he'd figure out that I didn't mean those angry words; that I was actually giving him a free pass. Edward wouldn't have let me leave if he knew I was doing it for him alone." I stopped, having reached one of the waiting rooms that branched off of the hall. There was no one in the small grouping of chairs and tables except for a boy, who had laid down across three chairs and managed to fall asleep. "That way, we can still be…" but I was too distracted by the boy. I watched his chest slowly rise and fall as he lay there, oblivious to the fact that he was being looked at. I noticed that I felt jealous as I stared at him, but I could never bring myself to hate him, he was almost like a son to me, in a weird sense, but none the less. I cared deeply for him.
"Friends, sir. I think the word you were looking for is friends."
"Yes," I said as I turned back to Hawkeye. She was watching the boy too.
"Should we wake him?" she asked.
"No. Ed will be along in just a minute. Let's let him sleep for just a little bit longer."
"Fair enough." She turned back to me, waiting for me to lead the way, and I did, walking us both down the hall to the exit. I didn't want to be there when Ed found the sleeping boy, when he would gently shake him, waking him up, and when they left together, the younger taking Ed's hand as they walked out. Hawkeye and I would leave Havoc to drive them back to the dorms; we could just take a cab.
The sunlight hurt my eyes when we got outside; standing there on the walkway in front of the hospital, but it was nothing to how I felt inside. I don't regret leaving Ed, but I didn't think that it was going to be so difficult. But then again, things are never easy.