Before October

Happy December readers! Apparently, it is still a little early to call in Christmas yet... oh well, I'm feeling festive. Merry Christmas! :D Wherever you are, let's hope for snow or sunshine.

Back to the story, this is the one where Roy finally arrives at the academy. But before then, there is some Roy and Maes banter, which makes my day XD I hope you all enjoy too.

As always, a huge thank you Ace724 for your wonderful beta work and correcting my awful spelling :D

Happy reading folks!

Chapter 9: Just a Chance

Roy shivered, closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet vapours of his black coffee. Damn did he need it right now.

East City was nothing but a speck in the horizon, and as he blandly rested his head against the train's window, he suddenly had a wave of homesickness wash over him, and it hadn't even been an hour since he had left home. East City had become his home – and he knew so little about the outside world. It wasn't as if Berthold Hawkeye was a keen traveler; Roy's master thought it wearisome enough having to trek down to the marketplace to buy all of his supplies at a discount price.

He wondered if Riza would be out taking pictures in the early spring day. She loved spring, he remembered. They had talked about it several months after Roy had moved in with the Hawkeyes. Hell, he was even going to miss Dapple. At least he wouldn't have to compete for Riza's absolute attention now. Roy laughed at the thought of Dapple planning to have Roy move out of the house like the villain that Roy knew the pony was deep inside – and if he had the capability of kicking the apprentice alchemist out of the house, Dapple would have done so a long time ago.

But Roy would miss the pony. Dapple was a part of home.

And the huge world awaited. Amestris was enormous, and he had only explored a speck of its enormity on random trips to Central with his parents when he was younger to see his aunt, Madam Christmas. Roy had called her that for as long as he could remember, and calling her something so formal felt like the norm to him.

Thinking of names, Roy frowned as his thoughts retraced to the numerous, and highly offensive, names that Maes Hughes had adopted for him on the induction night for the military what seemed like years ago. Said individual was sipping at his cup of tea opposite him across the table, and the young man's glasses were misting over. He would rub at them, take a sip and rub again. Maes obliviously continued at this routine for several minutes before Roy sighed. He wanted to interject, but watching Maes making a fool of himself was entertainment too precious to waste.

Roy wondered if Maes was engrossed in deep thought, just like he was. Roy was alerted to the sound of Maes setting his tea back on the table and he rubbed his neck as the joints cracked contentedly. He looked like he was as tired as an animal waking halfway through its hibernation. If only, Roy wished. Yet Maes turned his head quickly around him, and noticing that every other passenger was preoccupied and deep in conversation, he faced Roy again and Roy sensed the flower of anticipation budding in his brain.

"What's going to happen, Roy?" Maes asked, and the way that he phrased it wasn't directly as a question – it was as a statement. It was as if Maes knew that Roy had already had some prior knowledge about what would happen when they arrived at the academy. He shifted uncomfortably, remembering the personal letter he had received from the Major General Nassor and was equally amazed that Maes could read his expression that well enough to know that he had some experience about the military.

"We're assigned to dorms and classes for the new term…" Roy answered sarcastically, but his valiant attempts fell on deaf ears, or Maes hoping that he had deaf ears. Roy had an awful sense of humour. He tried to hide his embarrassment by burying his body deeper into the seat, hoping that he could disguise his presence; he could feel his face flushing a bright red.

Feeling as though he had to make it up to Maes, but also he oddly felt a strong sense of trust with this family man, he moved a hand silently to retrieve the letter that Nassor had written for him. He placed it on the table. Maes looked inquisitively at the letter, seeing the military seal pressed onto the paper and gave Roy a questioning gaze. After Roy had nodded his head in confirmation, Maes picked up the letter and his eye started to skim through its contents. "I would never have thought that you were associated with the military."

Roy was caught off guard from that question. Him…have connections with the military? But then if a cadet had received a personal letter of invitation from a high-ranking officer, that was what anyone would assume. Trying to change the subject, he threw the proposition back at Maes, "You don't have any connections then?"

Maes rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Both of my parents are bakers," Maes stated this fact as though he expected everyone in the world to know it. He stared into his cup at the soggy remnants of his cup of tea, swirling its cold and empty contents thoughtfully. "My uncle died in line of combat against Creta. That's the real reason I enrolled for the East Academy. My parents were adamant that if I wanted to become a member of the military, I would not take a step in the West Area until I had graduated from the East Academy. They were against it from the start, but they gradually accepted the idea, knowing what this means to me."

"Why did you-"

But Maes interjected Roy abruptly. "I enrolled for the same reason why everyone else here enrolled, Roy. I want to survive."

"At least you're calling me by my actual name now…" Roy muttered, sympathising with Maes. He had people who had wanted him to stay behind as well. They were more similar than Roy had originally thought. And yet he knew very little about the grinning idiot sitting opposite him. In return, he guessed, he would have to open up about his past too. But he had opened up to very few people; he could count the number with his fingers on one hand. The only person who knew the whole truth was Berthold Hawkeye. Even Riza couldn't know about his childhood…it was a burden he didn't want to have to place on anyone else.

The childhood which he longed to forget, but continued to crop up in his life nevertheless, like with the letter from the Major General. He tried to forget because he knew that there was no hope in Hell that he could ever forgive him for what they had forced him to endure as a child.

I am sure your parents would be satisfied with this arrangement too. They would have been, and that made Roy scowl even more.

"Nope, you're still useless. You could prove yourself however, if you could show me some of your alchemy!" Maes banished Roy's solemn mood like a breath of fresh air. He would tell…but in his own time, when he had accepted the fact that his mother and father were his parents, and not just strangers to him. They were people. Until he could accept this fact, they would remain the ghosts of his nightmares. Not for much longer though. He knew that he would have to meet with them again one day in the near future.

"What happened to the fact that alchemists guarded their secrets jealously?" Roy queried, collecting the letter, draining back his cup of coffee before it became as cold as ice, and made space on the table.

"Be Thou for the People. Be Thou for entertainment," Maes said, waving a hand in the air. He then burst into laughter at the ridiculousness at his own joke.

Roy snorted too, "You're as useless as I am when it comes to jokes." He suddenly had a thought as the train briefly rolled through a stretch of forest. "Would you like to hear a pun?"

"No," Maes' eyes glittered with amusement. "But I'm going to have to hear it."

"I bet you're already sycamore puns," Roy fell into silence until his face turned purple as he face contorted with laughter. His chest started to hurt.

"Why are you subjecting me to this? Why didn't I choose to make friends with normal, ordinarily boring people?" Maes hissed through clenched lips, trying to swallow the hysterics rising in his throat like bubbles.

Anyone who happened to look over at their table would have been fairly concerned seeing the two young men breaking apart at the seams from their awful, awful puns.

Soon the entire train carriage was abundant with them.

Roy struggled to breathe, inhaling and exhaling deeply despite the soreness in his chest. It had been too long since he had had a hysterical meltdown like that. He wiped the tears from his eyes, wondering how he had made a complete fool of himself again on his way to the place where his life would change forever. However, he remembered the alchemy demonstration he had somehow found himself owing to Maes. He reached for the chalk stored in his jacket pocket – which Riza had forced him to carry with him as a precaution – and set it on the table, alongside an empty piece of paper.

As the familiar image of an array focused in his mind's eye, Roy picked up the chalk and started to draw the base of the first, outer circle.

"I broke this a while ago. My old man would have wacked me with his rolling pin if he had found out…any chance you could fix it?" Maes asked, as a battered watch was pressed into Roy's palms. Maes' nose was still streaming from the laughter, and Roy grinned in amusement. He didn't have much experience with this kind of alchemy, but he would definitely try his best.

From the battered appearance of the watch, but also from the way that the metal shone in the sunlight illustrated the tender care that this old watch had had. It must have been an heirloom and a precious one at that. It was the silent signal of trust which Roy had been waiting for, he knew, deep inside of his heart.

Roy examined the interior design of the watch, noting mentally at how the mechanism functioned and the rough quantities of metal he had to work with. The watch was so small and lightweight that the density and compositional quality of his alchemy would have to be heavily considered too in the transmutation.

As he glanced out of the window, he noticed that they had left the woods. There was a patch of ground they were in which he recognized from his visits as a child…they were nearing the academy. They were already almost there.

Roy placed the watch down on the table, and started to draw his array. Ideally, he would have liked to sketch the array in order to alter the transmutation circle to make it more efficient. He wanted the design to be perfect…for his friend.

He finished the circle, and with Maes watching attentively, Roy touched his hands to the array, activating it as an ice-blue light shimmered into existence. Alchemy started to work its magic at manipulating the watch, moving the gears back from their broken position, amending what had been broken. Roy paid particular close attention to the arrangement of the metallic ions. They couldn't be too densely packed… He felt a bead of sweat drop down his face, and his expression strained in concentration.

He closed his eyes and felt the hum of alchemic energy fade as he disconnected from the circle. The watch on the table was ticking away happily, as good as new.

Eyes were watching him in awe, and Maes had started applauding him, giving him enthusiastic comments along the way. Roy could only look out of the window and stare as the academy's front entrance entered his peripheral vision, looming solemnly over his head, as the train rolled to a halt at its main gates.

They were here, with people gasping in admiration at the sight of their new home for the next three years for the first time.

But Roy had already been here once before. He closed his eyes and braced himself as the memory of the past returned to him…

A young black haired boy clutched at his father's hand. The touch was cold because his father had his hands gloved. The boy had never felt his father's touch before, or at least he couldn't remember how it had felt.

There was a bitter wind blowing in the air, and the young boy was shivering; he didn't want to be here. But he couldn't disappoint his father. He wouldn't complain about the chilling cold biting at his freezing legs like a wolf's vicious howl piercing through the sky.

This was the first time that his father had brought him along on official military business. He would be meeting the comrades of his father. He had listened to the names of the officers he would be meeting, but their names were like blurs in his mind, and hadn't ingrained into his memory. But he thought that one was called…Nassor? Father had called him a very brave man.

He wanted to be brave too, but the looming building in front of him made him feel tiny, insignificant, scared. The military flag waved above proudly in the sky, but it equally fluttered in the breeze like a trapped bird, unable to escape the chains which kept it grounded. He shivered again, wishing he had brought a thicker coat with him, and he squeezed his father's hand in familiar assurance.

The hand let go of his immediately. He heard his father cough to clear his throat.

"Roy. Try to be a Mustang your mother would be proud of."

"Yes…Sir."

"Brother. Come on, Brother!" That was Al calling to him. Ed grumbled and pulled the covers over his head. However, Al was as adamant as a stray cat wanting to be fed, and they had had many. Why couldn't Al see that he wanted to sleep? He had stayed up far too late finishing reading an alchemic textbook about the transmutation of water from a liquid to solid state. It was really complicated but also too fascinating to ignore.

And now he wanted to be left alone. Sleep was more important than anything else that the morning had to offer. He had had an amazing dream about becoming a State Alchemist, and he had abruptly been awoken from it by his irritating brother.

Why did Al have to be so rude?

"Later, Al. I want to sleep," Ed mumbled, half to Al, and half to his pillow. He turned his back away from the window to the sunlight already streaming through the closed curtains.

"Sorry, Brother," Al whispered and his voice faded into nothing. Good, now he was going to leave Ed to return to that dream. As he settled his breathing into a deep and rhythmical pattern, he allowed his mind to whisk him away to a large, empty hall. There were piles of raw materials in every corner of the room: organic ingredients, metals and stone, a whole selection of drawing materials to choose from…his heart was racing in excitement at the thought of it.

Becoming a State Alchemist would be wonderful, just like Roy.

He hadn't forgotten about Roy Mustang. On the contrary, he had thought more about becoming a State Alchemist since meeting the man in East City. Perhaps Ed would meet him again one day in the future, and they would both be State Alchemists going on dangerous missions to help save the world…

Ed yawned…Maybe he could do that tomorrow. For now he wanted to sleep…

"AH" he suddenly screamed, as a bright and ominous light started to flash down upon him. His world turned upside down as he fell to the floor from his bed in a thud and pile of blankets. He opened his eyes immediately, his mind disorientated and confused, but on the defense.

His eyebrows furrowed and he crossed his arms across his chest, as he saw a guilty Alphonse sitting on his bed. The curtains had been pulled open, and Edward had been kicked off the bed. "Alphonse…"

Al lifted his shoulders sheepishly down towards Ed, and motioned for Ed to hop back onto the bed, which Ed did. Al pointed out of the window, and Ed gasped.

The ground had been blanketed in snow for the past week. It felt like spring would never come. And overnight the snow had melted, so all that remained of the white blanket landscape in Resembool were puddles as large as lakes, and dew spilled on the grass. He gaped in awe and admiration.

Perhaps he could forgive Al for waking him up so early…

He could hear nothing, except for the quiet breathing of his brother beside him. And down the stairs, all that Edward could hear was the ever prominent coughing of his mother. For the past month, she had not stopped coughing.