My Hero

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Sadly. Otherwise... well, FMA wouldn't be JUST an action show. It would be an action show.

Rating: K+

Warning: Stupid Fluff

Summary: My hero is the man that powered me enough to come back to this side without hurting the other.

"Who's your guys' hero?"

Alphonse's question still lingered in Edward's mind long after they had boarded the train and set off for Central; back for Amestris; back home. He knew who the others' heroes were. They were obvious in just the way they spoke or the way they walked or whatever it was that defined the person you idolized enough to call them your "hero".

Noah's would be Alfons Heidrich only because he was a hard working man that somehow always kept those that are important to him closer to his heart and more important in his mind than his work in what he was going to get his name written in history for.

Alfons' (may he rest in peace) would have been Noah because despite being a gypsy and having to live the hard life since before she could remember (or would tell them), she always held her chin high and would never let the sneers of those that passed get to her, no matter how hard or mean they were.

Alphonse's, though, would have to be their mother. He wasn't sure why, but doesn't everyone idolize their parent or parents at some time or another in their life? Some people never grow out of that, right? What sense did it make to not include Alphonse in that category?

Hawkeye would idolize her husband, Jean, because despite being so self-conscious and vain all the time, he did it for himself and no one else. Granted, his feelings were (and probably still are) hurt easily, he never let them keep him down for too long and in that sense was stronger than most.

Jean, though, would idolize Hawkeye. On one hand, it would be because she's the only girl that Mustang respects too much to steal away from him while on the other, she was too good for him but still settled for the love and warmth that he gave her that no one else could.

Kain? Kain, Breda and Falman were all hands down Mustang hero-worshippers .For different reasons though, of course. He had heard stories of the Ishval Rebellion where Mustang saved Furey and since then they had done nothing but worked together as a way for Kain to pay him back. Breda because he wanted to—wished he could—go after his dreams like Mustang could do without a simple thought. Falman… well, Falman is Falman; if Mustang isn't his hero, then no one is.

Winry? Winry's hero had to be her mother and father and grandmother, too. Her parents for being there for her when they were and dying doing what they wanted to without being scared by the Military like so many before and after them would have been. And her grandmother for being there now and teaching her the workings of Automail and training her to be a surgeon and so-on and so-forth. Until then, he would have said that Alphonse was another one of her heroes, but he knew better; Alphonse was not her hero. Alphonse was her Love.

What about Trisha, his mother? He didn't even have to think about it to know his father would have been her hero, but for the reasons why, he didn't know—nor did he care to find out.

Mustang's hero was probably Maes. Maes had stuck with him through thick and thin (according to more stories he had heard and, thankfully, never experienced) and had even promised to push him to the top—and made good on it; something neither he nor Mustang knew how to do without being straight-forwardly asked "who do you want to be your Fuhrer?".

Maes, though, when he was alive, his hero was Gracia. There was no doubt that behind all that love and adoration, his hero worshiping had begun the relationship. However, he had no idea how that worked out and had yet to discover how it could work. Then again, he wasn't exactly looking.

Gracia? Gracia's was the man that widowed her and she has yet to get over enough to stop wearing the wedding ring. Honestly, Ed didn't want her to get over it enough so that she would, because a love that dear and that sweet deserved to be eternal and for it to end would be like chocolate to seize to exist.

Elysia's was her mother or Edward…. No, Elysia's was her mother, because Ed was no hero to anyone nor did he deserve to be. He just wasn't Hero-Quality. Her mother, though, was Gracia Hughes and there's no excuse as to why you wouldn't see her as a hero. She couldn't be met and not idolized as somewhat of a higher being.

So, then, who was his? His brother? No. His mother? No. His father? Definitely not? Alfons? No, if he had to ask, then they wouldn't—couldn't—be his hero.

So… what is a hero?

A hero is someone who saves someone from a burning building; who has the courage to play to half a million people; who makes shots in games to win; who steps on the moon; someone who makes balloon rides half way across the world and then the other half just for the heck of it.

A hero is someone who doesn't exist, Ed finally decided and turned around to go back inside the caboose of the train. He followed the aisle up the train end to the booth he was sharing with Alphonse, Noah and the two Havocs on their way back home. Silently, he took his seat beside the window and turned to look out of it without another word.

"Ok, brother," Al said as soon as he was looking away. "What's your answer?"

"Answer for what, Al?"

"Who's your hero? Here, I'll even do a recap: mine's you or maybe mom but definitely you, Hawkeye- sorry, Mrs. Havoc's, is Jean, and Jean's is Riza while Noah's is Alfons. Alright, your turn."

My hero is the man that powered me enough to come back to this side without hurting the other.

"I don't have one," he answered. "Hero's are people who don't exist, nine out of ten percent of the time. So I have decided to spare myself from being like another one of those ninety percent of people and have declared myself hero-less."

However, as soon as he was in Mustang's office for the first time in six years with the man's arms around him, he realized that there was no use in denying it.

"You."

"Excuse me?

My hero is the one man who made it possible for me to hold your flesh in my arms again, Al. My hero is the man I argue with so much that it's infuriating. My hero is the man that pisses me off so easily because he just feels like it. My hero is the man who can get under my skin with nothing but a breath. My hero is the man who I argue with just to vent the amount of rage I have at myself at.

My hero is…

My hero is Roy Mustang, Lieutenant General.

"My hero is you, Mustang. You're the one that saved my life and without you, I would be nothing. Thank you. My hero is you."

"Where is this coming from, Ed?"

"Don't know; don't care." He muttered and shut his eyes as he took in a deep, dark breath of the man before him. "But you're someone's hero, Roy. You're mine. Granted, that doesn't mean much in the terms of the world, you are my hero, and I won't stop saying it. Thank you, for saving my life."

"When did I ever save it?"

"When haven't you?" Was all he could say before he tilted his head so that his forehead was against the man's neck cords and he was sleeping soundly; like a bird in a tree; like a man in a bed; like a man who had finally found home in the arms of his lover-to-be.

Like a man in the arms of his Hero, who now, to this day, does not believe himself worthy of being called "hero", even if he is, was and forever will be recognized as one in Ed's heart for the good things and not the bad. The bad, Ed would learn to live with as Roy would he, but until then, Roy moved them to the couch and they slept silently in each other's embrace for hours.

Until Riza Havoc stormed in, declared Fuhrer Grumman to be there, and Mustang awoke to the nasty joke that it was.