A/N: Long time no see! Sorry for the late update, but there's so little time for writing these days... It sucks, really :(

I'm kinda confused by this chapter. But here it is, as I want to write the next (for which I have some pretty good ideas) and I hope you'll enjoy it even a little. It will get better, I promise. Tell me what you think!

I don't own FmA, only the plot and the OCs. And there are a few. As per warnings - violence. Lots. And some fluffy fluff.

Don't shoot me after you read, please...

Chapter 6 – They Call It Family

Roy froze. He swallowed hard, his throat so dry it hurt. His muscles clenched and he instantly felt a wave of nausea invading his insides, like they wanted to get out and run as far away from him as they could. That must be the way guilt felt, he pondered, though he did not have any reasons to feel so.

He gulped. How did Edward find out about River? Did he say something? No. He never let anything slip, no matter what. Unless he had found all by himself. 'Shit, did he read the note I left to Grumman?' he wondered. But how? That was not a reliable presumption. He was very good at hiding things, never had he allowed any information to leak. He was a natural at that. But Ed knew the man's nickname, so it wasn't that much of a wild thought.

He looked at the blond in front of him, his face showing pure determination. He felt sick at the simple notion that he might have been used by the much younger man for such selfish means. Used just to satisfy his greed for knowledge and his unending curiosity. He wanted to believe it was not that way, but how could he be so sure when facts spoke clearer than any words?

That was not his Edward, the child he had helped for years and admired for his insane drive in archiving his goals. He was not such a meagre person, he was far better than that. He was strong, not some sly scum of the military. There must have been some other motives, something deeper that didn't go against righteous morals.

Edward stared in his eyes, noticing how quiet Mustang had become. "I see it rings some bells," he said smugly. "So, who's this guy?"

"You don't need to know," Roy replied dreamily, hoping his disinterest might determine Edward to drop the subject. His inky eyes roamed, trying to find a point of interest. His gaze shifted back at his plate, the one place that wouldn't seem conspicuous to focus at. Now, would you look at it, the yolk was so round and orange, it was amazing.

"Of course I need to know! You said it with your own mouth that I shouldn't hear about it. So it concerns me, right?"

"No, it does not. It is a confidential matter," Roy replied unnerved.

"Then why did you make Armstrong promise you he won't tell me? And what does the Major General have to do with it? It has something to deal with Drachma? Oh, by the way, I've heard you talking about your family, too, and your file says absolutely nothing about your family, so it must be some skeletons or something up in your closet. Am I getting close?"

'Shit,' Roy mentally cursed. He must have overheard the discussion with Armstrong. How bad was his luck, really? Oh, and on the matter of his biography, how come an Alchemist had access to information destined for the Court Martial? Well, the General had, but he was 'allowed' to, as he liked to call it. Blackmailing the officers was counted as allowance and, seriously, who would not do anything for a short-tempered man that could set everything on fire by snapping his fingers? No one was that mad, for sure.

"You've searched my file, haven't you?" So that is how he'd found the note. So bloody great, that is what you get when you challenge a genius, it all turns against you. Only that he didn't challenge him, it was all an unfortunate accident. That week had to be his worst in the whole year. The lady from the horoscope rubric of Central Times could very well shove up her ass that article about his sign 'having luck on its side'. He should sew her - he might get some good money from her for a long vacation to alleviate his frying nerves.

"Yeah... I- I didn't know you were an orphan. Never figured you don't have any family besides your aunt, though I guess it makes sense, I mean you never talk about anyone else."

"Are you interested in my family, now?"

Ed nodded. "Bastard, why shouldn't I? You know virtually everything about my family and I have no idea about yours! I mean, I didn't know you were born in the East and that you are half-Xingese! Though that was kind of obvious, you know, there aren't that many with eyes like yours around, but still, no one ever told me!"

"You have done some researching, I see." Roy shook his head like the whole world started to unfold before his eyes. He smiled, the corners of the mouth curving slightly. He knew it, Ed had been sincere in his actions. He didn't fake his emotions. What an honest brat, it had been a while since the hardened soldier had seen that many good intentions in one person. But since Ed had the chance to question him, he gladly took it, so perhaps he wasn't all that nice.

That was his boy, alright. As blunt as a hammer and opportunistic like a salesman.

Ed's face heated up. The damn smug bastard, what was he thinking? How could he dare smirk like that? That simple remark drove him over the edge. "So what? It's not like I am interested in you... Call it possible material for blackmail, would you? Yeah, call it that."

Roy raised his eyebrows. "Aham," he made. "Blackmail doesn't work like that, but whatever you say, Fullmetal."

"It's not like that! I mean- argh, you are such a git I don't know what I am doing here," he argued as he savagely cut some bacon. Roy could make edible food, it had never occurred to him. Maybe living alone had determined him to learn how to cook. Some were more fortunate than the others, it seemed, because Ed was beyond hopeless when it came to anything related to the kitchen besides washing the dishes, at most. He frowned. He did not care about what the man knew how to do.

"Aham," the Flame alchemist repeated amused. He enjoyed Edward's fussing a little too much to be considered healthy. He was getting tangled in his own words, he was obviously not used to such direct confrontations. Maybe his week was getting a bit brighter, he might not sue the horoscope lady.

"Don't you 'aham' at me, whatever the fuck that means! That's not what I've said! But it's really awkward to talk to someone you know shit about, not to mention to sle- I mean- argh! You got my point," he blurted, blushing furiously. 'Fuck, he makes me talk without thinking!' he internally screamed. Hundreds of expressions danced on his face as he spoke. The small facial muscles said more than any words could - Edward had became the victim of his own skin.

Roy sighed. "Yes, I agree with you. But it is better not to know, or at least not now. Try to understand that, Edward."

"Why do you absolutely feel the need to hide things from me? I'm not a child, I'm your colleague, damn it!"

"I'm aware you are not a child, Fullmetal," Roy commented, waving noncommittally. He was a bit too aware of that.

"Then stop treating me like I'd be one! All the damn office acts like I'm bloody ten!"

Roy rolled his eyes, still keeping them lowered to his plate. What should he say to appease him? He could feel those golden eyes burning holes through his forehead and it almost stung. "No one treats you like you were ten, stop exaggerating. I want nothing bad to happen to you and if I'll tell you about it, I cannot guarantee for your safety. If I tell you, you will most likely mess with my plans, as you always do. And by that, I really mean always."

"So that's it? That's why I'm left out," Edward retorted slowly. He snorted. "You're so fucking dense, you know that, Mustang? You don't trust me at all, do you?" The older alchemist made an apologising face, but Ed waved it off. "Oh stop it, you do not, you bastard! Admit it! Just fucking admit it and be done with it!"

Roy lifted his dark eyes a little too fast. "I do! I do trust you, what are you saying?"

"No, you are lying. If you trusted me, you would have told me. It only proves my point. So, is this the way between us? Good to know, thank you for the notice," Edward said and put down his cutlery. "You know something? You are full of shit, Mustang. You say military is full of scoundrels, but you are not that far from any of them."

Roy inhaled deeply. He couldn't prove his innocence. Why was Ed so eager to know about his past? He had to reconsider his position once again. Maybe the blond didn't mean what he did at all. Was it just a mere curiosity and not the previously shown attraction that drove him into the more than illegal intercourse with his superior? They had violated about five military rules only by touching, the kisses got them another five or six sanctions and the next things they did could grant them a long time in prison if found. The military really was tough for those who lo- He scowled. It was not the moment to reflect on the blond's feelings. They were double-edged. They wounded him. He felt insulted.

"Oh, please, if I didn't trust you, I wouldn't have helped you in the past, I wouldn't have let you act on your own accord when you could have done so much damage to my image. But I prefer to know everyone is safe and not endangered by me. So, was the food good?" he said hastily, getting tired of that conversation. It was like all his communication skills flew off the window which, as a matter of fact, he should wash soon. Some oil sprayed on it, the light was poorly filtered through the stains.

He rose from his seat, recomposing himself. He put his dishes in the sink, thinking hard about the stained glass to clear his mind.

"Yeah, it was, but that's not it," Edward started, looking at his back.

There goes Roy's great scheme of washing the windows. He would never have a properly clean house because he was never allowed to make plans for it.

As if Ed didn't notice the tense air around the man in front of him, he continued, "Roy, you know what? I shall let you be. I do not give a shit about your life, okay? You can drown in your own mess, for all I care. That doesn't mean I will not bother you anymore with it, because you have something to do with your life and there's no need to waste yourself in some dangerous mission. I didn't get back this bloody automail," he said, waving his metal arm, "so you could get yourself killed before you become Fuhrer. You can do that afterwards and I think I will be the one to cut your neck if you continue with this bullshit, but first, you see..."

Roy was nearing the point where he wanted to throw Ed out of his house. For the sake of all the Gods he knew, if he ever heard that kind of lecture again, he should not be held responsible for his actions.

Why was Edward so bipolar? Why couldn't he just have one opinion and stick to it? Didn't he say it was the same for him? Now it mattered? He contradicted himself in two consecutive phrases! Semantics, boy!

"I- I can help, I have been through a lot, you know I did... I've strived in the end, but your stupid head doesn't seem to remember anything! I think the Truth took something more besides your eyesight, it must have been a chunk of your brain."

Mustang looked at his subordinate who had a look of worry plastered on his face. 'Shit, so much for discretion. Okay, Roy, time to smile prettily,' he thought, resorting to one of his better strategies.

They needed contact, he decided. He leaned forward and stroked the rosy cheeks of his unlikely lover, if he could commit the imprudence of calling him so. He didn't want to hurt the one for whom he suffered so long without knowing he cared for. Why did he have to realise his feelings ran that way? It was easier to just yell at him and not give a damn.

But not as pleasant. It was one of the very few times in his life when Roy felt like the Earth rotated around him, like he was in the centre of the universe. It was like he has found his lost happiness in the partly dismembered boy.

Still, it was too early to say. Knowing his luck, Roy could only pray not to say something that would make Edward go insane or do something wildly stupid.

No, he knew he was going to screw things up somehow. He was good with women or men or whatever he took to his bed or had to charm for certain services, but it was another side of the coin to deal with feelings. He did not need new cicatrices on his already scarred body. The war had been nice enough to earn him some stitches, so no, mind you.

He could do well without any fresh wounds.

XXXXX

Twenty-five years before, inside an Amestrian military warehouse

The chained woman woke up, mouth gagged, arms pinned high on the wall by manacles and feet dragged down by heavy shackles. There was so much blood on the floor... Her blood? Not all of it, it was a little too much to be only hers. So it was not only hers, she decided, struggling to keep her head steady.

She lifted her heavy eyes to find all her thugs hanged from the ceiling, dead. Well, most of them, as others were still sobbing in pain.

Wonderfully sordid. She quite liked the image.

She heard tapping from the corridor. It was rhythmic and somehow soothing to her whizzing ears, she relished in the sound. Until the blood came rushing to her head and it started to hurt her.

A handsome blond man, dressed in military pants and a black shirt, hit the metallic wall behind her with a stick and smiled at her. The noises he made were becoming unbearable and it made her feel groggier than she already was. "Hello, hello, beauty! Have you slept well? The mattress was too hard? Ha-ha, like you had one. I am such a jester."

He loosened the gag to give her more space to breath. Immediately after her mouth was freed, she spit in the soldier's face. He backed off slightly so the saliva wouldn't touch his skin, too fine for an army dog. "What did you do to my men?" she said, looking with the corner of her eye to some distant men, chained to their chairs and with heads lolling to the side. She had to wait a little longer.

"Surprised?" he asked. "That is what happens to those like you," he said without heat, looking in the opposite direction, where some soldiers were checking some prisoners.

"You are exactly like me," she replied with a strong accent.

"No. Unlike you, I have not been caught. Save your breath, you will need it." He put the gag back on far looser than it had been and left the woman to his men.

She moved her eyes to her immobilised feet. What went wrong? Her plan was flawless. Kill the targets and snatch the compromising documents that guaranteed a new war that would have created a weaponry crisis in Amestris, which was already in full war at the Northern and Southern border. She had to pass the information to her employer, a mogul from her native country, Xing. But her boss was now pinned on the wall, next to her, more dead than alive...

They were not supposed to be discovered by the internal affairs squad. Someone must have sold her out. Or Amestris had very good soldiers.

Whatever it was, she vowed on her dead parents' grave to protect the well-kept secrets she knew and never sell off her country. The country which abandoned her, the country that destroyed her childhood and took away all the humanity she ever had. Anyway, from the moment she chose that retched path, she was declared dead to the world. Killed by the fire which took away her parents and half of her village so many years ago. How long ago, actually?

Long ago.

She started laughing, the noise dampened by the restraints over her mouth. No one could hear her laugh, but she was so damn amused. Good one, darling. Who was she kidding? Those were thoughts back from when she was weak. The time for despair was long gone. She had never gave a single damn about Xing, nor its people, not after everything that had happened. She had others to care about. She did not need to look after the nation she swore loyalty to, all for naught. She definitely had much better things to do.

She felt weary, her eyelids unbearably heavy. She looked at the gruesome image in front of her, carving it inside her memory, then closed her eyes and became the prey of a deep slumber.

A gentle tremble woke her up from blissful unconsciousness. She opened her almond-shaped eyes and stared at the person above her. The man who had such a kind mien implanted in his handsome features. It was the same soldier that commanded those who beat her up just a few hours before.

He pinched her nose fondly and kneeled to unlock the shackles around her ankles. He opened the restraints around her mouth and hands, beautiful enough for a queen. He picked her up and exited the dirty warehouse. She caught a glimpse of her employer standing dead in a pool of blood, shot in the head. What a great loss, she grimaced and clicked her tongue. 'Useless bastard. He didn't even pay well.'

She couldn't resist the lulling movement of her captor. It was warm in those familiar arms. She closed her obsidian eyes and drifted into a relaxing sleep.

The next thing she saw was the same smiling face from before. They were in a military train, alone in a cosy berth. The pain from her wounds was almost gone. The soldier rocked her gently in his lap and hummed a lullaby his mother used to sing to him. He enjoyed it, as it reminded him of a time when all his family got along. Not really noticing she was no longer asleep, he continued to play with her long black hair until his hand was bitten playfully. He looked down at her and grinned.

"You are finally awake, my flower."

"Maybe I wouldn't have fallen asleep if you had stopped those mindless barbarians. There is no need to kill me for a diversion, Cenric! That is not how it works, you idiot!" She pushed his hands away and stood up. He grabbed her waist and tugged at it. "Ouch, it hurts, you brute! Heard about restraining?"

"Sorry, Amaya, my love, but I had to. You know it. We have to make it look real. I will be gentler next time, I promise. Would that do, my flower?" he kissed her on the forehead. "Are you still cross with me, my queen?"

"Fine, silly. And I am not a child, to be kissed on the forehead! What are you, a man or a dummy?"

"Whatever my angel wants," he smirked and pressed his lips to hers.

...

The trip on the train was fairly long and quite pleasant, as the two spent it in each other's arms, talking about nothing in particular. It was nice to have a break after a complicated mission. It felt like a blessing.

The bruises on Amaya's frail body were now barely visible. The beating sounded horribly painful, but in reality the wounds did not sting that badly, as the palm was cupped and very little force was applied to the hits. She had to thank her very nice colleagues, most of them renegades who proved to be very pleasant and loyal if you knew how to treat them. They were kind to use non-lethal techniques that prevented bruising her face. She hated to have black spots on her milky skin and definitely didn't want her neighbours to ask her why she had all those wounds.

They did not look good on your typical house wife next door, indeed.

Amaya and Cenric had been job partners for about ten years and their speciality was diversion. She usually infiltrated different criminal organisations and Cenric chased after her, actions coarse and obvious so that everyone would fuss in terror. No one knew their faces - panic was easier to create from rumours than reality. They mainly alimented an inexistent conflict and started from there.

In their rush to cover everything up, their targets always forgot something behind or did something unthinkable, and that was how they caught criminals. Simple and efficient. Her 'torture' was more for giving the soldiers something to talk about - this time they had to work with the military. And it was for Cenric's condemnable pleasure as well, because the man was a sucker for seeing her chained. It was the only moment when he had any control over her, the wild thing she was.

She was, after all, his blooming flower, the soothing rain in warm night.

Their first encounter was blurry to both of them as they had lost too much blood during their fervent fight, but she could not forget the moment when he managed to smack her head to the floor and asked her whether she was satisfied with her third rated missions. He told her she was better than that and she could get real assignments and earn not only more money, but also recognition in their world. But only if she followed him.

Having nothing to lose, as all her family was dead and her job was of a low life, she followed him. She abandoned her mother land, Xing, and changed sides for Amestris, Cenric's country. She didn't have anything to leave behind as she didn't have any patriotic feelings. She became one of the best spies out there, all in record time. She was closely followed by her saviour, the one she never truly understood. She did not know why he chose to drag her out of her misery, but she was grateful.

That was not what really mattered. Truth to be told, all that mattered to her was that she had won the most important thing in her life, something she had never imagined she would have under the vile touch of stinky old men and the disgraceful job of smuggling from nobles' thesaurus.

She won pure and unadorned love.

Despite her previous occupation as a prostitute and petty informer, she was a prideful person, a royal flower by any means. It took him two long years to convince the stringent woman to marry him, but the blond Amestrian considered the time he spent bending over his neck to only get her categorical refuse as the highest proof of love. He did as he heard from a friend and waited for her. He told him that if a Xingese woman refused your advances, but let you do things for her, it meant she was madly in love with you. It seemed rather true to him, because there she was, in his arms.

His black flower.

They eventually reached their destination. They made themselves a nice home in a friendly village, where people did not ask them why they were often absent and why dubious people visited their house from time to time. The military protected the villagers, most of them farmers, so no one bothered to argue or question them.

Cenric pressed the alarm button on which was written "Mustang" in big red capital letters. Next to the script was a small horse, drawn by their child. Amaya looked back at her husband with a sweet look and he returned the glance fondly. Right from the door, a small boy with black hair jumped into the short woman's arms and greeted his parents with lots of kisses.

"Aunty! Hurry, Mommy and Daddy are here! Mommy and Daddy, they are here! They are here!" He giggled under the heavy blanket of loving pecks he received from the couple. He hugged them tighter, laughing cheery.

"Easy, Roy, don't squeeze them too hard! You will choke them!" a laughing woman spoke behind the child and pushed back some rebel strands of chestnut hair from her face.

"Don't worry, Sis," the man said. "We both missed him so much, right?"

"Right! Who wouldn't miss such a jewel of a boy?" his wife answered. Screw her injuries - her precious child was the best ointment for them.

"Mommy, don't say that! You are more beautiful than I am! I am ugly!"

"Really?" Cenric asked his child, who seemed to say the craziest things. "How come?"

"Didn't you say I am a lot like you, Daddy?" Roy retorted laughing and ran back in the house. His father chased after him and caught him by the middle. "You little devil, on whose side are you?"

"Mine!" the child shouted, a large grin adorning his features.

...

A few weeks passed eventless. The Mustang couple didn't get too many jobs and they were easy. It was not that bad, they had more time for what really mattered to them. Their little family.

Speaking of family, there was Cenric's younger sister, Chris, fidgeting on a chair in the kitchen. She was troubled by something and her mimics showed it without any restraints. Funny, as she was great with hiding emotions. Pointlessly, Amaya made some idle conversation, but Chris did not pay any attention. She replied monosyllabically, completely absent.

"I managed to put Roy to bed, I want a prize for that! That little beast has too much energy," Cenric commented from the door. Amaya looked at him and smiled slightly.

Chris lit up a floral cigarette and her tense face relaxed, if only for a second. She inhaled sharply and turned her dark blue eyes to the couple. "He is alive and entered Amestris through Briggs. I have had his location confirmed and my men told me he was last seen not too far away from here," she stated mechanically.

"He, how- how the hell? I fucking twisted his neck with my own two hands!" Cenric boomed, his naturally translucent skin turning cadaveric. A blue vein pulsed on his forehead and he trembled in rage.

"Apparently, you didn't twist enough," his younger sister made and then, there was only silence.

Like many other illustrious families, the Mustangs have been in the secret services of Amestris' internal affairs department since its very formation. They were the country's shadow, the perfusion that prevented it from dying. They uncovered terrorist organisations and crushed them so Amestris could fight its other battles.

Few knew about the true occupation of the Mustangs. They were well seen by everyone as they wrapped their name in a comfortable reputation of "respectable people". They were helping the others, working for their good and organising lots of charitable acts that hid their many crimes.

In their dark world, killing for the country's welfare was not a misdeed. However, to those who heard those malicious facts about their activities, they were atrocious murders. But those were too few and could be easily silenced if needed.

Being a Mustang, Cenric followed his ancestors in their rocky road to the grave, along with his younger brother and sister. Chris Mustang was the second child of the family, one year younger than Cenric and one year older than the youngest of them, Telford. They were raised to serve the military in the most obscure missions and they were very close to each other, like nothing could tear them apart. By far, they were the best of their infamous kin.

They got together just fine for a while. All until the black eyed and haired Xingese, Amaya, appeared in the scenery, brought by the kind-hearted Cenric for training.

It was a tradition in their family to find people with potential and take them under its protective wing. Telford, a great match in all the compartments to his very attractive and outstandingly smart older brother, grew some sort of obsession for their protégée. Contrary to his shy nature, totally opposite to his sibling's forwardness, he found the courage to tell her his feelings towards her. Naturally, he felt betrayed when she replied to his declaration with shocking news he would never forget for as long as he lived.

She was going to marry his brother, to whom she had never shown any interest and, not only that, she was also pregnant with a child Telford decided he would hate long before it was even born. The next hit was her little boy's appearance, who looked too much like her. Same eyes, same hair and same smooth skin. From his father, he got his pale complexion, his mouth that always curved in that knowing smirk and his nose, forever high with pride.

The younger brother had always been confused from the distance with Cenric, as they were so similar in appearance, and he could not help thinking that, if the child had been his, he would have looked the same. That only made him despise the boy more.

However, the young family was happy. They had everything they needed and only the savage missions the parents had to accomplish from time to time could break them apart. Only for a little while. Then, Chris would babysit their child, as she tried her best to finish her own assignments faster than scheduled to accommodate her nephew.

Telford left the country soon after Roy was born to be welcomed by Amestris' fierce enemy, Drachma. He forgot everything he had promised to his state and sold everything he knew to the other country, proving himself valuable to them. He received a fitting name, River, as his very own name spoke of water and his adaptability skills were remarkable.

The last words spoken to his family, especially addressed to his brother, were cruel and unnecessary. He vowed to pay back with blood for the treason of taking away the only woman he had ever loved and, most importantly, his pride being shattered by his dearest sibling. It was a stupid thing to get mad over. It was no one's fault that his love was not shared.

Though his reaction was not without foundation. Cenric had always been thought to be better than him by everyone, even his parents. He was never as good as Cenric. Never had Cenric's grades in school. Never had Cenric's high class friends. Never had been that excellent. He was a nuisance to them, someone who had failed his dream because all he ever wanted had been destroyed by the others.

Damn, he was a veritable Mustang, a wild stallion, so everyone should have bowed to him, not treat him like garbage! His brother almost snapping his neck in a nerve-cracking fight didn't add much to their already bad relationship, only some more wrath and hatred.

Cenric rushed out of the room and up the stairs. His wife ran after him and, with great effort, she stopped him. "What the hell are you doing?" she asked in Xingese when she saw him open the crate hidden in their shared bedroom's floor in which he stored most of their weapons.

"We have to get Roy out of here and hide him somewhere. It is safer that way," he said calmly and looked in his wife's inky eyes.

"Maybe he came here with some other business. Maybe Drachma wants to start another war and they need leverage." She tried to find a good reason for the sudden and definitely not subtle arrival.

"No. You know it, that's not the reason. He would never let anyone know about his location, unless he wants to. Amaya, he promised me! We have to-"

"I can help," Chris said in Amestrian. She knew Xingese very well, but that was not the moment to talk in the language they all usually used when they were drunk and laughing hard. It was a serious matter.

"Sis, there is no need to! We can handle it," he argued.

"No, you cannot. The kid is the best target now. He has fewer motives to hit me than you two." She was quite right, they had to give her that. "Come on, I can do at least that. He is my little nephew, after all."

"Could you do that, Chris?" Amaya asked with glassy eyes. It was the first time she had ever trembled and she was not even sure whether she had a reason or not. After all, they could not say if Telford really had any rash actions in mind.

The younger Mustang nodded and took out some ammunition out of the hidden locker. She might need it, as the gun she wore as frequently as any accessory ran out of it.

They went back downstairs and made a plan to get rid of the source of their distress, this time for good. Even if he came with peaceful thoughts, he was a threat not only to the family, but also to the state they served. Their old man told them something on his dying bed, or floor, murdered for supremacy by his best friend, a fellow spy. He told them that they, his children, should never hesitate in anything they did. No matter what. They could as well kill each other, if needed. That inhuman they were, because no one should harm their own family.

A small voice creaked from the door. "Daddy, why are you saying you will kill Uncle?" The adults turned to face the child and his mother immediately hugged him. "Mommy, you said you only kill bad guys, not family."

She ruffled his raven hair and spoke lowly, "Roy, my dearest boy, Uncle did some terrible things. He is a bad guy. But we will not be harmed, I promise you, my love, we will come back in no time."

Cenric agreed. "Yes, Roy, trust Mommy. You are the only one that matters and you mustn't get hurt, under no circumstances, okay? We can take care of each other, but only if you are safe. You will go with Auntie somewhere, yes? We will come get you from there before you know it."

"Promise, Daddy?"

"Yes, Roy-boy. Promise."

Roy stared at his parents and rubbed his sleepy eyes. He was only five years old, but his mind could gasp more information than many older children. He had seen blood before - when he was only three years old, he assisted to his mother cutting a corrupted politician's neck right in front of him and he was not afraid of it. He knew those whom his parents punished were vile and deserved their fate. It had to be done, she said.

But she also said family had to be united.

The big plan was to wait. None of the Mustangs knew what to do better. Sudden movements could do more harm than good. Cenric rented a place for his sister and son, and he and his wife visited them whenever they found time. They made sure no one was aware of their actions.

However, nothing happened in over three months. Absolutely nothing. Roy came from time to time and stayed home, closely watched by his protective Aunt. He couldn't blame his mother and father for not spending enough time with him. He was used to seeing them irregularly. He was their most precious treasure and they did not want to lose him, he understood that.

Treasures had to be hidden well, away from the watchful eye.

...

It was an average Sunday afternoon. Orange light crept through the heavy curtains. It was warm outside, as summer neared its end. The Mustangs were in the living room and played cards. Roy came with Chris to visit his parents because everything had been quiet. He was overjoyed to see them again, with all those precaution measures he did not get to spend too much time with them.

Chris excused herself and went to the kitchen to refill her coffee cup. On her way, she stopped as a sudden noise came from the lawn and heavy dust invaded the clear air outside. The front door flew open and confident steps tapped on the hardwood floor.

It all happened too fast. Cenric hugged his wife and child like there would be no tomorrow. He kissed them on their black hair and told them how much he loved them. He literally threw Amaya out of the room after Chris managed to snatch Roy and exited through the back door.

A bullet pierced through Cenric's shoulder. He took cover behind the couch. He exchanged some shots with the intruder. Good thing he had a gun with him all the time.

"Stupid brother, I know you are here! I will shower myself in your filthy blood and there is nothing you can do!" The man laughed madly, voice cracking.

"You have lost your mind, you savage! How can you do such thing to family? Don't you have any pride?" Cenric shot back to gain some time for his to escape. Damn, he wasn't prepared for that!

"You are no family, Cenric. You took away everything and I want it back. I have no pride till you are dead. I will break your neck, like you almost broke mine," said Telford and pulled the trigger with a great grin plastered on his face. It faltered a bit when he did not see any blood, but it was still there. He caught a glimpse of movement and rushed in its opposite direction. He knew that trick.

Just as he expected, his older brother jumped on him and stabbed a knife in his back. Unfortunately, it didn't hit anything vital and the man didn't lose his balance. He threw them both to the floor in a deathly grip. They struggled and thrashed their clothes, none letting go. They both tightened their clenches on each other's necks and kicked as hard as their position allowed. Noticing a small gap between him and his brother, Telford let go off the tendons he was crushing and rushed his hand to the other's eyes, stabbing his forefinger in one of the orbs. The blue optic immediately turned into a bursting cherry and a scream soon followed.

Telford smiled at his achievement, enjoying the warmth that rushed over his fingers. He pulled the eye out and threw it wetly on the floor. The grip around his neck grew instable, only one hand surrounding it. Coming to his senses, Cenric let go of the bleeding hollow socket on his face and pressed both his hands on his brother's carotid. The younger man caught his arms, poked his fingers in the elder's wounded shoulder and pushed deep into the abused flesh.

Cenric felt the little vision he still had left get blurry, like the room was filled with thick smoke. He felt a horrid new pain in his forearm. Teeth bit his tender flesh and tore it like an animal. He grunted in pain and coughed more blood.

Not the kind to let go of an opportunity, Telford retuned his fists to his brother's bruised neck and clenched harder, knuckles getting white and tips red. Tighter and tighter. The bones under his devilish touch were breaking and more crimson liquid stained his dirty shirt. The older soldier struggled beneath him and hit the other everywhere he could, but not hard enough to cause any real damage.

Cenric felt life drain slowly out of him, a beaming light invading the darkness that covered his smothered sight. He was not supposed to lose so easy, so fast...

The kicking suddenly stopped.

"That's all you can, idiot brother? You have gotten old, Cen," Telford whispered as he put Cenric down, choking him to death.

Without thinking too much, Telford left his brother to rot on the floor and chased after his sister and sister-in-law. He moved like he could feel their scent. Maybe he could, because he was no longer the sweet sand-blond child with dark blue eyes. He had turned into a rabid animal with injected pools.

Indeed, he managed to distinguish his sister not too far away from the house. He pointed his gun to shoot, but someone tackled him down. He shot without looking and felt blood on his face. Not his, that was for sure.

Amaya punched him hard in the stomach and he fell backwards. He rolled fast and caught her legs, making her fall flat on the grass. He broke her ankle with a painful twist, but he also got his jaw dislocated by her other foot. He put it in place hastily and implanted his heavy boot in her back. Something cracked under him. She kicked back with her broken leg and hit him hard in the shins, her veins tearing form the sudden movement. With a grunt, he let her go and she rolled with her last forces. She threw punches aimlessly. Telford backed off, not sure if he could take another blow. His legs might as well have been cut from his body, it would have hurt the same.

The woman did not waste the chance and reached for the fallen gun. She shot him in the belly, but he also aimed for her chest with his other gun. Her small frame gave out, crimson liquid spraying from her upper body.

"Amaya, my dear, you're so pathetic," he coughed blood and he heavily kneeled next to her to caress her stained cheeks, "but I loved you so much and I loved him too. You will join that dog of husband in dead, pretty girl. I will get tha- ARGH!" he screamed in pain and collapsed on the reddened plants from the trashed lawn, followed soon by a panting Cenric. Wet lurid liquid splattered from the wound he made in his aggressor's lower body, and Telford finally stood still.

Amaya gagged with her own blood and spit it with great effort. The man to whom she had sworn eternal love dragged himself next to her and laid his hands over hers. He kissed her one last time, feeling blood oozing from their mouths before they both welcomed eternity together. They found the most pathetic death they could possibly get. They had failed their cause in an unpardonable manner.

Chris ran as fast as she could. She heard an explosion behind her, but she did not turn her head to look at it. She just ran forward, keeping a firm grip on her nephew, who sobbed painfully in her arms. She stopped only when she could no longer feel her legs moving and hid behind a tall fence. She collapsed on the grass and covered the boy's eyes.

In the background, a house was fuming. That scum must have planted explosive before he barged in so he could be sure he would kill everyone. Shaking, she put Roy down and hugged him close. There was no way her brother and sister-in-law survived that madness. They were definitely dead and she had Roy to take care of. He was hers, now.

He was her boy, her nephew became the son she had never asked for. Only because she hadn't been strong enough for her loved ones.

Chris rocked him, shaking badly. She spoke low, repeating the same words over and over in his small ear, tears wetting both their clothes. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."

It had all happened too fast...

XXXXX

Roy stared blankly at Edward, words not leaving his mouth. He was frozen, unmovable. Anger filled his senses and he could swear his legs were getting heavier under his weight.

Should he tell the blond that he didn't want to get him killed by a madman who swore to annihilate everything connected to his mother and father, which meant also to him? He looked down and sighed, remembering the moment which ruined his family. It didn't help his cause.

"Edward..." he mumbled. He felt his head ache viciously, like he had to cry and couldn't. It hurt. It hurt him deeply, because he didn't want to lose the little he had left. Damn, it took him so long to realise his feelings towards him and now- now he wanted to jump in the lion's mouth? He knew he was losing it, but he didn't know how he got in the situation.

He was fine in his little sorry state of mind. He didn't need anyone to pull him out of it. He had never needed that. Or at least not in such a hurry. He still needed to suffer a little more, he had to pay his due.

Ed continued to look in Roy's eyes. They were depthless and dead. He had always thought they would be focused and determined, but in fact they never showed anything. No hope. No happiness. No sadness. No nothing. Now, they were the same as always.

Hollow.

Maybe last night didn't change much. It had been just a matter of flesh, not of mind. The Flame Alchemist looked after all his subordinates, why would he be special? Perhaps, he had bedded some of them too... yes, he was not any better than the others. But why being with him felt so... so nice?

Finally noticing the sickish green tarnish the other's face, Ed tilted his head. That was a sight to behold, but he didn't enjoy it. He pinched Roy's forearm, trying to snap him out of his thoughts. "Hey, Mustang, get a grip of yourself! How old are you? Five?" he half-teased, half-mocked and lightly punched his elbow.

Roy covered both his mouth and nose. He felt his stomach clutch and his insides swirl. The pain was still there, in his cold heart, even after twenty-five years from that beautiful Sunday afternoon when he had lost his parents. He needed that pain. He needed the reminder. He had to be like that. There was no other way. He wouldn't have succeeded anything in his life if he had not been a bundle of snapping nerves, cool yet ready to burst.

"Um, Mustang, are you okay? Roy? Hey?" Ed looked at the retreating man. The General stood up mechanically. He crossed his arms around his waist and twisted his hands like he wanted to break the small bones and tendons that kept the muscles together. He had to calm down. It was unpardonable to react like that.

To break down in front of the little child he once gave the hope of walking again on his own two feet. The child that grew to become one of the greatest alchemist of their times.

The little flower he never suspected capable of blooming in such a short time. But what where flowers but the kings and queens of the garden for a moment, only to become the frail reminders of a death that came too soon? Rotten before their time.

Rotten. It was all rotten, everything he touched. All was putrid.

Roy suddenly remembered why he hated feeling anything romantic. He was always soiling it.

Fullmetal moved behind his superior. 'What has gotten into him? Is he having a panic attack or something?' he asked himself, not knowing what to do.

"Hey, old man," he started. That was not like the General he knew, that was for sure. Edward only knew his overly confident attitude, not the delicate-minded and disturbed one. He didn't ask any more questions and grabbed the taller man's wrists to prevent them from snapping in their awkward position.

"Leave and forget what you found out so far-"

"No."

Roy turned around and was faced with burning golden eyes. Not that look again...

"Edward, please. I do not want to lose you too, please. I am sorry, please understand already!" he shouted. He broke off the tight seal around his hands and took some distance.

What did he have to say to make Edward leave him alone? He fought to return to his normal self. When he felt confident enough, he pleaded and ordered in the same time, "Do not interfere, Fullmetal. I have realised something last night and- I do not want to have it taken away. You are important to me, you have always been, I guess. I am sorry... Let's leave it as an accident and follow our own paths. The tension got the better of us, heh? It sure fucks with minds, let's leave it to that."

Edward gasped. It felt so good to hear the first part that he completely ignored the 'accident' reference, no matter how much it hurt. Being important to someone... Funny, they had to insult and then fuck each other senselessly to realise their feelings. It was not that bad after all.

He laughed. "Tension? With that half-assed excuse you twisted all the girls' heads? I didn't know women around here are so easy to convince, I would have tried it myself!"

Roy couldn't find the words to argue, no matter how much he wanted to. No, he could never blame tension. It was normal for him to fool around with someone he would most likely never see again. However, the rules had changed and no one told him. He was losing at his own game against a mere pawn. He knew Edward was a lot more than any of those perfumed dames, but it was not the moment to accept him as something else. The obvious results of his slip had to be erased before things got too far between them. He had a reputation to maintain.

The older Elric didn't mind their escapade. It made him feel some real connection to his superior. The way he didn't let go of him, nearly asphyxiated him with kisses like he wanted to make sure it was for real, the sweet sensation he gave him by treating him like the most important person in the whole universe... It was wrong and right at the same time. 'He must have done it to everyone!' he reminded himself. Or...

Now that he thought of it, the previous night didn't work out as he had planned. He found nothing about the man and he was even more confused than before.

But that didn't stop Edward. "You really are stubborn. You know I can help! No hell is horrible enough for me, you can count on it!"

He wanted to test the waters. Maybe they were meant for each other. Edward knew how lonely they both were. Was he really prepared for such thing, and that with a man? He no longer had Alphonse - his brother was in the middle of founding his own family. Why couldn't he try to find someone?

'I'm getting so sentimental, though it seems I'm not the only one who broke down,' he thought as he examined Roy's confused eyes for the millionth time, eyes he never imagined to be so shallow and also so deep, so lifeless and so alive at the same time.

"Not this time, no. Let's forget this and see each other only for work, at the office."

Ed twitched in annoyance. "Man, and they say I am a child..." He rose on his toes and kissed the raven men to silence him. "Shut up, idiot. It was not an accident, I didn't say no, okay? Well, I said no, and then you – never mind... still not sorry, okay? Get it? Me, not sorry it happened, okay?" With a small smile, he said in the other's ears, "Roy, let me help you, just as you helped me."

He had to make some fire to get burnt. Till then, there was nothing to lose. To make sure it didn't sound awkward, he added loudly, "Come on, you make me sound girly! Let me in, at least for the effort of gambling and losing lamentably at extracting any information from you? How does that sound to you?"

Roy could only smile at that.

XXXXX

The man lit up a cigarette and put it between his lips. He savoured the exquisite taste the stick gave him and then blew the smoke in the cool late autumn air. The winter was setting faster than expected. 'It will snow soon... It will be so beautiful,' he thought as he walked on a remote back alley of the huge Central City.

What a lame name for a town. All the strategic cities in Amestris had simple names, describing the Cartesian point where they were situated. It looked good on the report, that is what they told him when he enrolled in the normal army. He had never been able to get into other military programmes.

Telford Mustang enjoyed the loneliness. He lived for one purpose he was no longer sure it was reasonable, but his father told him he should stay true to his cause. A woman smiled to him as he passed by her. He looked back at her with cold eyes and let a part of his large scar, well hidden behind his greying-blonde bangs, to be lit by a singular sunbeam. She immediately backed off and continued hanging the laundry. He didn't stop his march. As if he knew how to pace differently but with those decadent military steps.

It was rather interesting and easy to follow what happened to his dear nephew, Roy Mustang. He was the first in the family to work so openly for the military. For its good. He killed like his parents did, though not remorseless. He did it in a cursed war and struggled to avoid doing it again. It might be a weakness or it might be...

He halted his train of thoughts and hid behind a bin as a backdoor opened.

"Fine, if that's what you want. But count me on, okay, Roy? It would suck to be left out, there's so little excitement in signing papers all day! I need some action!" a blond male spoke as he descended the few doorsteps.

"Alright, but don't ruin everything just because you feel like it. Will you do this, Edward?" a deep voice from inside demanded velvety.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, you bastard. See you later, don't slack off while the Lieutenant is out cold!" the blond said and let go off the hand he held in a personal way, like sealing a promise.

Roy followed with dark eyes his newfound lover as he turned abruptly before entering the main street.

"Hey, Mustang!" the blond yelled. "You know you're late, right? That secretary of yours will kill you!"

"How you would like to see it, Fullmetal... not going to happen, shorty!" he replied chuckling. He wasn't afraid of the red haired Lieutenant he was stuck with until his assistant came back. Hawkeye was the biggest threat from work. But she was ill, at home. Searching for a lead on his marvellous uncle. He smiled and returned inside his house to get ready to leave for work.

Telford watched the door closing behind his long lost sibling. Luck was on his side, apparently. 'My, my, so that's the kid you've recruited? What's your relationship to him, that you hold hands with him and you allow him to call your name? This will be so much fun, little Roy.'

However, he could not unfold his plan just yet. He wanted it to be humiliating for the alchemist. He wanted to make him suffer the same sufferance he felt so long ago. Maybe worse.

But, frankly, for what?

XXXXX

It was the first time in such a long period when Roy felt this good at work. The world was so beautiful and life was so nice to live... Scratch that, it was the first he ever felt good at work. 'I am acting too cheesy,' he scolded himself.

The red haired replacement gave him awkward looks. He struggled to maintain his dignified aura and failed with such grace, he deserved some recognition. Someone cared for him as a person, not as a higher ranked officer... that felt so comfortable... and warm.

Wait! What if Edward just did that to get under skin? True, he was a bit too desperate to get into his pants... No... he just wanted to find about his secret mission? Well, he didn't find much, as the only information Roy let him know was that a spy attacked the National File Library and managed to snatch some documents and that the head of the operation was an old threat to his family, and he said it all just to make the insistent alchemist shut up. The boy could be so loud sometimes. But still, what if he did it just for curiosity's sake? If that was so, it totally sucked. The simple thought of that determined the Flame to return to his usual gloomy demeanour.

'What if that's so? He said he wanted to help, but... argh, idiot, you have known him for almost half of his life! He would not do such a low thing,' he decided. Fullmetal was his shining knight, or at least in his mind it sounded plausible. No need to find the 'if's, he went through them in the morning. He should just go with the flow. It was better like that.

He got so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't hear the phone ringing. The phone, which was placed on the edge of the desk, fell on the floor, along with some papers that got caught in the telephonic cable. Roy woke from his daze and reached for the speaker. "Yes?" he replied as he held a badly aching finger in his mouth. He caught it in the phone's cradle.

"Hello, Roy-Roy! How are you?" a stifled voice spoke.

"Oh, Elizabeth, how are you? Did the little bunny get a cold?" he turned on 'flirting mode', but without pain. Damn that finger, it hurt!

Riza snored at the comment. Little bunny her arse. She was an untamed beast, after all, she was the only reason why Roy finished his reports in time. "Ha-ha, kind of. I just wanted to hear you... I thought your voice would help me get better."

"Of course. If you weren't sick, I would have taken you out."

"Other time, sweetie. I miss you so much, it hurts. I hope you are not lonely."

"I always am when you are not around." Mustang nearly burst into laughter at the blatant lie. He was lonely in general, not only when she was not around. Thinking of it, he should take Edward somewhere... to make sure he will not get to feel lonely. Would he accept? Was it too fast?

'Roy, no sappy thoughts and no shyness. You are no teenager,' he repeated in his mind. Who would have thought he was so romantic? All over a man he had never imagined he would get. Not in his wildest dreams.

"You know, the weather is so lovely it would be a shame to waste it and not go out with someone. But I'm sure you can find someone before I get better." Roy widened his eyes at the statement. Was Hawkeye implying something?

"Do not be like that, beautiful angel. You are irreplaceable."

"Aw, you are so sweet," she giggled, forcing back her coughs.

"Well, Elizabeth, I am so glad I heard your voice. Get better soon," he rushed his subordinate. They exchanged some pleasantries and then hang up.

So nice of Hawkeye, to see if Roy was doing his work and check if he was still alive. Then he remembered he had work to do.

"Damn it!" He slammed his fists on the desk. A few paperclips bounced off the fresh pile of paperwork. There were so many papers he could built the Briggs Mountains from scratch with them.

The real reason for which she had called was to announce him she had lost track of their threat. That made him angry. 'So he went into hiding again? What are you waiting for, Uncle?'

Better make sure Fullmetal was going to stay out of it. He did not want to destroy half of the city in some useless fight, like they proudly had done before, twice or thrice.

They had just rebuilt the headquarters and the damaged neighbourhoods, he was tired of unnecessary renovations. But no one ever knew, with his luck.

A/N: That's it for now. I hope it made sense, I didn't write it at once, but on parts... and my mood was very different from a day from another... but still! It can't be that bad, huh?

As far as I've seen, the last chapter got mixed reviews. I'm sorry for the rush, but it came natural to me to write it like that. It will make more sense in no time. At least you enjoyed the little action and I promise there will be more! Stick a little longer...

Thank you all for putting up with me and thanks for all the support. As always, leave me a review, favourite or follow this story. Lots of kisses to everyone!