Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His world was black.

It hadn't always been this way. For eight years of his life he had taken light for granted, taken seeing for granted.

He wished he'd appreciated it more. Because now everything was black, and he was alone.

'How edgy Roy.' He thought to himself. 'Pull yourself together.'

After all, there was no point thinking about the past. He couldn't change it, no matter how hard he wished that he could.

It should have just been a normal, monotonous school day. He would have gone through it being ignored as usual, perhaps even pushed over a few times if whatever deity up there was feeling particularly malicious.

Today though, things were different. It all changed with one simple sentence.

“Class, I would like you to meet Edward Elric.”

He ignored the teacher, staring at his desk (or at least, what he was pretty sure was his desk), running his hands over the smooth plastic. His eyes watered again, and he blinked a few times, rubbing at them until they stopped.

“Would you like to say a few words about yourself?” The teacher asked, even though she must have known that no one was really paying any attention.

“Erm.” A new voice said. It was smooth and silky, despite being slightly high pitched. This must have been the new kid.

He found a piece of chewing gum on his desk. It was still warm and sticky. Roy tried not to make a face whilst the students directly around him tittered.

“I just moved here, obviously...” The new guy continued. “I'm seventeen, my birthday is in December, and, erm... I like running. Track and field. I'm also a black belt Tae Kwan Do.” He finished rather awkwardly.

“Welcome, Edward.” The teacher said, a warm tone to her voice. “Why don't you take a seat next to Roy?”

This made Roy jolt, his head impulsively snapping up to look in what he thought was the direction of the teacher. The class erupted into noise, but it was nothing he hadn't heard before.

“Settle down!” The teacher cried. They did not. Amongst the chatter, he heard footsteps, a chair being pulled out and then pushed back in.

“Hi.” Edward said.

“Hello.” Roy muttered. He returned his gaze to the desk, and wrung his hands together, feeling the smoothness of the unburnt skin on his right hand.

There was silence between the two for a few moments. The teacher seemed to have given up on getting everyone to be quiet, instead just leaving them alone whilst she took the register.

“What is there to do for fun around here?” Edward asked, seemingly undeterred by Roy's unenthusiasm, or just Roy in general.

“Why would you think I would know anything about that?” Roy replied sarcastically.

Edward laughed, the sound melodious and gone too quickly. “Should have figured, sorry.”

Roy was silent. No one had treated him like that since, well, Maes.

“I, er, think there's a track team.” He murmured, not quite sure what to say. “Not sure about Tae Kwan Do.”

“Cool. Thanks.” The other answered. “I'll be sure to check that out.” He sounded like he might be smiling, although Roy wasn't sure why anyone would ever smile at anything he said.

Roy returned to concentrating on running his hands over the desk. It was cool and smooth and rather nice.

When they were finally dismissed, Roy attempted to stand up but was immediately shoved to one side. This was nothing new, but what was new was him not hitting the ground. Instead, he was caught by strong arms.

“Easy there.” Edward said. His hands were cold, despite being covered in some sort of cloth, and strong.

“Sorry.” Roy stammered, righting himself as quickly as possible and locating his bag and cane. “I'll leave you alone now.”

With that, he made his escape.

From what he could gather, he didn't have any classes with the new kid. It wasn't something that Roy really dwelled on. After all, it wasn't as though Edward would ever talk to him again after the day was over. He would hear the rumours from someone, and after that he would treat him like everyone else – either ignore him, or actively bully him. Life would move on.

Roy was picked up from school by his current foster mother and managed to avoid answering her questions about his day in any detail. As usual, she sighed, and didn't pester him further. It was the one thing he liked about her – she knew when to shut up and stop asking.

He immediately ran upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind him and settling himself on his bed. He pulled out his phone, a 'welcome to the family' present from 'Just-Call-Us-Claire-and-Joe'. It was a rather new touchscreen thing with a person who spoke and told you what you touched, and although the screen was cracked from people throwing it around it was possibly the nicest thing anyone had given him since his iPod.

He shoved his earphones in his ears and lay back. He loved listening to music – it was his one escape from the world. When the crooning voice of Alex Turner reached his ears, he floated away into another universe, lost in the darkness. He didn't know how many hours he had lain there until he was gently shaken, and the earphones carefully removed.

“Roy, sweetie?” Claire asked. “It's dinner time.”

He let her guide him downstairs and into the kitchen, although he hadn’t needed the help for a while – it had only taken him a couple of weeks to map out the house. He sank into the chair she provided him and ate his dinner in silence. Claire attempted conversation, but he mostly gave one-word answers. He knew she was getting frustrated with him, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It would all be over soon anyway. 

It took him a while to sleep that night, as usual, and he wasn't sure if he even did. He had his headphones in, once again listening to music, and the next thing he knew was that they weren't in and it was time to get dressed, so he thought that he had for once. He was tired all the time regardless.

The next week continued much the same, a routine that Roy was grateful for. Wake up, shower, school, lunch, get pushed around, more school, sit around while the rest had PE, home, dinner, school work, sleep, repeat. He knew that Edward was still next to him in homeroom, however, the new boy didn't attempt conversation again, another thing that Roy was grateful for. He didn't think that he had had an actual conversation with someone in around ten years.

He was secretly glad that Edward had decided to just ignore him. He didn't need another bully, especially one sat next to him for an hour every day.

A week since Edward had first joined (at least he thought it had been a week, all the days seemed to blur into one) Claire picked him up, and her questions about his day seemed to get on his nerves more than usual. He said as little as possible, and although she didn't press him, he knew that she was disappointed.

He was used to being a disappointment, so he just ignored the feeling of guilt that threatened to bubble up.

When they got to the house, he was about to run upstairs as normal when his foster mother grabbed his hand.

“Roy?” She asked. “We would like to talk to you.”

She led him through to the kitchen and sat him down on a chair. “Joe and I have been talking.”

This was it. He was being sent back. It always began like that – 'We need to talk', or 'We've been talking', something along those lines. He would be sent back to the orphanage, they would find a new foster family to lump him on, and he would be sent to a new school with a new set of bullies. The cycle continued. He tried not to be disappointed. He had been with this couple for almost six months, almost the amount of time he’d been with Chris. They’d been the nicest since her, for sure.

Roy schooled his face into one of indifference. “Yes?”

“We're both worried about you.” Joe said. Roy hadn't even realised he was in the room.

“You barely eat, you barely even speak.” Claire continued. “You come home with strange bruises and cuts but insist you're fine.” She sounded on the verge of tears, voice thick and lumpy.

“We think you need help.” Joe finished.

This was the most original we're-kicking-you-out speech he'd ever heard. It sounded as though they might actually-

“Are you being bullied?” Claire asked.

Roy immediately shook his head. “I'm just clumsy, it's because I can't see where I'm going.”

“It looks a lot like bullying to me, son.”

“Don't call me son.” He muttered.

“Okay.” Joe replied. “But we want you to see a professional.”

All his pent-up anger seemed to burst out of him, and Roy exploded to his feet, knocking the chair over behind him. “No!”

“We understand it's tough, but we just want what's best for you.” Claire said.

“How could you ever understand?!” Roy yelled.

“You're right, we can't.” Joe stated, voice level and calm. “But, son, you need to calm down.”

“Don't call me son!” Roy screamed, turning on his heel and attempting to angrily storm out of the room. However, he tripped over the chair (or at least what he assumed was the chair) that was lying abandoned on the floor, and fell to the ground, smashing his head on the linoleum.

 Roy didn't like this home.

He had to share a room with three other boys, all of whom were older than him. They made him sleep on the top bunk, just to laugh at him trying to get up and down the tiny ladder. They always pushed him around and shouted mean things at him and liked to leave things on the floor for him to trip over. The parents never seemed to be around, but when they were they just ignored him or shouted at him.

He didn't want to live here anymore. He wanted his parents, but they weren't coming back. Not ever.

Roy didn't want to get out of bed. The other kids here would bully him, and then the kids at school would bully him, and then if the parents were around they would scream at him. He just wanted to be in his house, making Yul-lan with his 엄마, or playing football in the garden with Maes and his dad. But if he didn't get out of bed then he would be shouted at. He wasn't sure which was worse.

He was saved from making the decision when the covers were pulled off him and he was literally dragged out of bed. He hit his burns painfully against the ladder and had to bite his lip to stop himself yelling out with pain.

“ Come on.” His foster dad boomed. “If you're not ready for school in ten minutes then you're going to get a beating, you hear me?”

T he other boys in his room were snickering behind him, and Roy felt his face flush with embarrassment.

“You understand that, retard?” The man asked.

“ Yes sir.” He croaked, barely able to hear his own voice.

The man just threw him unceremoniously to the ground and stormed out of the room. One of the boys - probably the oldest one – kicked him in the chest.

“Come on freak.” He crowed. “Get ready for school.”

Roy pushed himself off the ground, scrabbling around with his hands in front of him to try and find the wardrobe whilst the others all laughed at him. He had been given a cane in the hospital, but it had immediately been stolen when he got here, and he didn't know where it had gone. When he eventually got to his destination he felt around for his clothes – he could always tell which ones were his because they were always a lot rougher than everyone else's and were usually dumped on the floor – but he couldn't find them. He frantically searched for them, but they were nowhere to be found.

“What did you do?” He asked, voice quiet, tears pricking at his eyes.

The youngest and meanest one just laughed. “We might have moved them. But it's not our fault if you can't find your clothes.” The others joined in laughing.

Roy just slumped to the floor whilst they jeered at him, hands painfully clenched in fists to try and stop himself from crying. It didn’t work. He seemed to cry all the time now - the doctors had said something about his tear ducts being scarred, but he hadn’t been paying attention.

When his foster father came back, he was silent the whole time. At least it meant that he didn't have to go to school that day.

The next thing he knew, he was in a bed. The covers were scratchy, there was a consistent beeping noise in the background, and there was a chemical smell.

'Hospital.' Roy thought. His head hurt like a bitch, but it was nothing he wasn't used to.

“Mr. Mustang, at last.” Said a new voice, low and gravelly. “Looks like you had a bit of an accident.”

“I wouldn't know.” Roy retorted.

The man laughed. “I'm Doctor Hoenheim. How does the head feel?”

His eyes watered and he wiped them before it got too bad. “It hurts.”

“As it should.” The good doctor said. “You needed stitches. Your parents were very worried.”

Roy didn't have the energy to tell him that they weren't actually his parents.

“Do you want to see them?” The doctor asked. Roy managed to nod his head. A few seconds later the door was flung open and two sets of feet rushed in.

“Roy!” Claire exclaimed. There was a sudden pressure around his shoulders, a head next to his. He inhaled Claire's artificial strawberry scent. He didn't know how long it had been since he had last been hugged, so he let himself lean into the touch, just a little bit. “We were so worried about you.” His foster mother said, pulling away.

Roy was suddenly cold.

“You were out for two hours.” Joe told him, stood somewhere to Roy's right. “We thought...” He trailed off.

“Now that your parents are present, we'll discuss your condition.” The doctor said, voice a lot less warm than it had been a minute ago. “You had a nasty laceration on your forehead, and you needed stitches. We suspect you might also have a concussion, although we'll have to wait and see what your symptoms are before we make a full diagnosis. In the meantime, you should stay off school for at least three days, and get lots of rest. You'll come back in a couple of weeks to get the stitches removed.” Roy nodded, trying not to show how happy he was about getting three days off school. Three less days of being shoved around.

“Now, your parents were telling me that they're worried about your behaviour.” Doctor Whatshisface continued. Roy sank into the sheets. “They think you're being bullied, and that you might have some form of depression.”

"I'm not depressed.” Roy told him. His voice was croaky.

“I never said you were. However, I do think it's best that you see a psychologist. Now-”

“I'm not seeing a shrink.”

“You are, I'm afraid.” The doctor said without humour. “You've clearly gone through some tough times, what with your parents and -”

“Stop.” Roy pleaded, squeezing his eyes shut as they threatened to tear up yet again. He felt like he was spinning.

There was a small pause. “I'm referring you to our best, don't worry.” The doctor said. “You'll have the first appointment tomorrow. We'll keep you in overnight to monitor you, and she'll come in tomorrow morning. Is that okay?”

Roy just nodded. He didn't think he could talk.

“You can rest now, Roy, it's fine. I'll talk to your parents and see you in the morning.”

Roy leant back into the pillows, turning over onto his side. As he was drifting off, he heard voices talking.

“Possible PTSD... malnourished... troubled youth... fire...”

But he was gone.

The next time he was aware of himself he was still in a bed. He could hear the hustle and bustle of the hospital; people talking, wheels squeaking and that consistent beeping noise and smell. He attempted to sit up but gave up and collapsed onto his pillows.

“Good morning!” A chirpy voice said, wheeling something into the room. A trolley?

“What time is it?” Roy asked, voice still croaky and uncooperative.

"It's just after nine AM.” The woman told him. “I'm checking your vitals now, and then I'll give you some breakfast. How are you feeling?”

It took him a few seconds to absorb the information and generate a response. “I'm fine.” He went with. His head hurt a bit less than last night and it seemed a little easier to think.

The woman just made an agreeing sound and busied about around him. “Your parents are just outside. Shall I send them in?”

“They're not my parents.” Roy told her.

“Shall I send them in?” She repeated. Roy just shrugged and listened to her leave. A few seconds later the door squeaked again, and two sets of footsteps walked in.

"Morning Roy!” Claire said. He felt a pressure on the end of his bed and assumed it was her sitting down.

“How are you?” Joe asked. Roy gave him the same answer he had given the nurse.

“That's good.” Claire replied. “We're glad you're feeling better.”

“The doctor will be around soon, and the psychologist is coming at ten.”

“Do you want some breakfast sweetie?” Claire asked. He swallowed his pride at being called sweetie and nodded, feeling hunger pangs in his stomach. “There's some toast, and OJ.”

He nodded again. “Where is it?”

“Here.” Joe said, placing a tray in his outstretched hands. He settled it on his knees and felt around for the toast, managing to eat a couple of bites before he felt sick.

The doctor came and went, checking him over and asking him questions. He drifted through, absently nodding and giving answers. Joe and Claire chatted meaninglessly about something or other, he didn't know what. He felt like he was in another place entirely.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. “Hello.” A new voice said, quite low pitched but still obviously a woman. “I'm Doctor Curtis. How're you doing, Mr Mustang?”

“Alright.” He stated.

“Can you give us some privacy?” Doctor Curtis asked, and he heard his foster parents leave the room, the door closing behind them.

“Alright then.” She said, settling on the edge of the bed. “Today we're just going to talk and get to know each other a little better. You go to Sir Bradley’s, right?” He nodded. “Do you enjoy it?”

Roy shrugged. “It's alright, I guess. I like learning.”

“What's your favourite subject?”

“Politics. Or Chemistry.”

“Why is that?”

“I dunno. They're interesting.” He rubbed his eyes.

“Your parents said you like music. What do you listen to?”

Roy was sick of the pointless back and forth. “What’s the point of this?”

“I'm trying to get to know you better.”

He huffed. “Well great, you know some pointless stuff. I don't need to see a shrink, so can we call it a day?”

“Why don't you need a psychiatrist?” The doctor sounded curious, and Roy could just imagine her leaning forward, scribbling his issues down on a notepad for the world to see.

“Because I'm fine.”

“Your parents seem to think otherwise.”

“They're not my parents!” He shouted, anger bubbling beneath his skin. He clenched his hands in the scratchy sheets.

“Of course. Your real parents are dead, aren't they?”

That was the tipping point. “Shut up!” He screamed. “Don't you think I know that?” He turned over onto his side and drew his legs into his chest, digging his nails into the scarred skin.

The doctor was silent for a few seconds, the only sounds the background noise of the hospital. “That was over the line, I apologise.” He just screwed his eyes shut, more out of reflex than anything else, but latching onto the feeling it made. “Do you want me to tell you about myself? It’s only equivalent.” He said nothing in reply. Doctor Curtis sighed slightly, nothing more than a quiet exhale. “Well, my first name is Izumi, I'm married, and my husband is a butcher. In my free time, I tutor some martial arts classes and I also like to read.” Roy thought he heard her swallow. “Look, I understand what you're going through. I'm no stranger to depression myself. It's okay to be upset that someone's died.” She was silent a few seconds. “It's not the same, but I had a miscarriage a while ago. I was depressed myself, that's why I trained as a psychiatrist in the first place, to help people going through grief.”

Roy shifted, sitting himself up in the bed, the sheets whispering as he moved. “You're not joking, are you?”

“No.” She said. He mulled over her words for a second, considering what to say next.

“They might have been right about one thing.” He admitted, pulling his legs up to his chest and hugging them, feeling childish.

“What's that?”

“It's not really bullying though.” He explained, pressing down hard on his leg to keep himself grounded. “I mean, it's just a few people, and they push me around a bit. It's nothing major.”

“Its major to me, Roy.” Doctor Curtis said. “You're handicapped and can't fight back.”

“They're just joking, they don't mean it.” He knew they were lies but couldn't stop. “And at least it's me and not someone else.”

The doctor didn't seem convinced. “Do you feel that you deserve to be bullied, Roy?”

He was silent. He didn't want to admit to himself, let alone her, that the answer was yes.

“Does this happen often?” She continued.

“Not that often, like once a day maybe?” He lied.

“That seems like a lot to me.”

“It's not that bad. It could be worse.”

Dr. Curtis was quiet for a few moments. “We're out of time for today, but I think could benefit from more sessions with me. I'm glad you managed to open up to me about the bullying-”

“It's not bullying.” He interrupted.

“About the bullying. I really think that we should contact your school and make sure that you're getting the help and support that you need there.”

“No, definitely not.” He stated.

“I really think-”

“No, it'll just get worse, please don't.” He pleaded.

Izumi just sighed. “Alright then, I can't tell anyone unless you want me to. But think about it some more. It's in your best interests to, I think.” She stood up, the pressure on his bed vanishing. “I'll go talk with your parents about more sessions.” Roy opened his mouth to object, but before he could say anything she continued, “I won't tell them anything you've said, just about more sessions. I promise. I'll see you soon.”

“Bye.” Roy said, and he heard the door open and close. He slumped into the pillows, curling up in a ball under the covers. Why did he say all that? He bet he sounded so pathetic, like a little kid. She'll think that he’s stupid now, and depressed, and she'll send him away and tell everyone and it's not like anyone needs an excuse to stare at him more and he’ll get worse he should just die he deserves to die he deserves to go to hell for what he did he-

“Roy?” Claire's voice snapped him out of his stupor, and he emerged from the blankets, sitting up and turning his head in the direction he thought that she was. “Doctor Hoenheim thinks that you're okay to go home now, is that alright?” Although his head was still pounding slightly (even more so now that she'd reminded him of it) he nodded. “And we've booked a couple more sessions with Doctor Curtis, you'll see her on Friday.”

“How many days away is that?” He asked, realising he didn't even know what day it was.

“Three days, after your first day back at school. It's Tuesday.” Joe replied, answering Roy's unasked question.

“She said that you were really beginning to open up to her.” Claire sounded pleased. Roy made a non-committal sound. “I'm glad you're making progress.”

"It's early days yet, dear.” Joe said, although his voice gave away how happy he was. Roy simply clenched his hands in the sheets, letting them ground him to the earth. 

Chapter Text

The next few days passed in a blur. He went home from the hospital and spent most of the days off school in his room, listening to music and generally being out of it. His foster parents kept visiting every few hours to check on him and force feed him, but other than that he was pretty much left alone, for which he was glad. The days before had had a lot more social contact than he was used to, leaving him drained.

He did let his foster parents drag him downstairs and watch a film with them, however, just to show them that he was 'recovering' and not a complete failure of a human being. They watched one of the Harry Potter films and Roy hated to admit that he enjoyed it, despite his loathing of audio descriptions. He remembered watching the fourth one in the cinema with Maes when it had first come out and being equal parts terrified and enthralled. Maes had been so scared that he had to visit the bathroom whenever it got too scary and Roy had teased him relentlessly about it for the next week. Of course, after that... He never did see the fifth film.

He was spiralling down into a dangerous rabbit hole, so he concentrated on the feeling of the couch under his fingers - the corduroy, the tiny stitches and the embroidered flowers - and he felt much better.

Friday came around much too quickly and before he knew it he was sat in homeroom waiting for the teacher to take the register, nerves fluttering in his stomach. He was absently drumming a pattern on the table with his right hand when he felt a small tap on his right shoulder.

“Hey.” Edward said. “I know this is going to sound really weird, but, erm, were you in the hospital on Monday night?”

That was weird. “Yeah, I was.”

“Er, my dad was your doctor?” It came out like a question. “Doctor Hoenheim, he's an ER doctor, and he said that he'd treat you because he knew that you were my age and I'd mentioned I sat next to a Roy in homeroom and he thought it might be you and that's probably a breach of patient confidentiality- God, sorry, I'm rambling.” Edward cut himself off, and Roy could imagine him giving a shaky smile. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, now.” Roy told him. “They think that I had a concussion.” He tried desperately to come off as confident, like this wasn't the longest conversation he had had with a peer in ten years (Alex didn’t count – they’d barely talked).

“That sucks.”

Roy just shrugged.

“I'm glad you're back though. I was getting lonely.” It was like Roy could hear the smile in Edward's voice. He couldn't help himself, his mouth fell open in shock.

“You- are you serious?”

“Deadly. You have a very comforting presence.” Edward chuckled, and Roy loved the sound.

“Don't you have any friends?” Roy asked abruptly, unable to believe that someone with a laugh like that could ever be lonely. “Shit, sorry.”

“No problem.” Edward told him. “I do, just not in homeroom. And I could ask you the same question.”

“That's different.” He was saved the problem of talking further by the bell ringing. He listened to Edward stand up.

“See you later, then?” The other boy asked.

“Yeah, bye E-Edward.”

“Call me Ed, all my friends call me that.” With that, he was gone.

Roy sat for a few seconds, digesting the events that had just happened. He was about to leave himself when he was hit hard on the back of his head, practically sending him tumbling over the desk.

“See you E-E-E-Edward.” One of his more frequent assailants mocked. Others around him laughed, and Roy felt his face flush.

“Freak.” Another said. His head was throbbing so hard it felt like his brain was trying to burst out of his skull; his eyes watered furiously.

“Aww, is the baby gonna cry?”

“Are you a fag now as well?” The original asked. Roy managed to shake his head frantically.

“Shouldn't you boys be getting to class?” The teacher asked, and with a few more chuckles and jeers, they were gone. Roy quickly gathered his books and extended his cane, tapping his way to Chemistry before the teacher could ask him anymore uncomfortable questions. He'd had quite enough of socialising for one week.

“How was your first day back?” Izumi asked him, guiding him to a sofa. It was plush and velvet and Roy liked the feel of it under his fingertips. It reminded him of sitting with Chris, drinking tea and-

“Fine.” He said simply.  His therapist sat down on his right.

“Just fine?” She pressed.

He shrugged. “I talked to my neighbour in homeroom today. He’s new.”

“Was that nice?”

Roy found himself nodding.

“What's his name?”

“Edward.”

“Is his surname Elric?” Dr. Curtis asked, and Roy nodded again, feeling weirdly freaked out. “He comes to my martial arts classes with his brother. He's a nice enough kid, although don't mention his height.” She laughed at some joke that was unknown to Roy. “He's a black belt in Tae Kwan Do, I'm being serious.”

“Noted.” Roy tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace.

They were silent for a few seconds. He could hear birds singing outside, cars driving by on the nearby road, people talking-

“So other than that, did anything else happen at school?” Izumi asked. “Anymore incidents?”

He shook his head, not wanting to bother arguing with her. After what had happened in homeroom, they managed to find him at lunchtime and take his food, but thankfully nothing physical, and he hadn’t been hungry anyway. Although his head was feeling better, he wasn't sure how much more it could take.

“That's good.” She said, although Roy didn't think that she believed him. “I still think that you should talk to the school, or at the very least your parents.”

“They're not my parents.”

“Foster parents then.” She corrected. Roy just huffed. “Alright then, end of discussion.”

There was quiet again.

“Today,” Izumi started, “we're going to talk about your childhood.”

“No.”

“Nothing serious, don't worry.” She said calmly, attempting to reassure him. “Just talking about some of the memories you have. Can you give me an example?”

That was easy. “We went to the fair once.”

“Who is we?”

“Me, my parents, and my best friend. We went on the carousel and my eo-mum let us have cotton candy.”

“How old were you then?”

“Eight.” Only a few weeks before It had happened.

“Can you tell me about your parents, Roy?” Izumi asked.

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, threatening to crush his windpipe. “My dad was really tall and strong although he was really gentle, and he had blond hair. He would always lift me up on his shoulders, and when mom was out he would sneak in candy and we would watch movies.” His eyes itched and he wiped at imaginary tears, scratching at the scar tissue around his eyes. Maybe he was getting another infection. “My mom-” He gulped. “My mom was the kindest woman I knew. Everyone always said I looked just like her. She would always read to me before bed and made the best kimchi.” He shook his head. “I can't talk about this anymore.”

“That's alright, Roy.” There was suddenly a hand on his shoulder and he jolted slightly. “You've done well.”

His eyes filled with water and he damned his faulty tear ducts. “I miss them so much.” He admitted quietly, his voice thick.

“That's natural.” Izumi's voice was comforting and reminded him of his mother. It made him want to cry more.

They sat like that for a few minutes, Izumi quietly rubbing circles into his shoulder and Roy finding comfort in the silence. Eventually, when he had calmed down enough, and his eyes had stopped embarrassingly watering, he shuffled slightly to the left, away from her, expanding the distance between them so that he didn’t get too comfortable. Doctor Curtis just gave a disappointed sigh and changed the subject to something meaningless. He managed to barely hold it together for the rest of the session, giving quiet answers to every question she asked him.

“Well, that's it for today.” Izumi said after what felt like a decade. “You just stay here for a minute, I'm going to talk to your foster parents for a bit. I'll come get you in a minute, alright?” He didn't bother properly answering, just shrugging his shoulders.

“Be back in a few.” She told him, and Roy heard the door close behind him. He could hear the quiet murmuring of just-call-us-Claire-and-Joe and Doctor Curtis on the other side. He wrung his hands together, feeling the contrast in textures from his left hand to his right, whilst trying to concentrate on what they were saying about him.

“-opening up.” Izumi was saying. “However, he is extremely troubled. I think he definitely has some form of depression, as well as Post Trumatic Stress Disorder. He possibly has social anxiety as well.” Roy thanked God that she didn't mention the bullying.

“He doesn't come across as socially anxious.” Joe said.

“No, but he shows signs - you can be socially anxious without stammering every sentence. It's just a theory right now.” She paused. “I think he would really benefit from...” Roy let himself zone out at this point, feeling the soft velvet of the arm of the chair beneath his fingertips. He stroked it absently whilst humming the song that had been stuck in his head all day.

“Roy?” Claire asked, bringing him back into the real world. “Time to go, honey.”

He stood up and was handed his cane by one of his foster parents. He let himself be guided out of the office, murmuring a quiet goodbye to Izumi as he was swept out of the door, and tried to forget that he had countless more of those sessions to endure.

Roy was shoved to the ground again, his knees stinging painfully. He didn't bother to get up; he'd learnt early on there was no use.

“You're a freak.” One of the boys – Connor, maybe? - spat, kicking him in the chest. “Maes was our friend!” The other kids present echoed the cry.

Roy didn't reply.

“I wish you'd died with them!”

He could hear Gracia crying a couple of meters away. “I was going to marry him!” She sobbed. “We were gonna have kids and have a dog and-” She broke off into fits of tears. Roy wanted to tell her that she was stupid, Maes would never marry her, but he didn't. He said nothing at all.

Eventually, they got bored with him and ran off to do something else. He crawled over to a tree and sat underneath it, legs curled up to his chest, for the rest of the lunch break, listening to the other kids play without him.

He missed Maes more than ever at this point. He had class on his own now; someone to teach him Braille as well as his other lessons. He hated learning Braille – the dots seemed to make no sense to him and it was a constant reminder that this was permanent, that nothing would ever be the same.

He hadn't had many friends before, but he certainly didn't have any now. The boys at home had gotten bored of him at this point, and soon the boys at school would too. And then he would be all alone.

He was beginning to think that it was for the best.

On Sunday, Roy came downstairs for breakfast for the first time in at least two years, feeling surprisingly hungry. After munching through a bowl of cereal, he was about to retreat back into his room when he was stopped by Joe.

“We want to talk to you for a second.” His foster dad said, guiding Roy to the sofa.

“We talked to Doctor Curtis after your session on Friday.” Claire said. Roy nodded, remembering. “She suggested something, and after thinking about it a bit we've decided to go with it.”

Roy broke out into a cold sweat. Were they sending him back? He liked this couple, almost as much as he'd liked Chris; he'd be sad to leave them.

“Roy?” Joe asked.

He blinked, realising that he had somehow zoned out. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“We're getting you a guide dog.” Claire told him.

Time seemed to stop. His mouth fell open on its own, his useless eyes widening on impulse. “What?!”

“She thought it might be a companion for you and give you a bit of comfort.”

“We've already called the centre and you're going down today to have some training and choose one!” Claire seemed excited.

“But what happens when I go back?” Roy blurted.

“Back where?”

“The o-orphanage.” Roy hated saying it, it made him feel like a child instead of the adult he technically was.

There was silence.

“Roy,” Joe started, “in case you didn't realise it, we want you to stick around.”

“We care for you a lot.” Claire said, voice small. “We're not sending you back.”

Roy's eyes filled with tears, and not because of his broken ducts this time. “Thank you.” He whispered. “For everything.”

There was a pressure around his shoulders, two sets of arms engulfing him. He could smell a vague combination of strawberry and dust.

“You're very much welcome.” Joe said as the two pulled away, and even he sounded a bit teary. “Now how about you go get dressed and we go get that dog, alright?”

Six hours later he was coming home with a wriggling puppy in his lap. He was told she was a golden retriever, had long white fur, and her name was Scout. He couldn't stop running his hands through her fur, along her head, across the ears, down her back. She was so soft and comforting. He could hear her breathing and feel her tail thumping on his leg. He knew that he had the biggest grin on his face and he probably looked like an idiot, but he couldn't bring himself to care; this was the happiest he had been in a very long time. In the front of the car, his foster parents were singing along to the radio, clearly picking up on his good mood.

“I always wanted a dog.” He found himself saying. When he was little he had an imaginary Husky called Sammy and he had begged his parents relentlessly for a real one. They had told him that he would be allowed one for his tenth birthday. Of course, he never had ended up with one after all, and he was glad of it, happy he hadn't been responsible for another death.

“Well now you have one.” Claire said, clearly smiling.

“She's a cutie.” Joe laughed from behind the steering wheel.

Roy just found himself smiling, rubbing the soft fur on Scout's head, her tail thumping happily against his leg, feeling like life didn't get much better than this.

“Hey.” Ed greeted as he arrived in homeroom, slamming his books onto the desk with seemingly little care. “How was your weekend?”

“I got a guide dog.” Roy blurted. Trying to keep the information to himself had been killing him, and he was glad he had someone to tell; if he didn't, he probably would have ended up screaming it from the rooftops.

“That's great!” Edward exclaimed, sounding genuinely happy. He paused for a second. “Where is it?”

“We only got her yesterday, she's still getting used to the unfamiliar environment. The handlers said I'd be allowed to start bringing her to school next week.”

“That's amazing.” The other said, sounding sincere. “I love dogs.” The teacher started to take the register and the rest of the room went silent. “What's her name? How old is she?” Ed whispered.

“Scout, she's twenty months.”

“That's so cute.”

There was a series of laughs from behind them. “Don't infect the new kid.” One of them said. “You might kill him too.”

“Shut up.” Ed hissed.

“You're defending him?” Another asked. “What's he done to you?”

“Oh, I don't know, maybe be a fucking decent human being, unlike some people.”

The bell ringing interrupted the argument and the room erupted in noise, bags and books and desks clattering all around him.

“They're gone.” Edward said after a few seconds.

“Thanks.” Roy said, standing up and reaching for his cane and bag.

“No problemo.” The other was quiet for a second. “What lesson do you have before lunch?”

He paused. “Politics.”

“What room?”

“P5.” Roy swung the bag onto his shoulder and extended the cane, suspicious of what might be coming.

“Cool.” Ed sounded like he was gathering his books. “I'll come pick you up, we'll have lunch together.”

“What about your other friends?”

“They'll be there too. I'll show you to our secret eating spot. See you then?”

“Yeah.” Roy told him, despite the voice screaming in his head not to and the butterflies swarming in his stomach.

“Bye!” With that, Ed was gone.

Roy hadn't expected anything to come of it. After politics had finished he stayed in his seat and was about to pull out his lunch when the door was flung open with an almightly slam, Edward yelling his greeting at what seemed to be as loud as he could. Roy almost jumped a foot in the air.

“What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up? You said you'd eat with us.” The other said. “I mean, it's fine if you don't want to, I just thought...” He trailed off, scratching at something.

“No, it's fine.” Roy said. He felt sick. “I'll go.”

“Great!” Ed perked up. “It's not far away.”

“Is that okay?” Roy asked the teacher. He thought that he'd better ask first; he liked this teacher, and he was the only one who seemed to sort of like Roy as well.

“Go ahead.” The teacher said, sounding pleased.

Ed took Roy's hand in his own. It was cold and smooth. “Follow me.”

They walked for a few minutes, the corridors quiet despite it being lunch time. Eventually they came to a halt. “Guys,” Ed started, “This is Roy. Is it cool if he sits with us?”

There was mumbled agreement and Edward guided Roy to a wall and carefully lowered him down. Roy wanted to snap at him, to scream and shout, to grumble that he wasn't five and could take care of himself, but he didn't. He didn't want to ruin his chances of having a possible... acquaintance. There was no chair, and the floor beneath him was carpeted and itchy.

“I'm Roy Mustang.” he said.

“We know.” Someone, sat somewhere to his left, snapped.

Roy felt bile rise in his throat, his stomach exploding with a swarm of butterflies. Why did you even bother, everyone already knows, they're disgusted, you never even had a chance in the first place, you're a freak, you should just go die, burn in hell for the rest of eternity, burn just like they did when you-

“I'm Riza.” A female voice directly to his right said, snapping Roy out of his internal monologue. “Riza Hawkeye.”

“Er, nice to meet you.” He said. His sandwich had somehow ended up in his hands, and he pretended to tuck into it, grateful to have an excuse to stop talking.

He spent the rest of lunchtime in complete silence, feeling too sick to eat more than a few bites of his food. He listened to the other's conversations on meaningless subjects, listened to their careless laughter, and felt lonelier than ever before.

The next day was one of those days.

He woke with a splitting headache, Scout licking his fingers. He couldn't bring himself to get out of his bed and when Claire came up to check on him he just shook his head, curling deeper into the covers. She left him alone and he spent the day swimming in and out of darkness, earphones in, music taking him away. He saw images swimming behind his eyes, reliving the last few things they'd seen; red, fire, burning-

Maes.

He didn't know if he even went to sleep, but when he was next fully aware of himself his headache had mostly gone and an entire day had passed. He got ready for school as normal and was seen off by his foster mother and his glorious, dumb dog, the latter of whom demanding scratches before he left.

“Where were you?” Were the first words out of Edward's mouth.

“I was sick.” He told him. It was the truth.

Ed made a non-committal sound. “Did you enjoy lunch on Monday?”

Roy swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, squashing down the feeling of loneliness that threatened to build up in his chest and consume his soul. “I think it's best if I don't go back.”

“Why not?”

“Your friends clearly don't want me there.

“They didn't mind!”

“Well look at it this way; maybe I don't want to be there.”

Edward huffed angrily. “I was just extending an olive branch dude, no need to be such an asshole.”

They didn't speak for the rest of homeroom. Roy wanted to scream and shout and cry, wanted to tell Edward that he didn’t mean it, that he was sorry, beg him not to leave him alone. Instead he drifted through the day, there but not really, and was sent home by his politics teacher after lunch. His foster parents didn't let him go back to school for the rest of the week.

Chapter Text

Monday came along again, but this time Roy was ready; this was the first day Scout was accompanying him to school. She had been approved by the headteacher and she had been perfect on all the test walks, so it was finally time to start her properly working.

He got dressed with a spring in his step, even managing to eat a full slice of toast at breakfast. He petted his dog (his dog!) whilst downing an antibiotic for his most recent infection, and they slipped her harness on, ready to make the walk to school.

When they arrived, however, nerves began to creep in, settling in a pit at the bottom of his stomach. He could hear everyone around him whispering; knew they were pointing at him, judging him. Claire embraced him at the gates, told him to have a good day and called him sweetie, and then left him alone to face the crowds. He walked as fast as he could, but the whispers were right behind him, their words seeming to chase him all the way to homeroom, blurring into one vicious scream.

He somehow made it and practically collapsed into his chair, his good, amazing dog curling up under his desk next to his bag. He scratched her head absently, the feel of her soft fur under his fingertips keeping him grounded to the Earth.

“This must be Scout, right?” Edward asked minutes or hours later, scraping his chair noisily along the floor as he pulled it out. Roy just nodded. “She's so cute. Can I stroke her?”

He shook his head. “Not when she's working, sorry.”

“Nah, it's cool.”

The silence stretched between them. Roy felt like he'd somehow gone back in time to when Edward had first joined the school. He knew he shouldn't miss something that he'd never really had to begin with, but he did and it hurt.

“Look, I'm sorry for being such a prick.” Edward began, uncharacteristically quiet. “I shouldn't have snapped like that. But I talked to my friends, and they said that they'd try, alright? So, if you want to, the offers on the table.”

Roy turned to look at him, even though the action had no meaning. “You mean that?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” The bell rang. Roy impulsively scratched at his eyes. “I'll meet you after fourth again, alright?”

“Fine by me.”

“Cool, see you!” And with that, he left, leaving Roy dazed and confused in his wake.

Having a guide dog with him changed things completely, and yet changed nothing.

He still went to lessons as normal, still got teased as normal. In fact, if possible, the verbal bullying got worse; people whose voices he'd never even heard before shouting at him, calling him names. And yet, he felt powerful and strong, knowing there was something - someone - with him, to protect him (and the fact that it made it easier to get to lessons was an added bonus).

At lunch, as promised, Ed was there. They walked in silence to the 'secret eating spot', which Roy was beginning to suspect was just a random corridor. This time, when Edward announced their arrival, their greetings were much more enthusiastic.

“I heard you'd got a dog.” A voice to his left said after Roy had sat down, Scout settled diligently in front of him. “He's super cute.”

“Er, thanks, I guess.”

“I'm Jean Havoc.” The voice said, taking Roy's right hand and firmly shaking it. “Can I stroke him?”

“Her, and sure, one sec.” Roy reached for her harness. He supposed there could be no harm in letting her off duty for a few minutes.

“No, don't let that thing off the leash!” A different voice cried, this one further away than the others.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Jean laughed. “It's a guide dog, it's not gonna bite you.”

“You don't know that! And no one told me he'd gotten a dog, I didn't have time to prepare!”

Laughter echoed among the group. “Prepare, what are you, five?” A female voice said from Roy's right. He recognised the voice but couldn't for the life of him remember her name.

“It's called Cynophobia and it's a debilitating fear!”

Roy found himself chuckling along with the rest of them. “She's really friendly.” He found himself saying. “I promise she won't hurt you. She's a big softie on the inside.” He scratched her head, cooing gently.

There was silence. “Go on then.” Edward said, sounding a couple of metres away. “I've been dying to pet her since I saw her in homeroom this morning.”

Roy slipped Scout's harness off and she was immediately away. “Let me know if she tries to run off, okay?”

“Will do!” Ed called, seemingly distracted by something. “Who’s a good girl, huh?” He murmured, and Roy could hear a gentle scritching sound, along with Scout's happy panting.

“Dude, let me!” Jean shouted, and Roy heard a thump next to him, assuming it was Jean scrambling over to his dog.

“What's her name?” The female voice from earlier asked quietly. She sounded amused.

“Scout.”

“How cute.”

“So I’ve been told.” Roy said, and the girl chuckled.

“I told you last week, but I'm assuming you've forgotten. I'm Riza.” The name was familiar.

“How did you know?” He asked, and she laughed.

“I'm constantly surrounded by boys, you think I don't know the signs?”

This time Roy laughed, surprising himself. He sat for a few minutes, simply listening to the sounds of excited teenagers and happy dog.

“I should probably put her back.” He said mostly to himself. “Scout, harness!”

Seconds later she was nuzzling up to his outstretched hand and he instantly felt better. Once her harness was back on and she was back in work mode, the group fell into a comfortable silence. They ate like this for a few minutes, Roy only managing a few bites of his before feeding Scout the rest and giving her some treats. It had been easy to forget about the nerves, but now they were back, swarming in his stomach with full force.

“Dude!” Ed cried, sounding like he was halfway through chewing something. “I forgot to get everyone to introduce themselves!”

“Who's going first?” Jean asked from Roy’s left, mouth also full.

“I will, 'cause it was my idea.” Edward said, almost proudly. “Everyone needs to say their name, nickname, age, and one fun fact about themselves. Yes, Roy, that includes you.” He added before Roy could even open his mouth. He was cringing at the thought of even sharing a 'fun fact'.

“Anyway.” Ed started. “I'm Edward Elric, but everyone should call me Ed. I'm seventeen, but I'll be eighteen in a month or so and... I'm a black belt Tae Kwan Do. I have a little brother called Alphonse.”

“Dude, that was way too much.” The scared voice said. “You're gonna make me look inadequate.”

“Go clockwise.” Was all Ed said in reply.

“Vato Falman,” A new male voice said. Roy was starting to suspect Riza was the only girl in the group, “but everyone just calls me Falman. I'm eighteen, and I like to read.”

Jean scoffed quietly. “No shit.”

“Er, Kain Fuery. I don't really have a nickname.” Another voice said, softer than any of the others so far, but not nervous. “I'm seventeen, and erm... I’m in Theatre club!”

“Riza Hawkeye.” Riza said next to him, and shit, it was almost his turn. “I go by either. I'm also seventeen, and I shoot for the national youth team, so don't get on my bad side.” Roy wanted to laugh, but she sounded so serious that he didn't dare.

There was silence for a few seconds before Roy remembered it was his turn. “Shit, sorry.” He blurted. “I'm Roy Mustang, which I guess you already knew.” He laughed awkwardly. No one else did. “I'm eighteen, my birthday was in September, and... fuck...” He trailed off, rubbing Scout's head to keep him grounded. She panted happily. “I like to listen to music, I guess.” That was the most fun thing he could think of, and probably the least depressing.

“Anyway...” Jean said from beside him. “I'm Jean Havoc but call me Havoc 'cause it sounds cooler.” The group erupted in laughter, and Roy thought he heard Jean being hit by someone. “I'm seventeen and I play bass guitar.”

“Seriously?” Roy found himself saying.

“Seriously.” Havoc replied. “I'm in a shitty band and everything.”

“It's true.” Riza said. “They are incredibly shitty.”

He found himself laughing. “I'm sure that's not true.”

“Oh, it's true.” Jean told him. “We're called the Pussy Destroyers, and it's me on bass, Denny on guitar and vocals, and-"

“No one gives a shit, Havoc.” Ed deadpanned, and everyone laughed, Roy included.

“It's my turn anyway, you overstayed your welcome, asshole.” Dog Guy announced. “I'm Heymans Breda, you all can call me just Breda-”

“Alright then, Just Breda.” Falman stated, and it set everyone off laughing again.

“You guys are impossible!” Breda cried. “Anyway, Heymans is a mouthful, so there's that. I'm seventeen, and I want to be a pilot when I get out of this shithole.”

At this point Scout smacked his leg with a paw.

“I better go let her outside for a few minutes.” Roy told them, standing up and stretching, joints popping painfully. “She needs some fresh air.”

“She needs to take a shit, you mean.” Havoc said.

“Well that's one way to say it.”

“I'll come with.” Ed said. “Don't want you to get lost.”

Someone in the group wolf-whistled, and Roy felt his face flush.

“Urgh, shut it.” Ed groaned. “It's this way, Mustang.” With that, he grabbed Roy's hand and led him away.

“What do you think of them now?” Ed asked after a few minutes of walking. They'd reached the outside now and Scout was off her leash, presumably gallivanting about somewhere and doing all her bodily functions (doggily functions?).

“They're something.”

Ed laughed. “That's for sure.”

They stood in silence, the only noises a few shouts in the distance and Scout's happy barking.

“Thanks.” Roy told him. “You didn't have to.”

“It's fine.” Edward said. “I know what it's like to be treated like that.”

Roy didn't ask why, knew that if he did Edward would want a return favour. Although they were friends, he wasn't quite ready for that yet.

“It's my brother.” Ed said after a while. “We were in an accident a while back, and let's just say that he's in a wheelchair now.” His voice was quiet, and Roy had to strain to hear it.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be, it happened ages ago.” Ed sighed. “It's just that I know how he wants to be talked to, and I vowed to myself that I would treat everyone the same way.”

“I very much appreciate it.” Roy said. “Er, you're the first friend I've had in ten years.” How pathetic was that? Ed would hate him now, think he was weird, a freak-

“I'm glad.” The other said. Then paused. “Wait, shit, I didn't mean I was glad that you had no friends, I was trying to say that I was glad that I was your friend now. 'Cause you always have me, alright?”

Roy chuckled. “I get it, don't worry.”

They were quiet again. “Dude, your dog's done shitting.”

“Do you mind picking it up?” Roy asked, quiet. “I've got bags here, and I'm sorry to ask but I don't want to accidentally stick my hand in it or something.”

“Do you always manipulate your friends like this?” Ed asked, but his tone was joking, and he had already taken the bag from Roy's hand. Roy just pet Scout's soft head and wondered what he had ever done to deserve this.

“How was the first day with this one?” Izumi asked, scratching Scout's head. The dog yipped happily.

“Really good.” Roy had smiled so much his face hurt. After he and Ed had returned the conversation had flowed easily, and he even found himself inputting a point every so often. Only Riza attempted to start a conversation directly with him, but that was fine. He was just happy that he could sit with people who tolerated him enough to let him be there.

“Why was it so good?” Izumi pressed.

“Edward let me sit with his friends at lunch, and they were nice to me, I guess.” He told her. “I mean, people made comments about Scout, more than I usually get, but I didn't really mind.”

“Well I'm glad you felt good today Roy, especially after last week.”

“Thank you for suggesting that I get Scout.”

“It's no bother.” Dr Curtis said. “I'm just glad to see you so happy!”

There was silence between the two. Roy ran his hands over the now familiar velvet of the sofa, and along the soft fur of Scout's head.

“Today,” Izumi began, “We're going to talk about your best friend. You've mentioned him a few times, you two must have been very close.”

A heavy weight was suddenly crushing Roy’s chest, so heavy that he felt like he could barely breathe. “Yes.” He began, slowly.

“What was his name?”

He was quiet, gulping down a lump that formed in his throat, trying desperately to control his breathing. “Maes Hughes.”

“What was he like?”

He could do this. “He was laid back. We liked the same stuff, superheroes and football, things like that.” He gripped Scout's harness for dear life. “He had black hair and green eyes and wore glasses.” He left out the fact that those green eyes had flecks of gold in them, and that they lit up whenever Roy was around. He left out what those eyes had looked like filled with fear at the very end of everything.

“That's very good, Roy.” Izumi comforted. “Can you tell me a memory you have of Maes?”

Flames licking at his best friend’s legs, Maes screaming his name, crying out for help as he fell, down, down, down. “We were on the same under 8s football team, and some kid from the other team tackled him weirdly. He fell and broke his leg, and even though he must have been in lots of pain, all he could talk about was how cool his cast would look and trying to get people to sign it.” He remembered it so vividly -  Maes' bright grin even though Roy was in floods of tears, his eyes shining behind his huge rectangular glasses. Maes insisted that Roy got to ride in the ambulance as well, and that he be the first one to sign his cast. Roy had drawn Captain America's shield next to his name.

“He sounds like a great friend.”

“He was, yeah.” The tears wouldn't come, however much he wanted them to. He wanted to scream over the loss of his best friend, cry until his throat was sore. He instead just clenched his hands together, rubbing his right over the cracked skin on his left. Scout whined.

Luckily, Izumi seemed to get that it was a sensitive subject (she's probably read your file, knows everything about It, knows what you've done, knows that you deserve everything, deserve to burn in hell) and didn't press further.

“I want you to write a letter to yourself every day until I see you next.” She told him after a few seconds. “Don't mince words; say how you felt that day and exactly what happened.”

“I can't exactly write one, Dr Curtis.”

“I know you have a braille display Roy, don't try to get out of it.” Izumi said. His heart sank. “I see you on Thursday, that's only two letters. If you hate it that much, we'll stop after that, alright?”

He nodded. “Will you read them?”

“I have to, unfortunately. To see that you've actually done what I've asked of you.”

“I'm sorry, I thought that school ended two hours ago.” He snarked.

“Shut it.” She chuckled. “Also, I think it's time that we tried some antidepressants. I've prescribed-”

“I'm not going on meds.” Roy interrupted. “I'm on enough of them as it is.” What with semi-regular antibiotics he was already on for his eye infections and frequent painkillers he was already sick and tired of taking pills.

“I'm sorry, I'm not giving you a choice in this. You're technically a minor whilst you live under Joe and Claire's roof, and they've already said yes.” She was quiet for a second, and her tone softened slightly. “Look, just try them for a few weeks. If they don't work, you tell me immediately and we'll stop them. I just think that they'll really help you.”

He huffed. “It's not like I have a choice in the matter.”

“I'm sorry Roy, it's for your own good.”

“Whatever.” He let go of Scout’s harness and instead just let himself float away. He was aware of Doctor Curtis talking, saying something, but it was going straight over his head. Colours swirled behind his eyes; a mixture of red, orange, green and gold forming no real shape.

He was aware of a wetness on his hand, something nudging it gently.

“-oy? Roy? Are you there?”

“What? Sorry.” He shook his head, and he was back.

“What did I just say?” Izumi asked.

“I have no clue, sorry.” Roy stroked Scout's head, soothing her.

There was the sound of pen scritching on paper. “How often do you dissociate?”

“How often do I what?”

“Dissociate.” She said. “What you did just then.”

“I didn't know it had a name.” Scout licked his hand.

“What do you call it then?”

“Well,” He started, “I don't really. I just kinda let go, and float away? It's hard to explain.” He admitted. “I sometimes feel like I'm spinning, and I just hear whatever I hear, and think whatever. I see things sometimes as well.”

Izumi was quiet for a long time. “How often?”

“Er, at least once a day.” Probably more, in fact.

She was quiet again. “It's called dissociating. It's a way that people cope with a traumatic event. If it happens this often though, I think you've got a dissociative disorder.”

He sighed. Great, another disorder to add to the ever-growing list of things wrong with him.

“Don't worry.” Izumi said. “I'll think things through, and we'll talk more about it next time, okay? I'll just fill out your prescription form and then you can go.” She started writing, the only sound the pen on the paper.

“You haven't told Ed about any of this, have you?” Roy blurted.

The pen stopped. “Why would I?”

“I don't know.”

“There's such a thing as patient confidentiality, Roy.” Izumi laughed. “Your foster parents don't know what's said in these sessions. Edward doesn't even know you're seeing me.”

He sighed in relief. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

It was Roy's eleventh birthday.

He didn't expect to get any presents - hadn't had any since his eighth, where his parents had bought caterpillar cake and he'd gone to see Iron Man at the cinema with Maes, who'd bought him a Captain America action figure and-

This was his fifth foster home, each one seeming to get progressively worse than the last. They couldn't find anyone else to foster him in his home town, so after the second home he got sent an orphanage a couple of hours away, and then a different town again for the fourth foster home. He didn't mind being moved away; it meant that he had a fresh start, and it got him further away from all the bad memories. Still, sometimes he wished that he was back home. He'd never lived anywhere else before the Incident.

It didn't matter where he went. At each school he had been branded a freak, someone had made up some rumour about him, and then the bullying would start. It didn't help that at this newest school they'd decided that they didn't want to waste any money and resources on giving him specialist teaching, so had just lumped him in with the rest of the class. Now there was no escape from the others, and they were free to just shout and throw bits of paper at him all day. The teacher didn't do anything about it, if she knew.

He was awoken by the alarm screaming from across the room. This home wasn't too bad; there was only one other boy and three girls, all of whom were older and didn't really bother with him. He'd only seen the parents once, on the day he had arrived. It had been a month since then.

At school, he managed to make it to lunch without any major incident. He ran to his favourite spot (behind a tree far from the playground) and settled on the ground, taking out his Braille copy of Artemis Fowl. It had been given to him by his first Braille teacher and although by this point it was dog-eared and damaged he'd kept it safe enough.

“Happy Birthday to me.” He murmured, opening the book and starting from the beginning.

Just as he was getting to the start of the Troll fight, a voice boomed “Can I sit here?”, jolting Roy out of his stupor.

“Uh, sure.” He replied, voice horse and croaky from disuse.

There was sounds of movement, and someone sat down not far from him.

“I'm Alex.” The voice said. It was deep and unfamiliar. “Alex Armstrong.”

“Roy Mustang.” He replied quietly.

There was silence between them, and after a couple of minutes Roy decided that nothing bad was going to happen and returned to his book. He only got a couple of pages in before the voice – Alex – spoke again.

“What are you reading?”

“Ar-Artemis Fowl.” Roy stammered, holding up the cover in what he thought was Alex's direction. “It's good.” He added, surprising himself.

“Is that Braille?” Alex asked. Scared to reply, Roy nodded. “That is wonderful!”

“You don’t think I’m a freak?” He blurted, brain-to-mouth filter seemingly failing him.

Alex laughed. “I think it’s really er, cool.” He sounded as though he wasn’t used to using cool in that context.

“Oh. Thanks.”

They sat in silence for the rest of lunch break, but Roy spent the rest of the day on cloud nine. He and Alex continued to sit in the same spot together every lunch until Roy was eventually moved away, but for the first time since the fire he felt like he had made a friend.

“Hey.” Ed sounded less enthusiastic that usual, clattering around with his chair. Beneath his desk, Roy could feel Scout's tail thumping on his foot.

“You alright?”

“Fine.” The other said, scratching at something. “Just my dad being an asshole, as per.” He didn't elaborate, and Roy didn't press.

“What subjects do you do?” He asked out of the blue, changing the subject to try and distract Edward, surprising himself in the process.

“Me?” Ed asked, and Roy could imagine him pointing at himself.

“No, the other person that I talk to in homeroom.”

Ed laughed. “No need to be such a dick.” He paused. “Biology, chemistry, physics, maths and further maths, history and Spanish. You?”

“Biology, chemistry, maths, politics, Chinese and English lit.”

“This is gonna sound super rude and intrusive,” Ed began, “but are you Chinese?”

Roy shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. His hair was greasy. “Not the first time I've been asked that, and no. I'm actually half Korean, but they don't do that here, so.” He hated that he was forgetting how to speak Korean, forgetting the language that his mother used to practice with him for hours, his last true connection to her.

“Thanks. There's no decent way to ask that, you know?” Ed said awkwardly. “If it's any consolation, my grandma was Latino, not that you can tell if you look at me or Al.” He laughed bitterly.

“I wouldn't know, in all honesty.”

“You're such an asshole!” Ed crowed, lightly slapping Roy's back. “If I've known you were gonna be like this, I never would have talked to you.”

“Really?” Roy asked, trying not to come across as too pathetic.

“Of course not, Mustang. 'Twas just a joke.” He took on a terrible accent, and then laughed at himself. Roy wondered, not for the first time, what Edward looked like when he laughed.

“Listen.” Edward said after the teacher had dismissed them. “Do you want to come over to mine at the weekend? Dad's away at some conference thingy, so it's just gonna be me and Al. We could study together.” He sounded hopeful.

“I'll have to check, but it should be fine.” Claire would probably cry when she heard the news.

“Great!” Ed said happily. “Meet you after fourth period, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Roy agreed, but Edward had already gone.

He made it to politics relatively unscathed. Someone had pushed him on the way to biology, but Scout had practically forced him to get up instead of just sit pathetically for a while like he normally did, and he'd made it there on time. She had been needy since then, constantly nudging him just as he was about to drift off – dissociate, as he supposed he should probably start calling it now – demanding to be pet at least once every ten minutes. By the time politics was over he was well and truly ready for lunch, his stomach growling with hunger.

Just like he had before, Edward appeared after everyone else had left. Before Roy could even open his mouth, the teacher (Roy was really starting to regret not remembering the man's name) had agreed and Ed had dragged him out of the door.

The others were already there when they arrived (or at least he assumed they were – he thought he heard everyone's voice) and he settled in his usual spot.

“How was your evening?” Riza asked.

“Alright.” It had been this morning that was difficult – he'd taken his first antidepressant and almost broken down at the principle of the damn thing. Luckily, he'd managed to hold it together. “You?”

“I had training from five 'til nine thirty, I'm tired.” She told him. She sounded it.

“You must be very good.”

“I am.”

“Riza's the best.” Havoc said, once again on his left and with a mouth full of something.

“Damn straight.”

Mid-way through his sandwich, his phone buzzed in his pocket. “Shit, sorry.” He fished around for it, eventually retrieving both the phone and his headphones. “Don't want to annoy you.” He said as way of explanation, feeling the weight of many stares on him.

The disembodied voice from the phone announced he had a text from Claire, and he plugged his earphones in, giving a small shrug as he did. “Voiceover.” He said, trying to feign nonchalance, before he put his earphones in his ears, effectively blocking everyone else out.

'How's your day going?' The voice read in a jerky voice, 'Are the meds working? All my love.'

Roy eventually managed to type a reply, after around two minutes of double tapping keys and hearing the letters read back to him in the same annoying phone voice. 'alright I guess, too early to say about the meds. A kid in homeroom asked if I wanted to go revise at his house this weekend, is it okay if I go?'

The reply was immediate. 'Yes!!! Will talk more tonight but know that we're both so proud. We will celebrate. Have a lovely day, give Scout a pat for me.'

By the end, Roy's was probably blushing. His thoughts were confirmed when he took his earphones out and Havoc immediately asked, “Dude, you okay? You’re bright red and your eyes are all watery.”

He hadn't even realised his eyes were tearing up again. “Fine.” Roy told him. “My foster mum, she's so overbearing.” He shrugged in a 'what can you do?' way.

“Foster mom?” Breda asked.

“You got a problem with that?” Ed said. The 'asshole' went unsaid.

“Hey!” The other said indignantly. “I was just asking.”

“E-Everyone, let’s all just calm down.” Kain said quietly. Roy could relate.

“You shouldn't ask shit like that!” Ed shouted. “He has foster parents, who gives a fuck!”

“I wasn't saying anything!” Breda shot back. “I...”

At this point, Roy let himself go. He didn't give a shit that he was 'dissociating' or whatever Izumi called it; he just wanted to be out of this situation, the shouting was getting too much, he needed to get away.

He thought about what Maes would have done in this situation. What Maes would have looked like if he was alive right now. What Maes would be like, how he would act. Mostly the same, Roy presumed, same adventurous, playful personality. Same smile, dark hair, tall, taller than Roy, even now, and the most amazing eyes. The things Roy would give to see those eyes again, those green eyes with flecks of gold and brown and other indistinguishable colours, how those eyes would light up when Roy was around, what they looked like when Maes laughed, when he cried.

When he died, those eyes were lit up by the flames around him, the green stained with red and yellow and orange and more red, full of fear, tears falling from them thick and fast. They looked like that when Maes fell, the last time Roy had ever seen him, his mouth open in a scream that he didn't hear, the last words his best friend would ever say, and they were to Roy, to him, he didn't deserve that, he didn't deserve to live, he needed to die, die, die-

“Roy!”

He was back. And he couldn't breathe.

“You're having a panic attack.” A calm, orderly voice said. “Breathe with me, alright? In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four.” He tried to do as the voice said, but just mostly succeeded in just making it worse.

“What do we do?” Another voice asked frantically.

“It isn't working.”

“We'll just have to let it ride out.” The first voice said. Roy liked it, it was nice and smooth - not too squeaky but not too deep, very comforting. It felt like he was being caressed with a ribbon.

Something was licking his hand. It was wet and rough, but he concentrated on the feeling and attempted to breathe again. After a while he felt he could breathe easy, suddenly aware of everything. It was silent.

“Hello?” He asked. Scout barked.

There was a collective sigh of relief.

“We thought you were gonna die!” Havoc told him, sounding like he'd been crying.

“Never do that again.” Falman said.

“You alright?” Ed asked.

He nodded. “I am now.”

“Good.” Ed placed a gentle hand on his leg. It felt weirdly right.

“I am so sorry!” Breda cried. “It was such a stupid argument, I didn't realise that you'd react like that, I honestly don't care that you're fostered really honestly-”

“It's fine.” Roy interrupted.

“I'm sorry too.” Edward said. “It's partially my fault.” He paused. “Alright, mostly my fault”

“I already said it's fine. Don't worry.”

“We should probably get you to the nurse's office.” Riza said quietly. There was murmured agreement between the group.

“I'll take you. Can you walk?” Ed asked. He nodded in reply. Next thing he knew the hand on his leg was in his and he was being pulled to his feet. Someone handed him Scout's harness and his bag.

“Sorry again.” Breda murmured.

“Shush.” Roy told him. “It's fine, I promise. Not my first rodeo.” He tried to grin confidently and probably failed.

“C'mon.” Ed tugged at his hand.

After a few seconds of walking in comfortable silence Roy began to speak. “Thanks for helping me through that.”

“You knew that was me?” Ed asked.

“I wasn't that out of it.”

There was a pause. “I used to have them a lot. After the accident.”

“Mine are a lot less frequent now.” Roy replied. “Thank God.”

“They suck.”

“Agreed.”

They were quiet until they reached the nurse's office. She took one look at Roy and immediately called home, telling them to come pick him up.

“See you tomorrow?” Were Ed's parting words. He sounded subdued.

“Of course.” Roy told him.

When he got home, he sat down at his desk and attempted his first letter to himself.

'Dear me.' He began, then paused, hands hovering over the keys. He assumed it wouldn't hurt to try and take this seriously.

'Today was bad. Not the worst day I've had, but bad. Had my first antidepressant. It certainly didn't help today, but who knows? Maybe they just take time. I sat with Edward and his friends again at lunch. They started shouting and I dissosiated (is that how you spell it?) pretty badly. I still don't know how long I was out for. When I came back I immediately had a panic attack because of what I was thinking about whilst dissociating... I haven't had a panic attack in a while so it's a bit disappointing to have one, and such a major one at that. I couldn't breathe. Edward helped me out of it though, kept telling me how to breathe and such. He also told me he'd had them before as well, so maybe I'm not alone in this.

Probably just going to lie in bed for the rest of the day. I need to re-read 'The Crucible' for English Lit, so I might do that. Scout's here, I still can't get over how soft she is. She's the best.

Oh, I forgot. Edward invited me over to his house on Saturday to revise. Does that count as an achievement? I'm thinking yes. I get to meet his brother as well. Hopefully I won't mess this up.

He didn't bother to sign his name, instead just printing it and putting it into a folder. The letter wasn't in Braille, so he'd just have to assume it came out okay.

He grabbed his copy of 'The Crucible' and relaxed back onto his bed, Scout curling up by his side. He ran his fingers over the rough page and took in Miller's dialogue and scene-setting, running through annotations in his head.

Roy didn't know how much time had passed when Claire brought him downstairs for dinner. He'd completely forgotten about texting her this morning until Joe spoke.

“We're ordering pizza tonight as celebration. What do you want?”

“Er-” He stammered. “Meat feast?”

“Excellent choice.” His foster father said, walking away to presumably call the local place.

“Let's pop the champagne!” Claire cried, ruffling Roy's hair. “Tonight, it’s all about you.” She told him. “We're so happy for you!”

He could feel himself flushing under their attention. “It's not that big of a deal.”

“We know how hard it's been for you.” His foster mother said. “We're just glad to see you so happy.”

Roy had nothing to say to that. He let Claire guide him onto the sofa, listened as she opened a bottle of something and poured out glasses.

“To Roy!” She cheered. Roy suspected that this wasn't her first glass of the night.

“To Roy.” Joe echoed. Roy just downed his glass of fizzy something-or-other and let himself get swept up in their happiness.

Chapter Text

The next few days passed quickly; the lessons all seemed to blur into one, and at lunch time everyone had been subdued. Roy kept mostly to himself and didn't add anything to the conversation, feeling too nervous to speak up or even really eat anything. He'd written another letter to himself, and decided it wasn't the worst thing he'd ever had to do, so Dr. Curtis had told him to keep a diary (which thankfully she wouldn't be reading). Roy hated to admit that it was quite therapeutic to pour out all his feelings instead of keeping them inside. He wasn't sure if it was the antidepressants or just his new routine, but he had been feeling better recently. Not cloud nine happy, but not I-want-to-die bad either. He mostly just felt numb.

Saturday came around, and Roy felt like he was on the verge of another panic attack; the butterflies swarming uncontrollably in his stomach and it was a struggle to keep his breathing under control. Edward had texted him his address earlier in the week, and he'd agreed to come around for around one o clock and stay for dinner. At this point, he wasn't sure if he would even last half an hour.

At one on the dot he knocked on the door. It was almost immediately flung open.

“Hey!” Ed greeted, sounding just as nervous as Roy felt.

“You look after him now, Mr Elric.” Joe said warningly, and Roy felt like rolling his eyes.

“Don't worry Sir, he'll be fine.” Ed said, seemingly undeterred by Joe's performance. “Need a hand?” He asked, and Roy shook his head.

“I'll be back here for nine thirty.” His foster dad said, and patted Roy lightly on the back before leaving.

Edward led him into the living room, taking Roy's books from him and dumping them unceremoniously all over the floor (certainly if the noise was anything to go by).

“Before we start,” Ed began, “I want you to meet Al.”

 Roy just nodded, unsure of what to say.

“I want to meet the famous Roy as well.” A new voice said - like Ed's, although slightly younger-sounding - accompanied by the quiet squeaking of wheels. “I'm Alphonse.”

“Nice to finally meet you.” Roy said, holding out his hand. It was taken and shaken firmly.

“I've heard a lot about you.” Alphonse told him. Roy didn't have to be able to see to know that he was smirking.

Roy tried to return it. “All good things, I hope.”

“Don't worry.” Was all Alphonse said. “This must be your dog!” He exclaimed, noticing Scout only now. “Hello!” He cooed, petting her if his dog's happy noises were anything to go by. “Not as cute as cats, but still pretty cute.” He said to no one in particular.

“Ugh.” Ed groaned from somewhere across the room. “You're not getting a damn cat Al. Or a dog.” He added. “Dad would throw a fit.” Alphonse let out a sigh, but it sounded good-natured, and Roy knew that they'd had this discussion many times.

Roy felt behind him for a sofa and sat down, Scout planting herself firmly on his feet. The quiet was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

“Where do you go to school, Alphonse?” Roy asked, trying to attempt a conversation.

“Father Leto's. It's only half an hour out of town, so it's not too bad.” Roy had heard of it; how could he have not heard of the best disability-friendly school in the county? He'd considered it many times, read about the specialist facilities and one-to-one care more times than he could count. On particularly bad days, he imagined he went there. It would only ever be a dream – the fees were extortionate without a scholarship which Roy knew he would never get, and he couldn't ask any of his foster families to pay that much money.

“Sounds amazing.” Was all he said.

“Al's amazing.” Ed told him. “He's president of the DAA despite being a junior and is on the basketball team as well as scholastic decathlon.” He sounded proud.

“Shut up Ed.” Alphonse said, clearly embarrassed. “It's not that impressive.”

“You shut up.” Ed retorted. All Roy could do was listen to them banter and squash the lonely feelings that bubbled and boiled in his stomach.

“Shall we start?” He weakly suggested.

The silence was overwhelming. “Yeah, go away now Al.” Edward eventually said. “The big boys have work to do.”

“He doesn't have to go.” Said Roy, suddenly feeling guilty.

“Yes, he does.”

“I'm only a year younger than you, brother, and you know that I'm taking-”

“Al, just go.”

Alphonse was silent for a while. “Oh. I see.” He was smirking again, Roy just knew it. “I'll just leave you and your friend in peace.” And he did, accompanied by the sounds of the wheels moving across the wooden floor.

“So, that's Al.”

“I can certainly tell you're related.”

That set Ed off laughing, and he collapsed onto the sofa, arm draped casually around Roy's shoulders. “You're a riot, Mustang.”

There was silence, but for once, it was comfortable; he found he didn’t mind just sitting there with Edward’s arm ever-so-slightly resting on the back of his neck, even though just that small amount of contact was sending shivers down his spine.

“Before we start, can I ask you something?” Roy asked.

“Shoot.”

“What do you look like?” Roy had spent countless nights trying to imagine it, but nothing that he had come up with had seemed right. He needed to know.

Ed sharply inhaled next to him, quickly withdrawing his arm. “Shit, er...” He trailed off. “This is hard.”

“It's fine if you don't want to, I was just wondering, it doesn't really matter-”

“Shut it, Mustang. I want to.” Ed was quiet for a moment. “I'm skinny, and, er, vertically challenged.” He coughed, and Roy could feel the fabric of the sofa shift underneath him as Ed clenched it in his fists. “My hair's long, but I normally braid it, and it's blond. My nose is thin? I'm the spitting image of my dad, not that that helps you at all.” He paused awkwardly. “Oh! My eyes are like a golden, sorta amber colour. They're cool, I guess.”

Roy could see it all in his mind’s eye, and it was more perfect than he ever could have imagined. “Can I... see?”

“What do you mean by that?” Edward asked, laughing. “Might be a bit hard.”

“Er, canItouchyourface?” He blurted.

“What?”

“Can I touch your face?” Roy repeated, forcing himself to enunciate each word. He knew he was bright red and wrung his hands together, seeking comfort.

Ed was silent again, and Roy knew he'd messed up.

“Go for it.” The other said eventually, voice quiet.

Roy timidly stretched out his right hand, not quite sure where Edward was or what to do. Suddenly, a cool hand grasped his wrist and pulled his hand up to rest it on equally cool skin.

"You're hopeless." Edward muttered, although Roy knew it was said jokingly.

He didn't reply, simply running his hand along Ed's chin. It was smooth and hard, and he could tell that it was angular. He brushed his fingers over Ed's nose (it was thin, but not overly long), and swept them across his forehead. There were no spots or lumps or dryness - just smooth, cool skin.

“You have no idea how awkward this is.” Edward said, laughing uncomfortably.

“Sorry.” Roy apologised, simply moving his hand down and letting it settle on his lips. They were damp, like Ed had recently licked them, and slightly chapped. Roy wondered what they would feel like on his.

Suddenly, the feel of Edward's cool skin felt like fire. He quickly withdrew his hand. “Sorry.” He repeated.

“It's fine.” Was all Ed said, voice quiet.

They sat like that for a while, the silence awkward and seeming to crawl over Roy’s skin, up into his mouth, crushing his chest-

Ed coughed. “So... covalent bonds, am I right?”

Just like that, the previous tension was gone, replaced by laughter and the all-encompassing feeling of joy. Roy laughed so hard he started to cry, his tear ducts jumping at the chance to do what they did best.

They began to study, and it only got easier from there. Edward was brilliantly smart, and seemed to know everything, putting Roy (who hadn't tried hard in school for around ten years) to shame.

It wasn't that he didn't like school, in fact, it used to be the complete opposite - he used to love school, love learning, love the feeling when he got full marks on a test (which used to happen fairly often). However, after the fire he just didn't care anymore. He knew that he'd never be able to get a job with his (cringe) disability, his bad days and his scars. So, he realised early on there was no point to school anymore, and simply gave up. With Ed though, Roy found himself beginning to believe that there was a point, felt himself fall in love with learning all over again. It was dangerous territory and he knew it, but he couldn't help himself; Ed was just so damn enthusiastic about things, especially Chemistry, which he realised early on was Edward's favourite subject.

“So then, you just input your values for delta S and delta H into the rearranged equation and voila! You have the temperature at which the reaction becomes feasible.” Ed finished, thumping onto the sofa. Roy quickly finished typing up his notes and put the finished product into his Chemistry folder.

“Thanks.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I never got Gibbs' Free Energy and all that crap.”

“Dude, don't talk shit on Gibbs. Not only did he revolutionise chemical thermodynamics, he founded statistical mechanics and was responsible for vector calculus techniques still used today.”

“I don't want to know how you know all that.”

“Neither do I.” Ed scratched something. Scout jumped onto Roy's lap and he happily rubbed her head, knowing she must be feeling left out. She hadn't been cuddled in around two hours.

“It's around five.” Edward said. “Wanna order food? We're getting Indian, hope you like it.”

“That's fine by me.” Roy replied. “I'll have whatever you're having.”

“You sure you're up to the task?” Ed teased, standing up if the groaning was anything to go by. “I like things hot.”

“You think I can't handle a bit of spice?” He gestured to himself. Ed laughed.

“That's fair. But you've had your warning.” Ed left, Roy vaguely hearing him call for Alphonse. He scratched Scout's head and she let out a quiet bark.

“You don't have to eat Indian food.” Roy told her seriously. “I have special dog food for you.” The dog yipped in response and he grinned, ruffling her fur.

The three of them ate together on the living room floor, watching Aladdin as it was one of the only movies the Elric's had with audio descriptions. Ed and Alphonse sang along to all the songs, not even stopping to chew in Ed's case. Roy just laughed at their antics, not even realising he'd finished his plate of food for the first time in years until Alphonse commented on it. Afterwards, he and Edward tested each other on Biology until Roy was picked up by Joe. He left with a full stomach and the biggest grin on his face, feeling more content than he had done in a long time.

Roy was thirteen and about to meet his new foster mother.

He really couldn’t care less at this point. He’d lost count of the number homes he’d been in, all of them beginning to blur into one - at each he was mostly ignored, with the occasional stint of bullying. At this point, it had mostly become routine, one that he would follow for the rest of his life.

He didn’t even know what part of the country he was in.

The car door was opened, and an unfamiliar hand helped him out of the car. He still didn’t have a cane, so he had to be escorted to the front door, a fact which he was not proud of. He was thirteen years old, not a child.

The door was opened, and a rough, crooked voice spoke. “Come in, come in.”

Roy was lead inside and sat down on an overly plush velvet sofa. The room smelt of heavily scented perfume. “I’m Madame Christmas, but you can just call me Aunty Chris, alright?” The same voice said. “Or just Chris, if you prefer that. You’re going to be living with me from now on.”
Roy just nodded, zoning out for a bit. The next thing he was aware of was being shaken slightly.

“The suit’s gone. It’s just us now.” Chris said. “I’ll show you to your room, and then we’ll get some food.”

She took his hand and guided him up the stairs, and Roy found that he didn’t mind being mollycoddled by her. It was suspiciously quiet, and he found himself blurting, “Where is everyone else?”

Chris stopped walking. “Where is who?”

“The other foster kids.”

Roy got the sense that Chris was looking at him like he was stupid. “It’s just us two here. Weren’t you listening?” He shook his head no, and Chris sighed. “You’re not my first foster kid, but my only one right now. Your room’s here.” She said, changing the subject. “I’ll give you some time to figure it all out.” She practically shoved him into the room, then paused. “I’m downstairs if you need me.”

She closed the door behind him. Roy reluctantly began feeling his way around the room - hands first, seeing as he didn’t have a cane. It was relatively small – a single bed taking up most of one wall with a bedside table next to it, a wardrobe and desk taking up the other wall, with a gap of around two metres between the two walls. He didn’t have much to unpack, just some clothes and books, so when he was finished he just sat on the bed, waiting to be let out.

Chris returned after a while, rapping out a short knock on the door before entering. “I’m going to order food soon.” She paused. “Unpacked already?”

“Don’t really have a lot.”

“That’s going to change. Come on.” She tugged on his arm and led him downstairs before he could really ponder that statement. Next thing he knew, he was back on the plush sofa.

“Seeing as you don’t seem to have a cane, we’ll get you one of those.” Roy began to protest, but she cut him off. “Don’t you want independence, child?” That shut him up quickly. “We’re going shopping tomorrow – you look like you need some new clothes and other things.”

“But why?” He asked. The feeling that Chris was giving him an ‘idiot’ look was back.

“Because you’re a child, and I’m your carer. Now, I’m ordering Chinese food.” Roy heard her footsteps leave the room and wondered what he’d got himself into.

On Sunday, he went to his session with Izumi. She asked him all the regular questions; how had his week been, had anything exciting happened, how was he finding his meds and writing the diary. However, in this session she finally told him the complete list of Things-Roy-Has-Been-Diagnosed-With™ (typed both normally and in Braille – Izumi was incredible) and it was much longer than he would have liked. Social and General Anxiety Disorder, Depression, PTSD and Derealisation Disorder; five disorders too many. He couldn’t stop reading the words, repeatedly running his hands over the paper. He wondered if his parents would be proud of him.

Claire and Joe had decided to wait for him in the car (a big step, apparently), so he stepped into the waiting room alone except for Scout. He'd almost made it when he heard an all-too-familiar voice calling his name.

“Roy?”

He froze, hand on the door handle. Roy turned towards the voice and heard footsteps coming towards him.

“What are you doing here?” Ed asked.

This was his worst nightmare come true. Now, Edward would know he was crazy, he would know how messed up Roy was, and he would never want to talk to him again. Roy would be all alone, which was probably for the best because he always screwed everything up eventually, and-

“Roy?” Ed asked again, quietly.

“What do you think I'm doing here?” He snapped.

“Well sorry.” Ed retorted, dragging out the word in a sarcastic sing-song. Scout yipped.

Roy just huffed, feigning nonchalance despite the fact his world was crumbling around him. “I could ask the same question of you. What are you doing here, Edward?” He said, aggression giving his words a sarcastic bite. The other inhaled sharply, and was about to reply when-

“Edward Elric?” The secretary called.

Ed stomped his foot once on the floor, then sighed.

“Whatever.” He muttered. “You dropped this, asshole.” He shoved a crumpled piece of paper into Roy's open hand and stormed off.

It wasn't until Roy was inside the car when he realised what it was he'd dropped. His blood ran cold and he clutched the paper listing his disorders, knowing that Ed had seen everything.

He dreaded school and spent the night drifting in and out of consciousness, jolting awake from nightmares every time he fell asleep. He dragged himself through his morning routine, glad for an antidepressant for once.

Ed arrived at homeroom at the last possible minute, crashing into his seat just as the bell rang. He was silent whilst the teacher took the register, and only spoke once homeroom was officially over.

“Look, can we talk at lunch?” Ed asked. “Just the two of us.”

Roy shrugged. The other just replied, “See you then.” and left.

Lunch came all too soon and not fast enough. Roy drifted through lessons, and the next thing he knew Edward was calling his name and dragging him out of the classroom. “We're going to an even more secret lunch spot.” He told Roy, who once again just shrugged.

The lunch spot in question was outside, and Roy could feel the cool November air nipping at his face - Winter was well on its way.  He pulled his coat closer around him as Ed settled them down on a bench, Scout at his feet. They were quiet for a while, the only sounds the birds twittering and the cars driving by on the nearby road.

“I wanted to apologise, again.” Ed began. “I overstepped, and I'm sorry.”

“It's fine.” Roy replied, finding himself meaning it.

“I thought about it, and decided I wanted to come clean with you.” Edward continued. “About everything. You don't have to tell me all about you, but I want to know at least a little in return, if that’s okay. It’s only equivalent.” Roy clenched his fists, recognising the phrase from his first conversation with Izumi. He wondered if that was whom he'd gotten it from.

Ed sighed and clutched a bit of Roy's coat in his hand. “I’m seeing Izumi because I'm depressed, and I have survivor's guilt.” He admitted. “You remember the accident Al had, the reason he's in a wheelchair?” He asked, Roy nodded his agreement. “That was my fault.”

Ed was silent for a long time. Roy moved his left hand to Ed's right, squeezing it in solidarity. Edward sniffed once, gulped, then continued. “When I was seven, my mom died. My dad had left us a long time ago, so she was the only family we had. She had to overwork to pay the bills, and when she got sick she didn't recover.” Ed's grip on his hand was painful. “We lived with our neighbours - the Rockbells - for a while, but then Mr and Mrs Rockbell, they were army doctors, and they were killed in the line of duty. That meant Granny had to look after Winry – their daughter – as well as Al and me. She was an old lady, and it'd kill her too. So, I decided we needed to bring mom back.

It was such a stupid idea. Our dad used to be a scholar, so he had all these old-timey books on alchemy and stuff. I'd read in one of them about the ability to bring people back to life and decided that was what we needed to do. Al wasn't sure about it, but I managed to convince him it was possible. The book said we needed various ingredients, so one night after Granny had gone to bed, we went to get them.

It was raining, and we were kids - we didn't know the market would be closed that late or anything like that. I was so determined, so sure that everything would work out, that I dragged Al into the road, and-” He stopped suddenly, letting go of Roy's hand. Roy could hear him shifting next to him, sniffing quietly. “We were hit.” Ed continued, voice thick and heavy. “It hit us head on, so hard that my arm was yanked out of its socket. The car ran us over, and it just kept going.” He swallowed forcefully. “I can still hear Al’s scream.” Ed was squeezing his hand so tight, Roy thought that it might break. “Someone found us eventually and took us to the hospital. Al was in a coma for a month, and when he woke up they had to tell him that he'd never walk again. My arm and leg were broken so badly that bone had pierced the skin, and they had to be amputated.” Edward laughed, but it was bitter. “And it’s all my fault.”

Roy said nothing, simply reaching his arms around Ed's body and pulling him close. He didn't tell him that he was sorry, or that it wasn't his fault -  he'd be a hypocrite if he said that. Instead he rubbed small circles into Ed's back, and listened as Scout was repeatedly stroked. Eventually, Ed pulled away, patted Roy's arm a few times, then sighed. “The Rockbells made prosthetics - they made me my arm and leg, and they even made Al’s wheelchair. Yeah, this bad boy?” He lightly tapped Roy’s shoulder with his right hand. “Pure carbon fibre.” He exhaled, then seemed to compose himself. “I took up Tae Kwan Do as physical therapy. Dad came back last summer and moved us here. My old instructor recommended Izumi, and here we are. You're up to speed on the tragic life of Edward.” He playfully punched Roy’s shoulder. “Your turn, asshole.”

They were quiet again, Roy pondering everything he had just heard and what he was going to say. He couldn't tell Ed everything – at least, not yet – but he had to say something after Ed had just bared his soul to him. He took a gulp of his water.

“When I was eight, my, er, parents and best friend died. In a- an accident. The same accident made me blind.” He gestured to his face. “I was passed from orphanage to foster home and back again, until my current family took me in. You remember when I was in the hospital a few weeks back?” He asked, Ed replying with a quiet 'yeah'. “I had a massive argument with my foster parents because they wanted me to go to therapy and I tripped over a chair.” He laughed, rubbing the small scar on his forehead that had resulted from that incident. “They won in the end, and I got sent to Izumi.” He snapped his mouth closed before he could mention details like the events surrounding their deaths, or just what had happened in those many years before Joe and Claire.  “There you go.”

“Shit, dude.” Ed said. “I think we both need some pity ice cream.”

Roy laughed, the tension between them shattering. “I'm down for that.”

“Tomorrow after school?” Ed asked, strangely subdued.

“Sure.”

Silence descended over them again like a fine mist. Roy gently stroked Scout's head, listening to Edward's quiet breathing.

“Oh, come here.” Edward sighed, pulling Roy into a tight hug. He smelt like oil and the forest and home.

Roy forced himself to pull away after a few minutes before he got too comfortable, physically shifting himself a few inches away so that he didn't get used to the feeling of Ed beside him. He feared it might already be too late.

“I'm sorry,” Ed began, and Roy's blood ran cold, “but I read the paper Izumi gave you. It was stupid and insensitive of me, and if it's any consolation I'm really fucking sorry.”

“No, it's fine, really.” Roy said, trying to convince Ed and himself. “At least we both know how fucked up each other is, right?” He tried to smile.

“We are the most fucked up pair.” Edward said good-naturedly. “We should have a secret club or something.”

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He replied, and Ed burst into a fit of giggles. “I'm being serious!” He cried, which just seemed to make Ed laugh harder.

“You sounded so seductive!” Ed said between wheezes.

“Really? Me? Are you sure you're not mistaken?”

This just made Edward laugh again, and Roy found himself joining in.

“Do you want to study again at the weekend?” Ed asked as the bell rang. He clasped Roy's hand in his and pulled him to his feet.

Roy nodded his agreement, reaching for his bag and Scout's harness. “Do you want to do it at mine this time?” He found himself asking.

“Of course, my friend.” The other replied, swinging his arm around Roy's shoulder. “Same time on Saturday?”

“Fine by me.” He was sure that Claire and Joe wouldn't mind, in fact, they'd probably be over the god-damn moon.

“And I'm gonna hold you to that ice-cream.”

“How could I forget?”

Roy spent the rest of the day with a massive grin on his face – not even getting 'accidentally' hit in the face with an out of control volleyball in gym could bring him down. He walked with a spring in his step all the way home, for once eating all the food given to him and completing the homework he’d been given that day.

In bed that night he thought about Edward, about his voice, his laugh, the way his hand had felt in Roy's. His heart burst with some unknown emotion, something he hadn't felt since Maes was alive. For the first time, he wished for his sight back; he wanted to see Edward in all his glory, he wanted to see what his face looked like when he laughed that oh-so-beautiful laugh, what he looked like with Al, what he looked like when he looked at Roy. He imagined Ed wanting to be his friend forever, Ed loving him, Ed kissing him and-

His thoughts screeched to a halt, and he found himself suddenly aware of his dick straining against his pyjama bottoms. He knew what that meant of course - he wasn't that out of it - but it had only happened to him a couple of times before, and he’d never done anything about it. It always felt like he would be spitting on Maes’ memory if he did anything.

Roy buried his face in his pillow and sighed, letting his hand drift down. He tried desperately not to think of Ed as he did so but failed miserably as soon as his hand made contact. He imagined it was Ed's instead of his own, the cold carbon fibre hand that he could feel through the gloves moving and working. He thought about Edward saying his name, telling him that he was perfect, needed, that it wasn't his fault, that Ed was going to make him feel good. And it did feel good, so so good, better than anything. Using his right hand instead of his left he swirled his fingers around, experimenting in a way he’d never done before.

'I love you.' said Imaginary Edward, and Roy bucked his hips into the mattress, coming with a moan into his pillow that sounded suspiciously like his only friend's name. It was only after he came down from his post-orgasm bliss that he realised just what he had done. His cheeks aflame, he scrambled around for some tissues and attempted to clean up, rubbing them everywhere so that he didn't accidentally miss any.

'I was just getting my thoughts confused.' He rationalised, scrubbing frantically at his sheets. 'It's just because he's my first friend since Maes, and I'm a hormonal teenager so my body just got confused. That's all there is to it.'

He wasn't gay. He couldn't be gay. He couldn't let them have something else on him, something to make him even more of a freak of nature. He'd never had a crush on a guy in his life. Then again, he'd also never had a crush on a girl...

Roy banged his head against the headboard, making Scout whine from outside and scratch at the door. He let her in with a sigh and she immediately curled up next to him when he lay back down. He cuddled her, deciding that he didn't need anyone to love him when he had a dog that would unconditionally love him forever.

'I'll just ignore it.' He decided. 'Forget anything ever happened. No one needs to know.'

It was as easy as that.

Chapter Text

The next day when Ed sat down in homeroom, cheerfully greeting him like usual, Roy realised that it would not be that easy after all. He couldn't get the thought of last night out of his head. His dick rocketed to life, and he knew that his cheeks immediately went bright red.

“We still on for ice-cream tonight?” Ed asked. Without warning, a vision of Ed licking ice-cream off his face appeared in his mind; Ed looking up at him from underneath eyelashes, nibbling his lips until they were red and swollen, moving his mouth down, down-

“U-uh, y-yeah, sure.” He stammered.

“You okay?” Ed asked, touching Roy's cheek with his gloved hand, “You're bright red.”

Roy wanted to spontaneously combust. “Yeah, j-just didn't get a lot of sleep.”

“Whatever you say.”

He spent the rest of homeroom trying to get it to go away, and in the end discovered that thinking about your family dying was a real boner killer.

At lunch Roy was back with Ed's crowd. He mostly talked to Riza about her shooting competitions, finding it a great distraction from the fact that Edward was sitting next to him. It was difficult – their shoulders kept bumping and Ed tried many times to start a conversation, but he gave one-word answers. He would not allow it to happen here; not surrounded by acquaintances, people who he still didn't quite trust.

“What do you have last?” Ed asked during a lull in his and Riza's conversation.

“English lit. E7.”

“I'll pick you up, yeah?” The other patted his shoulder. “I know there's an ice-cream place just around the corner.”

Roy knew of it but had never been himself. He had never had anyone to go with. “Cool.”

“You sure you're not ill? You're being more monosyllabic than normal.”

“I told you, I didn't sleep well.” That much was true.

“As long as you're not going to give me any germs.” Ed replied.

“You sure you don't want that?” Havoc called from across the room.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Ed yelled back, and Roy allowed himself to fade into the background as the group dissolved into yet another argument. He'd learnt by this point that most of their arguments were playful, but it still stressed him out to hear so much shouting. He'd had enough arguing for one lifetime.

True to his word, Ed showed up after English. They walked to the ice-cream shop in good spirits, Roy managing to get over his feelings and nervously ramble non-stop about 7The Crucible the whole way there.

“So really, the whole thing is a metaphor for the McCarthy trials in the 50s, because Miller was critical of the system at the time.” He finished.

“Dude, you're so sexy when you talk about literature.” Ed replied.

Roy did a double take, stumbling over an uneven paving stone. “W-wha-”

“Relax, I was just joking.” Edward laughed. “Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm not a fucking fag.”

His blood froze in his veins. “Oh, okay.”

“You should see the look on your face, absolutely priceless. Hey, we're here!” Ed said, deftly changing the subject and grabbing Roy's hand, dragging him through a door.

He ordered something at random, completely out of it whilst Ed chatted amiably to the girl behind the counter. Roy couldn't get that sentence out of his head. It filled him with a sense of dread that he didn't understand because he wasn't gay.

Ed guided him to an outside table to allow Scout to sit with them. “To having shitty childhoods!” He declared. Roy quietly echoed the call and took a lick of his ice-cream. He'd subconsciously ordered caramel with chocolate sprinkles – Maes' favourite flavour. It tasted a little more bittersweet after he realised that.

“Have you had the Chemistry test yet?” Ed asked amid licks.

Roy shook his head. “Have you?”

“Yeah, it's the worst.” Ed said. “I'm pretty sure Kimblee hates my guts as well.”

“Why?” He asked.

“I don't know? Well actually, maybe it was because I corrected him in my first lesson, but still, he's bore that grudge for a long time.” The other rambled. “I thought he'd be over it by now.”

“I see.”

“No, you don't.” Ed shot back, then slapped something, probably his mouth with the muffled way he said “Shit, sorry.” He sounded so shocked that Roy couldn't help bursting into laughter.

“I needed that, thanks.” He said truthfully, wiping at his eyes, which had dutifully begun to water.

“You're welcome.” Ed replied, and he was still laughing but he sounded so sincere and it was beautiful.

Shit. He was gay.

Once Roy realised he was gay, he did everything in his power to deny it. Unfortunately, he wasn't very good at it.

He started showering daily, using the time to privately jerk off to the thought of Ed. He'd experimented a bit more and seemed to have a technique that he liked and worked quickly. Whilst he did, he tried to forget that it was Edward who he was thinking of but failed miserably. He couldn't help but think of him; perfect, beautiful Ed who was also unattainable and homophobic. Reminding himself of that fact didn't seem to help, and he found what little self-esteem he had built up over the past few weeks crumbling away. He became grateful for his antidepressants, which was something he never thought he would say.

Edward became his entire world, both the high and low points of the day. He relished being in Ed's presence; whenever Ed was around the bullies didn't dare touch him, and Ed treated him like he was human, like he they were friends. On the other hand, Ed was a reminder of everything that he couldn't have and couldn't be. Ed trusted him, and he was breaking that trust daily. Just thinking about it filled him with shame.

“It's okay, you know.” Riza said. They were walking to Chinese, the only class that Roy shared with any of their group.

“What's okay?” He asked.

“That you're gay.”

Roy tried to splutter some sort of excuse but Riza immediately shut him down. “I've seen the way you, sorry, look at Ed, so don't lie to me. It's so obvious, the only one that can't see it is Ed himself.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I won't deny it.”

“I told you, it's fine.” She said. “No one gives a shit. Besides, I'm a lesbian.”

This had Roy choking on air. “Are you sure?” He asked when he finally regained control of his breathing.

“That I'm a lesbian? Yes.”

“That's not what I mean, and you know it.”

“What makes you not sure?”

“Ed said, and I quote, 'I'm not a fucking fag.' Pretty sure that's not a term of endearment.” Scout whined, and he scratched her back.

“Oh Roy.” Riza was quiet now, tone apologetic. “I didn't know.”

“Of course, you didn't.” He sighed. They were quiet as they got settled at their desk.

“I accept you.” Riza said quietly. “The others will accept you. Just so you know.”

“Pretty sure they barely put up with me as it is.” Roy muttered darkly. Before Riza could reply the teacher started the lesson, and he was grateful that the conversation was over.

“You seem to have hit a wall.” Izumi commented at their session on Friday.

“No shit.” He murmured.

“What's brought this on?” Izumi asked. Roy told her a highly edited version of the week’s events. He'd learnt quickly that it was better to just tell her what she wanted.

Dr. Curtis was quiet, taking notes on her ever-present paper. “So, it's sharing your past with Edward that has you upset.”

Roy shook his head. “Bit more complicated than that.”

“You know you can tell me anything, Roy.” Izumi put a hand on his knee.

“I just-” He started. “I'm scared that no one will accept me when I tell them the truth.” That much was true, in more ways than one.

Izumi rubbed small circles into his leg. “Roy, if they don't accept you then they're not worth knowing, okay? Trust me.”

He didn't reply.

Izumi sighed. “If you feel up to it, we'll talk a bit more about your past okay?” He didn't have the energy to say no. “Can you tell me about that day?”

He didn't need her to specify. “It was almost Christmas, the 23^rd. Maes came over for a sleepover. We watched Transformers and ate salted popcorn.” He kept his answers short and robotic.

“You're doing well.” Izumi told him.

“M-my parents tucked us into bed, my Dad said that he'd take us to play football tomorrow. My Mum said ‘사랑하는 아들’, it means 'b-beloved son'. She a-always used to call me that, and my Dad would try and copy her, but his pronunciation was terrible.” They used to talk in Korean for hours, and his Dad used to pretend that he was annoyed that he couldn't understand. Roy had felt so special, Korean was just for him and his 엄마. “They left a-and then...” He trailed off, eyes furiously watering. “I can't.”

“That's fine. You've done brilliantly.” In this moment, she reminded him so much of his mother that he almost burst into tears. “I'm glad that you're finally starting to open up.”

Roy just shrugged, not sure of how to reply. He pressed down on his eyes to stop the tears.

“How are you finding your meds?” Dr. Curtis asked, moving away from him, presumably to the other end of the sofa.

“They help.” As much as he hated to admit it, it was true – the emotions he now felt were watered down and less extreme.

“And your diary?”

“Good.” He wrote every day. It wasn't exactly a diary -  more like a ring binder with sheets of loose-leaf paper he'd typed on.

“You seem to really be trying, Roy.” Izumi said. “Once you get past this bump in the road we'll be back on track.”

He shrugged again. Izumi dismissed him after that, and he was glad of the excuse to go home and cry. And then jerk off.

He settled into life with Chris fairly quickly. True to her word, she had taken him shopping, and he had gotten new clothes, a couple of books and, best of all, a cane. He loved his new independence – the fact that he could walk around the house without either being guided or fumbling around with his hands outstretched was something that he took advantage of as often as he could. He soon got used to the musky smell of the house and, although school was the same as ever, he could always rely on Chris watching TV with a cup of tea on that velvet sofa when he got back.

One thing that Roy never really got used to, however, were the girls that were constantly coming and going from the house. Chris owned a bar a couple of streets away which she often took him to on an evening, and all the girls were apparently her employees. Roy called bullshit – not on the girls being her workers, but the exact nature of their job. He knew a few of them well – Lucy and Hannah would come and chat whenever they had a break, Rose would sometimes help him with homework and India would tell him stories (very much PG, under Chris’ watchful eye that Roy could feel burning into his back). However, he never said anything to Chris about it, as he too had secrets that he was keeping.

The girls had a habit of walking into the house unannounced. Chris didn’t seem to mind, and Roy wasn’t in a position to complain about it. They never stayed long, only for a couple of hours at most, but it began to get on his nerves after a while. It wasn’t that they weren’t nice, far from it, they just treated him more like an invalid than he liked. He was thirteen, almost fourteen, for God’s sake – he was practically an adult! More often than not, he retreated to his room as soon as they arrived and didn’t come out until they left.

Roy was beginning to feel comfortable. And it scared him – the fact that he didn’t have to constantly be on edge, the fact that Chris said that he could talk to her whenever he wanted; these were things that he wasn’t used to. And sure, school was not the greatest, but at Chris’ house he almost felt safe.

His fourteenth birthday came, and they threw him a party at the bar. The girls gave him Braille books and sweets, and Chris gave him-

“An iPod.” Roy gasped. “And its mine?”

“Unless you don’t want it.” Chris replied, and Roy could hear her smirk.

“No, I do.” He clutched it close to his chest. Chris and the girls laughed.

“I got my boyfriend to set it up for you.” Rose said. “He said that it talks to you, so you can tell what you’re doing. He put some music on there already, but his taste is pretty questionable, so-“

“I love it!” He interrupted, smiling slightly. Rose had always been his favourite. “Tell him I said thank you.”

“And what about me, huh?” Chris asked, tone serious. “Don’t I get some thanks, you ungrateful young man?”

“Thank you, A-Aunty.” He tripped on the word, never having called Chris anything other than her first name before. From the way the girls cooed and tittered, it had the desired effect.

“Shut up and eat your birthday cake.” Chris said, and although her tone was gruff Roy knew she was just joking. He gladly did as she said.

That night, he lay in bed, listening to Rise Against, 30 seconds to Mars and Green Day until the iPod ran out of battery. He fell in love with music and the way it could transport him to another world, a world where everything could be different. He spent most days with earphones in, until Chris got angry and threatened to confiscate them if he didn’t talk to her more often.

Of course, it couldn’t last forever. One morning in November he couldn’t find Chris anywhere, and she wasn’t answering his cries. He eventually found her in bed, stone cold, and she wouldn’t wake up. One of the girls discovered him sometime in the afternoon, curled up beside her.

He was shipped off to another foster home soon after and everything went back to normal, the only remaining reminders of Chris his cane and a dented iPod.

The weeks blurred into each other and soon enough it was almost the Christmas holidays. Christmas was Roy's least favourite time of the year. Everyone was always so happy and he always just... wasn't. The weeks leading up to it he was more irritable than usual, his thoughts quickly souring. He tended to have more bad days and less good ones, the medication not doing much to help his moods. Izumi called it seasonal depression. Roy called it being in hell.

A week before school broke up, Roy was sat in maths in a particularly bad mood. Izumi had changed his medication and it seemed to be making things worse. He couldn't seem to calm down – no amount of feeling the stitching on his clothes or Scout's fur or even the gum under the desk helped. He could feel himself about to dissociate and forced himself to hold on – they were doing vectors today and he hated them with a passion, so he needed to pay attention.

Luckily for him, the bell rang which forced him back into the land of the living. He collected his stuff in silence – no one in his maths class seemed to really pay him any mind, for which he was grateful – and made his way to the door.

“Hey Mustang!” Ed called, clearly on his way into the classroom. They occasionally met like this, if Ed was early and Roy was being particularly slow.

“Hey.” He replied.

“I forgot to ask you in homeroom this morning.” Ed said. “It's my Birthday soon, on the 23^rd, and I'm having a party. Are you free?”

His stomach bottomed out. “On the 23^rd?”

“Nah, the 22^nd. My actual Birthday is family only, sorry.”

He gave it some thought. It was the day before, so he should be fine. He would be fine. He couldn't disappoint Edward.

“It's not a proper, like frat party with alcohol or anything.” Ed rambled. “My dad would never allow that. It's just gonna be the usuals, we were just gonna do a movie marathon or something, order pizza-”

“That's fine.” Roy interrupted. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Great!” Ed exclaimed. Roy wished he could see his smile. “I'll text you the details nearer the time, 'kay?”

He nodded and forced himself to walk away.

He could do this. He wasn't disrespecting their memory by going to a party the day before the anniversary, right? Even though he didn't really deserve friends, or to be happy at all, it wasn't the anniversary, only the day before, so that was fine, right? Right?

Scout barked, snapping him out of his thoughts. He stroked her to tell her he was here, and then realised he had no idea where he was. He slumped to the floor, back against a locker, and resigned himself to being sat here for the foreseeable future. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long.

“You're Roy Mustang, right?” An unfamiliar voice asked.

“Yes.” He shrugged.

“I'm Denny. I know Jean?” The name was vaguely familiar, and he nodded. “You okay?”

“I'm lost.” He admitted.

“You're in the music department.” Denny said. “I was just on my way to the bathroom when I saw you here.”

The music department was on the opposite side of the school, and he was pretty sure that he'd only been there around once before. He had no clue how he’d ended up there.

“Thanks, you're a lifesaver.” He forced himself to stand up, knees popping painfully and eyes stinging.

“No problem. You okay from here?”

“Yeah, thanks again.” With that, he made his exit, walking as fast as he could in the opposite direction. He had no intention of going to biology, he just wanted to get away from the awkward situation.

He ducked into the nearest toilet and locked himself in a cubicle, taking deep breaths. He frantically ran his hands over anything he could find – Scout's fur, her harness, the toilet-roll dispenser, his arms, his face. He tried to frantically calm himself down, but he couldn't; everything was so overwhelming.

Eventually he remembered how to breathe and took slow, deep breaths, just like Izumi had told him. He felt better now, calmer, in control of things.

He could do this.

Chapter Text

The day before Ed’s birthday thing get together/party/whatever Roy awoke with a start from yet another nightmare, chest heaving, familiar screams echoing in his ears. He had no idea what time it was but didn’t want to go back to sleep, afraid he’d see them burning, turning to ash right before his eyes. He had tried not sleeping before, but it was too easy for him to drift off. Sometimes, it was difficult to tell whether he was awake or asleep.

Now though, he was very much awake, and he realised that he couldn’t do it after all.

His teachers had all given him holiday work to do, but one week in and he hadn't even started. He knew that he was starting to worry Joe and Claire, and he was sure that Izumi had tried to explain everything to them, but he just couldn't - couldn't force himself out of bed, not even for his therapy appointments, couldn’t eat, couldn’t move. He just wanted to lie there forever and for the bed to swallow him whole, or maybe starve to death. He didn't even want to think of going downstairs, let alone going to a party.

It would be ten years this year.

How was he supposed to act like a functional human being tomorrow? How was he supposed to pretend like he was fine, that it wasn't almost the ten-year anniversary of the day he killed his parents and best friend? How was he supposed to eat and sleep and be happy when he had done that?

He could hear his foster parents arguing downstairs and he shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut and enjoying the pressure, letting it bring him back for a second. He let Scout clamber up next to him and dug his headphones into his ears, drowning out the rest of the world. Clutching onto Scout like this, feeling her chest rise and fall against his, he thought that maybe he would make it.

His phone buzzed with a new message, then two seconds later buzzed again. He opened the first one, his phone announcing loudly into his ears that it was from Ed.

'hey, just checking we're still on for tomorrow. Haven't heard from you all week, hoping you can come. Al wants to see your dog again :))) let me know, okay?'

He left it for now, deciding he'd come back to it later, trying not to feel too disappointed that the only reason Ed wanted him to come was because Al wanted to see Scout. Sensing she was being talked about, his dog nudged his face with her nose, giving it a sloppy lick. He grimaced and opened the second message from Riza.

'you're coming tomorrow.' Was all it read.

'am I?'  He replied.

'you need to get over him. you can't avoid it forever.'

She thought he was upset about Ed - which was partially true. His feelings were just a part of his (admittedly many) problems, but he still often found himself digging his nails into his arms, telling himself that he didn't love Ed, he didn't deserve love, Ed was homophobic, Ed would never love him.

'I guess.'  Was his reply.

'just text him back already. He's unbearable on the group chat. Are you sure he doesn't swing that way?'

'I'm SURE. Also you have a group chat? Im offended.'

'you don't have whatsapp you idiot. Also TEXT HIM BACK'

Roy sighed, bringing up his chat with Ed. He typed out a reply saying 'yes. What time?'  but didn't send it.

Ed didn't need him, he knew that. He had other friends who were much better than Roy, normal friends that weren't in love with him. They had a group chat for God's sake. He'd never been in a group chat in his life. They probably used it to talk about him, about how much they hated him, how he should die-

He shook his head. So, what if it was the day before the anniversary, so what if he didn't deserve it? He was selfish god-damnit.

He pressed send. The reply was immediate.

'great!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! is half 4 okay? we're gonna marathon all the star wars films :p'

Maes had loved Star Wars. His hands were shaking. '4:30 is fine.'

'nice!!! see you then space cowboy'

Knowing he was missing a reference, he sighed and put his phone on standby, un-pausing his music. Guitars and drums blasted in his ears and he let the music wash over him. He didn't have to deal with his feelings, he could just zone out and forget everything for now. Feelings were tomorrow's problem.

Unfortunately, it arrived far too quickly. He awoke from yet another nightmare at 5 AM and couldn't go back to sleep. He watched trash TV on his phone for a couple of hours until Claire told him it was eleven and could he please get up?

He dragged himself through his routine, managing to shower and stomach a slice of toast, which he counted as an achievement. By the time he was ready and dressed in 'nice' (read: matching) clothes it was only midday and he had four hours to kill. He re-read The Crucible for the umpteenth time, fingers frantically running over the pages and almost rubbing a hole in the page. He then read All My Sons because screw him, he liked Arthur Miller plays and Twenty One Pilots. He tried anything that would distract him from the fact that he was teetering uncomfortably on the edge of a panic attack, gulping down water and taking long, deep breaths, petting his dog so much he thought she might combust from happiness.

Time seemed to fly by far too quickly and before he knew it he was in the car on the way to Edward's. The Elrics didn't live too far away, only around ten minutes, but the time seemed to painfully drag. Scout whined and kept vying for his attention, seeming to read his bad mood.

The car stopped.

“Have a lovely time.” Claire said. “We'll be back at ten thirty, okay?”

Roy nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt. His limbs felt like lead.

“Love you.” She told him. He didn't reply.

He could hear music blasting from inside the house, and grimaced as he walked up the drive. 'You can do this, Roy Mustang.' He told himself, willing it to be true. 'So, what if this is the first party you've been to in years, so what if it's the day before the anniversary? You can do it.'

He knocked, knuckles rapping three times on the wood. The door was immediately flung open.

“Mustang's here!” Ed cried, and cheers went up from inside the house.

“Let's get this party started!” Someone, maybe Breda, yelled. Roy was dragged inside and shoved unceremoniously onto a sofa in the lounge.

“How are you Roy?” Alphonse asked from his left, voice faint and difficult to hear over the pounding of the bass.

“Alright.” He replied. “You?”

“Good thank you. How's this one, huh?” He crooned, presumably giving Scout the love and attention she deserved.

“Now everyone's here, can we start?” Jean asked. “I'm hungry.”

“You're always hungry.” Riza said. “You can wait ten minutes for popcorn.”

“No, I can't, I'm gonna die.” Havoc moaned. “Riiizzzzaaaa.”

“We're starting with the prequels because fuck you.” Ed announced, collapsing onto the sofa on Roy's right-hand side. “I've put audio descriptions on.” He whispered into Roy's ear.

“Thanks.” He replied quietly as the movie started, the titular music blaring.

He managed to make it through the first movie and half of the second okay, distracting himself by eating popcorn as loudly as he could. He didn't really understand what was going on and couldn't hear half the dialogue because of the other's commentary. He'd never really watched Star Wars before, which was weird because it was everything he'd loved as a kid and Maes was obsessed with it. He was always trying to get him to watch them and-

He made his escape into the kitchen, citing the excuse that he needed a drink. He left Scout behind as she seemed happy enough with Alphonse and Havoc, who were showering her with love.

He managed to make it without walking into a wall and caught his breath leaning against the kitchen counter, breathing long and hard so that he didn't have a full-blown panic attack.

“Hello Mr Mustang.”

Roy startled at the unfamiliar voice, jumping around a foot in the air. The voice was deep and raspy and sounded like it came from an older man. “O-oh. Hello.”

“You're looking well, although last time I saw you had a concussion.” The voice mused, and it was then that Roy realised who it was.

“Thank you for treating me, Doctor Hoenheim.” He replied.

“Oh, just doing my job.” The doctor laughed, loud and rich. “Although I'm glad that you haven't been in recently. No more tripping over chairs?”

“No sir.” He replied, feeling uncomfortable. The stilted, awkward conversation reminded him of past conversations with social workers.

“Good good. Are you still seeing Doctor Curtis?”

“Yessir.”

That's good, I'm glad you're getting the help you need.” Roy wanted to punch him in the face. Was that okay to say about your best friend's dad? “Enjoying yourself out there?”

“Just needed a drink.” And a break from human contact, which it seemed he would never get.

“Alright then, I'll leave you be.” Doctor Hoenheim (Elric? He’d never asked Ed about that.) said. “I'll be going to work now, but let me know if there are any problems, okay? I know Edward can be a handful.”

Roy just nodded, trying not to scream. “I will.”

“Nice to see you again Roy.” With that, he left. Roy waited until his footsteps had subsided before slumping against the counter again, putting his head in his hands. He wanted everything to stop, why wouldn't it just stop?

By now he actually did need a drink. However, he didn't know where the glasses were, so he just stuck his head under the tap in the sink, greedily gulping down the lukewarm water whilst hoping he would drown. He didn't make the best decisions under pressure.

“Roy, you okay?” Ed asked from behind him. “You've been in here a while.”

“I'm fine.” He snapped, bringing his head out from under the tap. His fringe dripped water down his face, the anger boiled under his skin, and suddenly he couldn’t keep his voice down. “I'm fine. Everything is fine, why can't anyone just leave me alone?”

Ed was silent from across the room, the only noises the muted sound of lightsabers and guns from the film and the crunching of popcorn. Someone laughed, loud and carefree.

“Do you want to go to my room?” the other asked quietly. Roy just nodded, afraid if he opened his mouth he'd just say something he'd regret. Ed took him gently by the arm and lead him out of the kitchen, down a corridor and into another room. He was sat down on a bed and Edward plopped next to him, their thighs touching ever-so-slightly.

“I got you a drink.” He said, handing Roy a cool glass.

He took a sip. The water was beautifully cold. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Roy was silent for a while. “Tomorrow is the anniversary.”

“Oh, Roy.” Ed sounded so damn sad and it killed him inside. “You should have told me. If I'd had known I would have changed the date.”

“It's fine.”

“It's clearly not fine.”

He sighed, setting the glass down on the floor and bringing his knees up to his chest. “I'm fine, okay? Just leave it.”

“Look, you can talk to me about anything, I promise.” Ed murmured. “I might not be as good as Izumi, but I can try my best. Al says I'm pretty good.”

Something snapped inside Roy, and suddenly he was so tired. Tired of hiding himself, tired of keeping everything in, tired of living.

“I killed them, alright!” He snarled. “I killed my parents and my best friend and now they're dead and it's all my fucking fault!”

“Roy-” Ed started.

“Don't you dare try and tell me it's not, because it is!” He yelled, leaping to his feet. “I was the one who lit the match, I was the one who dropped it, so it's all my fault okay? I'm a murderer.” He spat.

Ed put a gentle hand on his arm. The touch was so loving, and Roy didn't deserve it. “Roy, I-”

“Don't fucking touch me!” He wrenched his arm away, sending him off balance. He suddenly felt very dizzy and realised how little he had eaten over the past couple of days. He felt himself fall backwards, and then, finally, nothing.

He was just messing around. He'd always been told to stay away from fire, and he just couldn't see why. Fire was always so pretty on the TV.

“I don't think this is a good idea.” Maes said. He was sat criss-cross applesauce on Roy's bed, watching warily. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“C'mon, it'll be fun!” Roy exclaimed. “Aren't you curious?”

“Well yeah, a little.” Maes admitted. “But shouldn't we ask your parents? They are adults after all.”

Roy scoffed. “They'll just tell us no. And besides, aren't you always up for an adventure?”

“Yeah, but-”

“We'll be just like Pyro from the X-men!” Roy cried, before he remembered his parents were asleep next door and cringed. The two were quiet for a second but no sound came. His parents were heavy sleepers. “C'mon Maes.” He whined, quieter this time. “The X-men.”

Maes' eyes brightened, the green filling with gold, and Roy grinned. He always liked Maes' eyes, especially when they looked like that. Roy liked Maes in general. They liked the same things, and Maes would always listen while Roy rambled about Captain America being the best Avenger, even though he thought that Iron Man was. Maes would always pass to him in football, even though Roy was terrible at it and all the other boys laughed at him. All the girls in his class liked Maes, especially stupid Gracia, who wouldn't leave them alone. Maes had told Roy that he liked her and was going to marry her when he was older, which made Roy feel funny. He didn't like Gracia - she wanted to be around Maes all the time and she was stupid - but Maes didn't really play with her very often. He said Roy was his best friend, which made him happy. Maes could be best friends with anyone, but he was best friends with Roy, who was weird because he liked books more than he liked sports and because he had a엄마 instead of a mom. The other boys always called him a Chink and said his dad was stupid because he'd married his엄마 instead of someone normal. But Maes always scared them off, and never said anything like that to him. Roy loved Maes.

“Okay.” Maes said and Roy cheered as quietly as he could. “But only if you watch Star Wars tomorrow.”

Roy groaned. “Maaaeeeesss.”

“They're so cool Roy! There's lightsabers and space battles and Yoda and Ewoks and-”

“Fine, whatever.” He huffed. “Let's just do it already!”

Maes joined him on the rug and they sat opposite each other, legs criss-crossed. A tiny box of matches sat in the middle of them.

“Can I go first?” Roy asked.

“I don't really want a go.” Maes still looked nervous, his glasses on the verge of falling off his nose. Roy pushed them back up.

“We'll be fine, I promise.”

Maes just looked at him, then nodded. “Okay.”

Roy pushed open the box and took out a match. He placed it in the palm of his hand and stared. It was so tiny, he couldn't believe something as cool as fire came from something as boring as this.

“I'm gonna do it.” He said, mostly to himself.

Maes watched warily as he struck the match against the rough part of the box, just like his dad did. It took a few tries, but eventually it ignited.

“Whoo hoo!” He cheered, punching the air with his free hand.

“Whoa.” Maes gasped. “That is kinda cool.”

Roy watched the fire blaze, deciding this was the coolest. The reds and oranges and yellows of the fire were so pretty, much prettier in real life than on the TV. Now he had something to brag about when they went back to school after the holidays, and maybe the other boys would finally think he was as cool as Maes thought he was and leave him alone.

He stared for a bit too long though, and the flame quickly ate through the match, burning his hand. “Ow!” He exclaimed, instinctively letting go.

Almost in slow motion, the match fell to the floor, hitting the rug quietly.

“Quick, put it out!” Maes cried, leaping to his feet and stomping his foot on the floor. “Yeowch!” He yelled as his bare foot hit the open flame.

“I-I'll go get some water.” Roy stammered, almost tripping over his own feet in his rush to escape.

“Roy!” Maes cried, but he was gone, slamming the door behind him in his panic.

His hands shook as he poured a glass of water in the bathroom, trying not to panic when he heard Maes yelp from his room. He looked towards his parent's bedroom and thought about waking them up but decided against it. He'd be in so much trouble if they ever found out.

When Roy came back, smoke was leaking out from under the door. He wrenched it open, screaming in pain when his left hand made contact with the door-handle. As soon as the door was open, smoke came pouring out.

"Maes!” He cried. He could just about see Maes on the other side of the room through all the smoke, huddled up against the wall. The fire roared in the middle of the room, a blazing inferno that was a lot bigger than it had been when he’d left.

“R-Roy!” He heard his best friend yell, and then heard him cough. “Get your parents, hurry! Call the fireme-” Maes broke off, coughing. Roy watched in horror as the flames began to lick at his slippered feet, heat radiating off it. He took a step back.

“I'm coming in!” He yelled, sounding braver than he felt, and threw the water on the flames at the door, leaping over them and into his room.

It was so hot. Roy felt like his skin was going to melt off his body, like in Raiders of the Lost Ark. The smoke was everywhere, and he could barely see, barely breathe. “Maes!” He called again.

There was uncontrolled coughing. “H-Here!” He made his way through the darkness, and eventually managed to reach the bed.

“W-we need to get out of here.” Roy said, grabbing Maes' hands in his. His best friend looked up at him, cheeks stained with tears and soot, and nodded.

Roy looked out of the window. His bedroom was on the second floor, but their house was old and had lofty ceilings and beams and it was so far to the ground. They would probably die if they jumped. Instead, Roy tried to lead Maes back towards his bedroom door, but the flames licked impossibly high and the door was blocked. He suddenly felt very panicked, and oh so scared. He wanted his 엄마 and dad. They were going to die here, and it was all his fault.

“I'm so sorry!” Roy cried, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I-” He broke off to cough. “I didn't want this to happen.” Maes didn't reply, just watched the flames with terror in his eyes, and Roy squeezed his hand so tight it was painful. “I'm sorry!”

Maes turned to him and looked like he was going to reply when the floorboards creaked beneath him. Roy instinctively let go of his hand and took a step back.

“Roy!” Maes screamed. His eyes were fearful and strangely pretty, all lit up with the colours of the fire. The floorboards creaked again, and that was all the warning they got before the floor crumbled beneath him. “ROY! HELP ME!” He screamed, voice breaking.

“MAES!” Roy cried, but all he could do was watch, frozen in place as Maes fell through the floor and into the dark, hand outstretched towards Roy. He heard a sickening crack. “MAES!” He screamed again, but the only reply was the fire blazing. “MAE-” He coughed uncontrollably, backing away from the gaping hole in the floor towards his bed. “MOM! DAD!” His throat burned. “ 엄마 ! 아 빠 !” Something fell on his face, right across his eyes, and he screamed, the sound feral and hoarse. It burned, it hurt so badly, he felt like he was on fire. He fell onto his left and screamed again as he landed on the blazing floorboards, the pain overwhelming everything. He could feel his skin bubbling and burning, a disgusting sizzling sound coming from somewhere. He pressed his hands into his eyes to stop the pain, but it just made it worse. He felt like his eyes were literally burning out of their sockets. It was so difficult to breathe, he was getting dizzy, he just wanted to go to sleep...

The last thing he registered was being lifted into the air, something cool and nice against his skin, and he wondered if this was what death was like.

Roy came to with a start, gasping for breath. It took him a minute to realise where he was, that he wasn't back in the fire, that it had just been a dream. His skin felt aflame, his throat hoarse and his cheeks damp with tears.

“Hey, you're awake.” Ed said from somewhere near Roy's feet. “Have some water.”

Roy sat up, bringing his legs up to his chest and taking the offered glass. He greedily downed the whole thing, some spilling over the sides and onto his clothes in his haste to soothe his throat. “Thank you.” He replied quietly.

“You were out for like an hour.” The other said. “I told the others you were just tired.”

“Thanks.”

Ed was quiet for a still moment. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“You can't avoid it forever, you know.” Edward said. “It's not going to go away.”

“You don't think I know that? You don't think I haven't tried that a million times? I have to live every day with the fact that I-” He broke off, his mouth snapping shut. He instinctively closed his eyes; not that it did him much use.

They were quiet again. Eventually, Ed placed a light hand on his left knee. “It was an accident, Roy.”

“No, I-”

“Shut up and listen to me for a minute.” Ed snapped. “You said it yourself. You dropped the match by accident. You didn't purposely kill them, you're not a murderer. Accidents happen now and again. You can't blame yourself for their deaths, just like I can't blame myself for Al.”

Roy paused. “Did you just quote Thomas the Tank Engine at me?”

“So, what if I did?” Ed laughed, shifting closer. “It gets the message across.”

Roy let out a quiet chuckle, mouth twitching up at the corners in a pathetic attempt at a smile. “We really are the most messed up pair.”

It was Ed's turn to laugh, putting a hand on Roy's shoulder. “That we are.”

Their faces were so close. Roy could feel Ed's breath ghosting his cheeks, feel their chests rise and fall in tandem. He carefully placed his right hand on Ed's cheek. “Thank you.” He whispered.

The other said nothing in reply. Roy couldn't help it; they were so close, and he was just in love with everything that was Ed, consequences be damned.

He leant forward and kissed him.

It was no more than a peck, a chaste brush of lips, but it was like a weight had been lifted from his chest. Ed's lips were chapped and frozen beneath him, but Roy didn't care, they were still perfect and everything he had wanted and more. He was weightless, floating, free, finally happy. It couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but it was the best few seconds he had had for a while.

Suddenly, Ed shoved hard at his chest and Roy was flung backwards, his head smacking painfully off the headboard.

“What the fuck.”

It was said so quietly that Roy had to strain to hear it.

“Ed, I-”

“Don't fucking call me Ed!” He snapped. “So, what, you thought just because I was nice to you that you have the right to call me that! You're fucking disgusting, you know that?”

It was like his entire world was shattering into a million pieces.

“A fucking disgusting faggot. I was only nice to you because I pitied you. I never wanted to be friends. Is that what you thought this was? Friends?”

Roy frantically shook his head. “No, I-”

“Well listen up, asshole. I. Don't. Like. You.” Each word was punctuated by a jab to his chest by Ed’s prosthetic fingers, and a jolt straight through his heart. “You're so fucking retarded, I can't believe you thought that I actually wanted to be your friend.” Ed laughed, the sound bitter and malicious. “Why would I be friends with someone like you? You're such a freak. I hope you burn in hell with the rest of them. You hear that, asshole? I hope you burn.” The last word was spat with such venom it was like Roy had been stabbed, like every nightmare he'd ever had come to life.

“Get the fuck out of my house.” Ed continued. “I never want to see you again, you hear me?”

“I hear you.” Roy murmured. He rose to his feet, but it felt like he was on another planet, his actions being controlled by someone else. His limbs were heavy and leaden.

Edward grabbed his wrist with such ferocity that Roy almost yelped. His grip was bruising, nothing like the tenderness that he had been held with just minutes before. He dragged him through the house, Roy stumbling to keep up with Ed's frantic pace.

In the lounge, the conversation was loud and excitable, the others having no clue as to the fact that just down the corridor Roy’s world had ended.

“Mustang's going home, he's not feeling well.” Ed announced, not stopping.

“Roy, are you alright?” Riza asked.

“He's fine.” Ed spat, wrenching the door open and practically shoving Roy out onto the kerb.

“Wait, brother!” Alphonse called from somewhere, the wheels on his chair squeaking as he made his way over. “Scout!”

Ed let go of his wrist, stomping away. Seconds later Scout's leash was being shoved into his hands and he was being pushed away.

“Remember what I said.” Edward hissed in his ear, before slamming the door behind him.

Roy wandered aimlessly to the end of the drive. He was vaguely aware of Scout barking and yapping, but his legs felt like they didn’t belong to him. He walked until he couldn't anymore and sunk to the ground. Scout was immediately in his face, yapping and licking until he moved a hand to her head and gently pat her. Suddenly, his phone was ringing by his ear. He didn't remember calling anyone.

“Hello?” The voice at the other end asked. He knew that voice; even though it had been ten years since he’d last heard it, it hadn’t changed at all.

“Mom.” He sighed. “I'm so sorry.”

“Roy? Is that you?”

“I didn't want this to happen.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.”

“I can't understand you.” The voice sounded panicked.

“I love you so much, more than anything. I’m sorry.” He choked on the last word, suddenly unable to breathe.

“We’re coming, Roy. Sit tight.”

“No, don’t leave, mom I love you so much, MOM-“

The voice was replaced by a dial tone.

Roy angrily flung the phone away from him and pulled his legs up to his chest, pressing his face into them and screaming as loud as he could. Scout was barking but he did nothing to stop her, just let her push her nose into his hair. He’d washed it specially for Ed’s birthday, and even put some gel in it. He didn’t know why he’d bothered.

The next thing he knew was he was being pulled to his feet and led somewhere. There were gentle arms around his shoulders and voices talking, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying.

What did it matter anymore? Ed hated him. He’d managed to mess up the one good thing he had left. Life was meaningless. Edward was right; he was disgusting, a murderer and he needed to just die.

He was lying somewhere soft. His bed, maybe? He didn’t remember getting there. Scout was curled up next to him, a warm stripe against his side. He could hear murmuring from somewhere, but he didn’t care what was being said. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that for once that God would pay attention to him and just end his existence. 

The next day, he was more aware of himself, and he wished he wasn’t. Ten years. Ten years without his 엄마’s food and his dad’s hugs and Maes’ smile. Ten years to the day since his life had burnt up all around him. It felt like only yesterday.

It seemed like the day was cursed. He couldn’t even kill himself today – hadn’t prepared anything. And when had he changed his mind?

Izumi came to visit but he gave monosyllabic replies, not really registering what she was saying to him other than an uncharacteristically concerned tone. He knew that she was disappointed in him – after all, who wouldn’t be – but he couldn’t bring himself to care much. Nothing mattered anymore.

“Do you have any idea what happened?” Izumi asked. It was after their session and she was talking to Roy’s foster parents just outside his room.

“No idea.” Claire sounded tearful. “He just called us and was speaking Korean, and we found him crying five streets away from Edward’s house.”

Edward. Roy missed him; missed his laughter and the way he never failed to make Roy smile. He would give anything to see him again.

“He’s been like this since.” Joe continued.

“I’ll try talking to him.” Izumi sighed. “We were doing so well, too.”

Scout licked his hand. He absently scratched her head, before lying down and going back to sleep.

He didn’t know how many days he spent like that - drifting in and out of consciousness, the hours awake spent listening to music, away in his own world, the hours asleep plagued by nightmares of the two worst nights of his life. His foster parents tried to get him to get up, to go for a walk, to eat something, do anything, but he wouldn’t. Eventually they gave up, delivering meals to his door and barely saying a word to him.

It was fine. Roy had a plan that would finally put things right. He just needed to wait for the right moment to apply it.

Eventually, the time came.

The door to his bedroom creaked open. “Roy, sweetie?” Claire asked. “Joe and I are going out, to that charity ball, remember? We’ll be a couple of hours at most. If you need anything, just give us a ring, alright?” They’d given him a new phone after finding his old one smashed to pieces on the kerb. Roy supposed he should be thankful, but it just made him resentful that Edward wasn’t texting him and wouldn’t ever again.

He grunted in reply. Claire just sighed and left the room.

He waited until he heard the front door slam to make his move. The phone told him the time was 7:30 pm – perfect. He stood up and groggily made his way to the bathroom, where he knew Claire’s sleeping pills were kept. Scout was barking and smacking her tail against him. All he did was give her an absent scratch. The next stop was downstairs, which took some doing when his legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. It also took him a while to find exactly what he needed - he couldn’t exactly just ask Joe for them - but he did. He returned to his room, sat down at his laptop, and began to type.

Roy checked the time again – 8:15 pm. He didn’t know how long he had left, he needed to make his move quickly. He printed the letter, then snatched it up and walked downstairs as fast as his legs would carry him, Scout following immediately behind, letting himself out into the back garden. The night was freezing, the frost-stiff grass crunching beneath his feet as he walked, but he managed to find a plant-pot and trap the letter beneath it. He just hoped that someone would find it.

Now for the difficult part. He walked slowly back towards the door, his dog hot on his heels. He opened the back door, then turned around.

“Scout, play time.” He said, voice croaky from disuse. Immediately Scout ran away, expecting him to throw a toy. Roy took a few steps back, so he was inside the house, then chucked her rubber ball as far as he could. As soon as he did so, he slammed the door and locked it.

“I’m sorry girl.” He murmured. He could hear her scratching at the door, whining and begging to get in, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. He didn’t want her to have the same fate as him.

He made his way back to his room, making sure he had everything he needed. He pushed his desk chair back against the door and sat down on his bed. Roy exhaled once, gulped and clutched the pill bottle as tight as he could.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, not sure as to whom. Then he tipped the contents of the pill bottle into his mouth, chugged them down with water, then lit the match and set fire to the paper. He was already beginning to feel drowsy as he set the smouldering paper ball down at the other end of the bed before curling up in a ball.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured again, before falling head first into the blackness. Hopefully this time, he would never wake up.

Chapter Text

Ed was awoken at 2 am by his phone shrilly ringing. Groggily, he grabbed it and immediately hung up, not even bothering to check the caller ID. It was far too early to be dealing with anyone’s shit.

He’d almost fallen back asleep when the phone began to ring again. Fully awake now, he picked it up and answered, ready to give whoever was on the other end a piece of his mind.

“Look, it’s far too fucking early-“

“Edward?” A hysterical female voice answered. It took him a couple of seconds to recognise it as Claire – she’d given him her number one day for if there was ever an emergency when he was hanging out with –

“Yes?” He replied.

“Oh my God, you have to come right now, please Edward you have to, he wrote you a note and-“

“Come where?”

“The hospital!” Claire said, then immediately burst into incomprehensible sobs.

“What’s going on?” Ed asked. There was no reply on the other end for a couple of seconds, then a crackling static.

“Edward? It’s Joe. I think it’s best if you come immediately.” The man’s voice was thick, like he was having to try his best to not cry. “It’s Roy.” He said, answering Ed’s unspoken question. “He, er, tried to commit suicide last night.”

Ed’s stomach plummeted and just like that he knew. He’d tried his best not to think about Roy and what happened that night - had thrown himself into studying and Tae Kwan Do to try and distract himself from thinking about it. Al and Izumi had tried to ask him about what happened multiple times, but he just deflected them away, saying that Roy had been feeling ill and just ran off, and yes, they were fine, still friends. He’d been trying his best to put Roy Mustang out of his head since Ed had walked into homeroom for the first time - the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way his hair was adorably messy, and his clothes never matched, the way his lips had felt perfect when they were pressed on Ed’s own-

He physically shook his head to try and suppress the thoughts of Roy. Men shouldn’t think of other men like that. Ed was going to marry Winry, and they were going to have two adorable kids and live in the countryside for the rest of their days. That was how it was going to be, how Dad expected it to be, how Winry expected it to be, and he shouldn’t be thinking about his male classmate (friend, they used to be friends) like that.

“He left you a note.” Joe continued. “I think you should come to the hospital.”

Ed shouldn’t go. He should stay in bed and try to forget all about Roy Mustang and the way he had kissed him.

“Central Hospital?” He found himself asking.

“That’s the one. Please, just… come quickly.”

Ed didn’t even answer, just hung up the phone.

As if on autopilot, he stood up and started getting dressed, pulling on his prosthetics and the first clothes he could find. He was halfway out the door when Al wheeled himself into the lounge

“Brother, what’s going on?” He asked. Ed felt a jolt of guilt strike through his chest – Al shouldn’t have had to go through all that trouble to get himself into his chair just to check up on him when it was his fault that he’s in the chair in the first place. All of a sudden, he realised what he was doing.

“I don’t know.” His knees felt weak, and he collapsed into the faux-leather armchair, the same one that he and Roy had sat on just weeks ago before everything changed.

Al moved over next to him. “You can tell me anything.” Ed shut his eyes but could tell that Al was giving him his trademarked Judgement-Look – the one that felt like he was staring into the depths of your soul. “It’s about Roy, isn’t it?”

Ed just sighed. Al had a way of always knowing what was up with people.

“Is this about what happened at your birthday?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” He said. Al turned his golden-brown eyes on him and gave a reassuring smile. It was the patented Puppy Dog Smile, and suddenly the weight of everything hit him all at once an Ed was just so tired. “He tried to kill himself.”

Al’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

“Language.” He automatically chided.

“Are you okay?” Al said, placing a hand on Ed’s fake leg.

“No.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “It’s all my fault and I don’t know what to do.”

It was Al’s turn to sigh, and he moved the hand on Ed’s leg in small circles. “It’s okay if you love him.”

Ed physically jolted, and he shifted away from his brother. “I don’t.”

The emotion in Al’s eyes was unidentifiable. “I’m not saying you do, but if you did it would be okay.” Ed didn’t reply, and Al sighed again, sounding years older than sixteen. “You deserve to be happy.”

There was nothing Ed could say to that. The truth was, he didn’t deserve to be happy, with what happened to Al and now Roy…

‘But what if you do?’ A voice in his head whispered. ‘But what if you could have him?’

It hit Ed all at once that Roy could be lying dead in the hospital right now. “I need to go.” He said, leaping to his feet and grabbing the minivan keys from the bowl by the front door.

“Dad’s gonna flip.” Al said, although his expression was soft.

“Do I look like I care?”

Al shook his head. “No, I suppose not.” He sighed, running a hand through his short hair in a way that traitorously reminded him of Roy. “Just go.”

Ed let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Thanks Al. You’re the best.”

“And I want a cat!” Al cried as Ed slammed the door behind him. At this point, Ed would agree to anything.

He needed to see Roy.

Ed’s mind wasn’t wholly present during the drive to the hospital. It ran in circles of Roy, his dad, Al, Winry and then back to Roy again. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Al had said to him, his mind in a constant state of ‘what if?’. It was only as he was pulling into a parking space that he came back down to earth and shook his head. He couldn’t. There was no way that it could ever happen, he needed to put those thoughts behind him and just move on.

Then why was he here?

Ed clambered out of the car and slammed the door behind him, sprinting across towards the hospital as fast as his legs would carry him - which, not to brag, was pretty fast; there was a reason he did track and field – while frantically pressing the lock door button on the car keys (his dad would literally murder him if the car got stolen). It seemed to take an age for the automatic doors to open, but once they did he was sprinting through them towards the front desk, slamming his hands down on the top to stop himself running straight into it.

“I’m looking for Roy Mustang.” He gasped at the woman behind the desk. She gave him a strange look before typing quickly on her computer, fingers flying across the keyboard.

“He’s in the ER, but I must warn you-“

“Thanks!” Ed shouted, already on his way.

The waiting room was practically empty, and he found Roy’s foster parents as soon as he walked through the door. Claire immediately shot to her feet and wrapped Ed up in a tight hug.

“Thank God you came.” She said. Hair that had slipped out of her once-elegant bun tickled Ed’s face, and guilt churned in his stomach. When he was finally released from her grasp she pulled him over to where her husband was sat, manhandling Ed into a chair. “Give him the note.”

Ed studied her face. She was dressed in a long, pale blue dress with a thick jacket over the top that was clearly her husband’s. Her makeup, once beautifully done, had ran where she had been crying, black mascara and sparkly eyeshadow decorating her dark skin.

Joe rummaged around in his pockets. At first glance, he appeared more put together than his wife, but soot dusted his pale cheeks, and his suit and brown hair were slightly singed. Ed was handed a folded slip of paper, slightly damp and freezing cold, and made eye-contact with Joe. His eyes were full of despair.

“We found it under a pot in the back yard.” The man explained. “He’d locked Scout outside, so she didn’t get hurt.”

“What happened?” Ed asked, staring at the note in his hands. He’d forgotten to put gloves on, so his prosthetic was exposed to the world, the black carbon fibre contrasting with the paleness of his left hand.

The two exchanged glances, before Joe started to talk. “We went out to a Charity dinner. Roy’s been off for the past couple of weeks, but we thought he’d be fine alone for the evening.” He wiped at his eyes quickly, shaking his head. “We got a call from our neighbours at around 9:30, complaining of the noise that Scout was making. We went home immediately, but…”

Ed felt like he was going to throw up. Claire burst into tears again, burying her head in her husband’s chest. Joe gave her a pained look, before shakily continuing. “We noticed the smoke coming from his window and called the fire department. I managed to get in and get him out before anything worse happened. He was still alive, but…” He trailed off. “Read it.” He said, before gathering Claire up in his arms.

Ed turned away, feeling like he was intruding on something private. He turned the note over in his hands a couple of times, before taking a deep breath and opening it.

‘This note is to everyone I’ve hurt. It is probably going to be incredibly cliché and awkward, but I can’t bring myself to care that much. If this is the only way that I can tell everyone, then so be it.

To Claire and Joe: I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the foster son you deserved. I’m sorry that I’ve brought you all this unhappiness and burdened you with having to look after me and buy me phones and dogs (although I’m not sure I can be too upset about the latter).’

Ed couldn’t help it - he laughed, clearly surprising Claire and Joe.

‘You deserve so much more than me, and I’m sorry for having to do that to your house, but it needed to be done.

To Chris: I’m sorry that I only knew you for such a short amount of time. I’m sorry that I never truly trusted you or opened up to you like I know that you wanted me to. I know now that your intentions were good, and I’m sorry that I didn’t realise earlier. You were the reason I survived as long as I did, and I can’t thank you enough for caring for me, for introducing me to music, and for giving me my independence back.’

‘To Edward: I’m sorry for messing everything up between us. Our friendship was the best thing to happen to me in a very long time, and I shouldn’t have ruined it because I couldn’t keep my feelings to myself. I’m sorry that you had to put up with me for the past few months, and even though I know you’ll probably be glad that I’m not going to be intruding on your lunches anymore, it still hurts. I would say that I’m sorry for loving you, but that’s not true. Know this Edward Elric – you are so smart, so kind, and don’t ever think otherwise. You can do anything you put your mind to, and I just know that you’ll do great things without me there to hold you back. There are many things I’m sorry for, but I don’t think I can ever be sorry for loving you.

Ed’s eyes stung with unshed tears, and he rubbed at them angrily. This was all his fault; Roy had opened up to him, had trusted him and he had betrayed that trust in the worst way possible. And now Roy could be dead. This could have all been avoided if Ed hadn’t been an idiot and overreacted and said all the shit that his day said, if he hadn’t let all his insecurities out. Roy had loved him, and Ed had…

He shook his head. There was still more to read.

‘Maes: I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry I didn’t heed your warnings and set the fire anyway, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry that you didn’t get to grow up and play football like you always wanted to, I’m sorry that you never got to marry Gracia, or that you never did get to show me Star Wars. I’m sorry about the future that I took away from you, and I would never expect you to forgive me.

Eomma and Dad: I’m sorry for being a terrible son. I’m sorry for not running to get you like I should have done, I’m sorry for murdering you, I’m sorry that we never did get to go to Disneyland, and that you didn’t get to live your lives to the fullest. You deserved so much better than me, and I’m sorry that I never did show how much I adored you. Words can’t express how sorry I am. Again, I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just want you to know that I loved you so, so much, and I just wish that we could have had more time together.

I’m not sorry that I’m doing this. It’s what I deserve after everything that I’ve done. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and I can’t seem to bring myself to regret what I’m doing. It’s probably the best decision I’ve ever made, I’m just sorry that I somehow managed to ruin all your lives before I made it.

Roy Mustang.

The tears finally fell, streaming down his cheeks. He wiped frantically at his eyes, but they wouldn’t stop. This was all his fault, he had been such an idiot and now Roy was in the hospital and was dying at this very second. He had tried to kill himself all thanks to Ed and his big mouth.

His train of thought was cut off as he found himself wrapped in another hug. He inhaled the faint scent of strawberry and coffee, but instead of comforting him, it just made him feel like he was going to vomit.

“I’m sorry.” He gasped between sobs. “This is all my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Edward.” Claire murmured into his ear. “We should have noticed something was wrong earlier. He lives with us, we-“

“Nobody is blaming anyone.” Joe interrupted. “All we can do is wait and see.”

It was at that moment that Ed’s father decided to make an appearance, striding into the waiting room with a clipboard clutched in his grasp.

“Mr and Mrs- Edward?” His dad looked shocked, and rather angry. “What are you doing here?”

“We asked him to come.” Claire said, quick to rise to Ed’s defence. “He was good friends with Roy.”

Hoenheim shook his head slightly, forehead wrinkling, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Anyways, Mr Mustang is going to make it.” He said, without fanfare.

Roy’s foster parents were hugging again, but Ed barely noticed. He slumped back in his chair, energy seeming to have disappeared. Roy was going to make it. Roy was alive.

“He had to have his stomach pumped to remove the sleeping pills from his system.” His dad continued. “He has some new burns, but only second degree so hopefully they shouldn’t scar too badly. He’s been very lucky. You’ll be able to see him soon- he should wake up in the next hour or so. You can go visit him if you wish. Now, Edward, a word.”

Ed managed to somehow rise to his feet despite the fact his brain had seemingly fucked off to another dimension. He followed his dad out into a side corridor.

“What are you doing here?” His father asked, voice colder than ice.

Ed rubbed at his eyes, trying to remove the excess tears from his face. “Roy was my friend. I was on the note, they called me. Why does it matter?” He retorted, anger seeping into his voice despite how much he knew he should keep his cool.

Hoenheim seemed to not have time for any of Ed’s bullshit today because he grasped Ed by the collar and pulled him up to his height. “I don’t want you associating with that boy anymore, you hear me?” He said, so close to Ed’s face that his breath was warm against Ed’s cheek. “I don’t want to see you in this hospital for anything other than an absolute emergency whilst he is here. Apparently, the note said that he was gay.” His father spat the word like it was something poisoned. “You don’t want to associate with a faggot, do you son?”

Ed’s stomach bottomed out yet again. “No sir.”

His father dropped Ed unceremoniously to the ground. He quickly glanced around, then slapped Ed hard across the face. “You’ve heard he’s alive, now go home.” With that, he stalked back the way he came.

Ed returned to the waiting room in a daze, noticing that Claire and Joe had vanished, presumably to see Roy. He slowly wandered towards the exit, only really awaking when he was sat back in the minivan. As much as he wanted to stay, he knew he couldn’t – if Hoenheim found him he’d flip his shit, and Ed really didn’t fancy getting into an argument with him again. He could always come back later and – no. He didn’t deserve to see Roy. Not when he was the reason he was there in the first place.

Shaking his head, Ed pulled out of the car park and tried to bury the thought of Roy Mustang forever.

Chapter Text

Roy woke up.

It did not happen all at once – it felt more like he was slowly swimming to the surface of a lake made of custard, or jelly, or something like that. He was aware of voices all around him, but he couldn’t work out what they were saying. He didn’t really care; it was warm and soft, so he was happy to just drift.

It couldn’t last forever, though, and soon enough the voices became clearer to him.

“-very lucky. He’s recovered rather fast.”

His eyes felt heavy. He didn’t really feel like opening them, and it wasn’t like there was any point in doing so.

“That’s incredible. Thank you so much.” Another voice said. He recognised it – it felt warm and fuzzy and like home.

“Whusshappnin?” He slurred.

There were multiple gasps.

“Roy, son? You awake?” A different voice asked.

“Mmm.” He replied. “S’warm.”

“I know son, I know.”

There was a weird noise coming from somewhere – was it crying? He could hear other stuff too; beeping and squeaking and mumbling. He didn’t know where he was.

“Whhhr m’I?” He asked.

“The hospital.” The first voice said. He knew it, the name was right there-

“Just sleep, sweetie.” A new voice told him. And Roy did.

The next time he woke up, his stomach immediately sank.

He was alive. He’d failed. He couldn’t even kill himself right, how much of a failure was he?

He didn’t think he’d made a sound, but he must have, because the next thing he knew someone was asking, “Roy?”

He didn’t recognise the voice, and instead of answering, he just turned over onto his side.

“I know you’re awake. I need to check your vitals.” His right arm was being manhandled, but he couldn’t be bothered to resist. There was silence for a while, only broken by the beeping of his monitors, the rustle of the sheets and the bustle of the hospital.

He couldn’t believe he’d messed up again. He’d thought his plan was fool proof – how did he manage to live? He should have taken more sleeping pills, or found something more flammable, barricaded the door better, next time he’d-

“All done.” The voice said, dropping his arm unceremoniously. “I’ll go fetch your parents and the doctor.”

Roy was only left alone for a few seconds before the door burst open again.

“Roy!” Claire screamed, and suddenly he found himself engulfed in warmth, being hugged so tightly, he thought his ribs might break. “We were so worried about you!”

“We’re so glad you’re okay.” Joe whispered, right in Roy’s ear, which startled him slightly.

“I’m glad to see you awake, Mr Mustang.” The voice sounded anything but, and it took him a while to recognise it as Doctor Hoenheim. Edward’s father. “You gave your family quite a scare.”

“To put it lightly.” Claire laughed weakly. Roy’s stomach sank.

“Is Scout okay?” He blurted.

There was an awkward pause. “She’s fine.” Joe said. “She’s with a neighbour.”

Roy felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “Thank you.”

“You could have caused her serious harm, young man.” Hoenheim sounded angry. “You need to think about the consequences of your actions.” He took a breath, seeming to compose himself before continuing. “We had to pump your stomach, and you have second degree burns on your legs and chest. You’re incredibly lucky to be alive right now.”

Roy tried to scoff, but just ended up coughing. Lucky his ass.

“You should be alright to be transferred to the psychiatric ward-“

“A psych ward?” Roy asked incredulously. “I don’t need that.”

He felt the weight of three pairs of eyes on him. “It’s procedure after all suicide attempts.” Hoenheim continued. “As I was saying, you should be transferred sometime this afternoon. Doctor Curtis should be here shortly.” With that, he seemed to be finished, his footsteps announcing his retreat.

“That man has terrible bedside manner.” Joe muttered, and Roy chuckled slightly, but it just ended up making him cough again.

There was a long and terrible silence, so terrible it seemed to press down on Roy’s chest, constricting his airways.

“I’m hurt, Roy.” Claire started. “I thought we’d gotten over this. We thought you knew that you could come to us with anything. Then after Edward’s party-“

“Don’t okay?” He interrupted, somehow managing to make the words come out. “I know I fucked up. That’s all my life’s been – a series of fuck ups. I’m sorry.”

“You could have at least told us that you’re gay.” Claire said. “We don’t care, Roy.”

“I’m not, okay?”

“But, the note-“

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t, he’s not- Ed hates me.”

“He was here earlier.” Joe said.

“What?” Roy asked, head reflexively snapping around to face his foster father.

“Edward. He was here earlier. Came as soon as we called him.”

“He looked devastated.” Claire’s voice had taken on a tone that Roy didn’t recognise. “That doesn’t look like hate to me.”

“But he said so.” He murmured, feeling like a child.

“Sometimes people say things they don’t mean.” Said Joe simply.

That shut Roy up, and he lay back on the pillows. Could it be possible? No, he didn’t deserve love, let alone Edward’s. There was no way that Ed could actually…

“Roy Mustang you stupid, stupid child!” Izumi shouted, and for the second time since he woke up Roy found himself engulfed in a crushing hug.

“I’m sorry.” He said, and there was something wet on his cheeks and it tasted like salt and – oh. He was crying.

Izumi said nothing in reply, simply tightening the hug. When she finally released him, he could hear her breaths coming out shaky and rapid, and he realised she was upset.

“Could you give us a few minutes, please?” She asked, and he heard footsteps before the door opened and closed. Izumi sat down near his feet, her weight distorting the mattress and the covers. “Tell me everything, before I kill you myself for being so stupid.” She said.

And Roy did. He told her about the night his parents and Maes died, his life in the system, Chris’ kindness when he was about to give up for good, Edward treating him as a person, the party, the kiss and the subsequent reaction. He told her about how useless he felt, the way he thought sometimes he would be crushed by the feelings, how he didn’t deserve love and happiness. When he was finished, Izumi was quiet for what seemed like an eternity.

“I’m not offended that you didn’t tell me all of this earlier,” She started, “but I do wish it had never gotten to this point. You’ve both been incredibly stupid.”

“I know.” Roy replied.

“However, this is a new beginning. Use it to get closure.” She rubbed his back. “You deserve to be happy, Roy.”

He just nodded, not sure how to reply.

“I’m being serious.”

“Er, I know?”

“Good.” Izumi said. “You need to know that you deserve good things. You don’t need to be punished, okay?” She took a deep breath. “They would want you to be happy.”

Roy’s stomach churned, and his hands impulsively clenched in the sheets. “I know that, I just-“ Tears sprung to his eyes. “If I hadn’t have done it then they would all still be here.”

“Think about it this way.” Said Izumi, quietly. “If it had been Maes that had done it, and you had died, would you want him to punish himself for the rest of his life?”

“No, I-“

“Exactly. They’d want you to live your life.” She paused. “I know you’ve had some horrible experiences, to put it lightly, since then. And I don’t want to overlook that trauma at all. But you need to understand that not everyone an abusive asshole.” She took a deep breath. “Not everyone is out to get you. You’re surrounded by people that love you right now, and they just want you to be happy. You can begin to heal now, Roy.”

That was the final straw. Roy burst into loud, almost hysterical sobs, the tears pouring down his face, and he found himself unable to stop even if he had wanted to. Izumi immediately engulfed him in a rib-crushing hug and held him tightly as he cried and cried.

He didn’t know how long they passed like that, but eventually he ran out of tears to cry and his breathing evened out to something resembling normal. “Thank you.” He said, wiping away the snot and tears from his face.

“You’re welcome.” Izumi’s voice was quiet, and so motherly that he almost started crying again. “Now get some rest. We’ll talk some more later, okay?”

“Okay.” Roy said, and began to drift off almost immediately, Izumi’s presence guiding him into a dreamless sleep.

True to Hoenheim’s word, Roy was transferred to the psychiatric ward that afternoon. He, Izumi and his foster parents talked in length for hours about everything – and he meant everything – in detail, leading to him being prescribed new medicine for depression, as well as for anxiety.

He stayed there for a couple of weeks, participating in the stupid group exercises that they had him doing, taking his meds, and he even started his holiday homework (which was probably due weeks ago, but that was beside the point). Claire and Joe visited as often as they could, but soon enough they had to go back to work and could only come for a couple of hours at the most, often dropping off Scout when they did.

His reunion with her had been emotional. Claire and Joe had brought her along one week into his stay, and he’d immediately burst into tears again, so relieved that she was alive and safe. She had jumped up on the bed, covering his face in sloppy licks that he found he didn’t mind, her tail thumping fast and hard against his leg as his foster parents laughed happily in the background. From that point on, they brought her every time they visited, however she wasn’t allowed to stay overnight, meaning that he either had to be lead around the ward by the nurses, or had to fumble his way around with a cane every time he needed the toilet.

Izumi too, visited as often as she could, which was, admittedly, not that often, as she had other patients to see. They mostly just talked – usually about anything that came to mind. It was, as much as he hated to admit it, nice, just to talk to someone, with no expectations of having to say anything he didn’t want to. Roy was beginning to believe that maybe, just maybe, he had a future. That he could do something with his life, and live, for them.

It was a Saturday, and Roy was sat in his hospital bed, reading ‘Fahrenheit 451’ for his English class. Scout was curled up on top of his feet, having been dropped off by Claire before she went to work. Roy was happy for her company – he had a room to himself, so it could often get lonely. All of a sudden, he heard an almighty slam, and Scout gave a quiet bark of greeting.

 “Yo, Mustang!” Jean cried. “A little birdy told us you’d be here.”

“That birdy was your mom.” Said Breda.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Riza announced, flopping next to him on the bed. “How are you feeling?” She continued, quieter so only he could hear.

“Better.” He replied.

“Good.” She sounded like she was smiling.

“We were worried when you didn’t turn up at lunch for, like, a week.” Fuery said.

“And after what happened at Ed’s party.” Falman continued, despite Roy stiffening at the mention of Edward’s name.

“We were gonna go drop by your house, but then we realised you’d never told us where you lived.” Breda said, chewing on something (Roy wasn’t sure how he’d gotten it into his room when outside food wasn’t allowed, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know).

“So we broke into records and found your address.” Jean said nonchalantly, settling next to Roy’s feet.

Roy blinked unnecessarily. “You what?”

“Kain rigged up a distraction.” Jean sounded far too gleeful. “Then Riza and I snuck into the office.”

“It was too easy.” Riza sounded contemplative. “They really should have better security.”

Roy was speechless. “Anyway,” Falman continued, “we went to your house and your foster parents told us what happened.”

“We came as soon as we could!” Fuery exclaimed. “I brought you some music recommendations, ‘cause I’m sure it’s boring in here.”

“I brought you some food.”

“I brought you our demo CD!”

“I brought you a book. It’s in Braille, don’t worry.”

“Thanks.” Roy said suddenly, surprising himself.

“It’s what friends do.” Riza replied, rubbing small circles into Roy’s shoulder.

It took all his restraint not to blurt out something stupid like ‘we’re friends?’. Because yes, they were his friends, and had been for a while now.

“You’ve got a really dumb smile on your face.” Jean said suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” He replied.

“His face is always dumb.” Riza stated.

“Sick burn!” Breda crowed. The room went deadly silent. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Roy couldn’t help it – he laughed, loud and wild, until he began to cough. That seemed to set everyone else off laughing, and soon the room was full of joyful chatter.

It couldn’t last. He knew as soon as he opened his mouth that it would be a mistake, but he just- he needed to know.

“How is he?”

A hush descended over the group, quick and heavy, like a sea-fog. No one asked him to clarify who he was.

“Weird.” Jean said.

“Quiet.” Falman added. “And he gets angrier quicker than normal.”

“What happened?” Riza asked. A warm hand found his shoulder and squeezed it once.

Roy took a deep breath. “I kissed him.”

Silence.

“Oh.” Said Havoc.

“He freaked out.” Riza said, a statement and not a question.

Roy nodded. “Said that he’d never wanted to be my friend in the first place, and some other stuff that I’m not going to repeat.”

The hand on his shoulder tensed. “I’ll kill him.”

“Don’t.” Roy sighed. “I just wish he’d come and visit.”

Scout whined. Someone must have stroked her, because her tail started to thump happily against Roy’s leg.

“We don’t care, you know.” Breda said, rather awkwardly. “About the whole, y’know, gay thing.”

“Even though I’m sorry you can’t appreciate the joys of women- ow, Riza!” Jean yelped. Roy laughed, warm and full, as did the others. “What Breda said.” He continued, sounding sincere.

“Thanks.” Roy said, and he meant it.

Riza wrapped her arms around him from behind, giving Roy a quick, uncharacteristic hug.

“I told you it would be okay.” She murmured.

“Should have always listened to you.”

“You should know by now that I’m always right about these things.” She chuckled.

“If both weren’t gay, I’d be so confused right now.” Havoc commented. Riza broke off the hug and stood up, cracking her knuckles. “Kidding!”

Roy laughed again, in what must be a new record for him. Once again, the room was filled with chatter and he sat, content to listen to his friends (friends) talk about meaningless gossip. It was at times like this that he thought maybe, just maybe, he’d be okay.

A week later found Roy lying in his room back at his foster parent’s house, having finally been discharged from the hospital that morning. It felt amazing to be back in his own space, although there had been some small changes since he had last been in his room – namely a new bed and a fresh coat of paint. Luckily, the fire hadn’t done that much damage (not like burning the house down, killing his family and friend, ruining his entire life) and cost his foster parents too much money.

Still, as he shut his eyes he couldn’t help but stress. His new anxiety medication didn’t seem to help the panic he felt at having to return to school that Monday. He was sure by now that word had spread about his attempt – Central was fairly large, but gossip spread fast. However, the thing that gave him the most anxiety was not his peers, but rather one specific peer.

Edward.

Their last words continued to echo in his mind, despite the everyone and the rational part of his brain telling him that they weren’t true. Every night as he closed his eyes, Edward’s voice would scream ‘I hope you burn!’, the words fierce and stinging and so full of hate. Roy dreaded what would happen come Monday, having to sit beside him for at least an hour. What would they do at lunch? Would they pretend that the past few months had been just some sort of delusion? Would Ed shout again? Would Roy overreact? Was he overreacting now? What if-

“Roy?” Claire shook him awake. He hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen asleep. “You have a visitor.”

He sat up, rubbing excess sleep and crusted tears from his eyes. “Give me a minute.”

“I’ll send them up.”

Roy carded his hands through his hair, attempting to ground himself back to reality. Scout jumped up next to him on the bed, and he gratefully rubbed her flank, trying not to let the anxiety swallow him whole as he waited.

There was a knock at the door – a polite rap, three times quick and light.

“Come in.” Said Roy.

The door squeaked open and Scout let out a quiet bark of greeting. “Hey.”

Acid rose up into Roy’s throat and he swallowed, trying desperately not to throw up. “Edward.”

“Can I sit?”

“Go right ahead.”

Edward settled on the opposite side to Scout, leaving a couple of inches between himself and Roy. He shifted awkwardly, and the sheets rustled beneath him as he moved.

“Can you just let me talk?” Ed asked. Roy nodded, and Ed let out a long sigh of relief.

There was another silence, heavy and awkward, so unlike how things used to be.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me – ever.” Ed began. “But I just wanted to try and explain things, because it’s my fault.”

“It’s not-“

“Shut up, it is.”

“I was going to say that it wasn’t all your fault.” Roy clenched his hands in the sheets, trying desperately to contain the anger that threatened to boil over.

That made Edward quiet, but before the silence could stretch for too long, he continued, “Will you let me talk now?” Roy just nodded. “So yeah, I would have come earlier, but my d- Hoenheim wouldn’t let me. Claire and Joe called me, you know? On the night of it. And I came to the hospital but he saw me and-“ Ed stopped abruptly, mouth snapping shut with an audible pop. “Never mind.”

He took another deep breath. “I’ve been talking with Izumi, about everything. About why I reacted in the way that I did. And I know it’s no excuse and that you should never forgive me, but I wanted to at least try and explain myself.” He exhaled awkwardly, but it seemed that Roy couldn’t breathe. The panic was beginning to well up in his stomach. “I reacted the way I did because I’ve wanted you to kiss me since the first time I saw you.”

Roy’s blood froze solid in his veins. “What?”

“I freaked out because all my life I’ve been told that it was a sin to- to like men like that. My mom used to be religious – that’s how she met my dad - so Al and I used to go to church all the time when we were little. The vicar would say stuff, and people talked, and although I don’t think mom would have minded, it doesn’t really matter what she would have thought about it now.” Ed didn’t sound bitter, more just resigned, like this was something he had accepted long ago. “And when Hoenheim came back, he kept saying all this shit about them – about gay people. I think he expects me to marry Winry or someone – everyone else does, because we grew up together and we’re good friends. And I do love her, but just… not like that, ya know?"

Roy nodded. He did know.

Ed took a deep breath. “I could kinda push those thoughts to the back of my head and try and forget about them, but then when you kissed me it was just all there, and I was just so scared about what everyone would think if they found out. I knew I was making a mistake because you’d just taken a huge risk and I was stomping on your heart and it was the day before the anniversary of your parent’s deaths, so I knew you were in a shitty place but… I just couldn’t stop. All this stuff I’d kept inside, it just came tumbling out. I took my insecurities out on you, which makes me the world’s biggest asshole.” He rambled. “I know it’s no excuse, but I stayed away because I was scared. Of what people would think, of what” He swallowed, “Hoenheim would think, and what he would do.”

Ed was quiet for a few seconds before Roy realised that he was finished speaking. “What would he do?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” Said Ed, shifting uncomfortably. “But it wouldn’t be good.”

Suddenly, something in Roy’s mind clicked, and he understood.

He reached out his hand, left it, palm up, on the bed and said, “I get it.”

There was silence, then Ed’s hand was in his, squeezing it tightly. “Thanks.” He said.

They sat like that for a while, simply revelling in each other’s company, words unnecessary. He knew, however, that it was time for him to repay Ed for his honesty - ‘it’s only equivalent’, as Ed had said all those months ago. Roy took a deep breath, squeezed Ed’s hand one last time, then began to speak.

“When I was eight, two days before Christmas I had my best friend over for a sleepover. We were close – really, he was my only friend. I wasn’t well-liked by everyone else in my class, but it didn’t matter that much because I had Maes.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “I’d always been fascinated by fire for some reason, so I stole some matches from my parents and snuck them into my bedroom.

“Maes kept telling me that it wasn’t a good idea. I don’t even know why I did it – maybe I wanted to seem cool to everyone, which is hypocritical, but I don't know, I was eight. Whatever the reason, I lit a match. It burned my hand and I dropped it on the rug. It caught fire and… that was it. Everyone dead except me.”

Ed squeezed his hand even tighter but didn’t offer any words of consolidation. They weren’t needed.

“I was passed between foster homes for a while. Most of the homes… they weren’t good, to say the least. There was one, with Aunty Christmas, where I thought I could finally settle, but she died, and I was back to the orphanage again.” He exhaled, breath shaky. “And here I am.”

The quiet descended on them again, although much less awkward. “Thanks.” Ed said. “For telling me.”

“Thanks.” Roy replied. “For apologising.”

He didn’t know how long they sat there, simply existing. The weight of Ed’s hand in his, occasionally rubbing his warm thumb against Roy’s, kept him grounded, and he let the sound of their breathing calm him until he was the least anxious he had been in a while.

It couldn’t last forever. Scout stretched, curling up into a different position with a loud yawn, and the spell was broken.

“I should go.” Ed said. Roy wanted to beg him to stay, just for a little longer, but he couldn’t.

“Okay.” Was all he said.

Ed seemed reluctant to move but pulled his hand out of Roy’s grip, slow like molasses. “I’ll see you around.” He stood, and all Roy could do was sit and metaphorically watch as Ed walked away.

“Wait.”

The door stopped mid-squeak. Ed was silent.

“Can we start again?” He asked.

Roy, despite the fact he couldn’t see, knew that Edward was smiling as he said, “I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

It took time.

Come Monday, just as Roy had expected, everyone seemed to know about his stint in the hospital. The whispers chased him as he walked the school corridors, conversations seeming to lull as the weight of what felt like a thousand stares landed on him. It made his gut churn with anxiety and his heart beat faster, but he just kept walking.

For once, Ed was already there when Roy arrived, and called out to him in greeting.

“How are you?” He asked.

“Fine.” Roy replied as he settled at his desk, shrugging his backpack off his shoulder. “You?”

“Better.”

They fell into an awkward silence that was only broken by a simple exchange of goodbyes when the bell rang. Roy listened to Ed walk away and couldn’t help the small smile that graced his face. It may have been small, but nevertheless, it was a start.

He somehow managed to find his own way to the super-secret lunch spot (which Havoc and Breda were thinking about filing a patent for), but by the time he arrived everyone else was already there. He settled in his usual place between Jean and Riza, the familiar itchy carpet soothing him as his heart pounded against his ribcage.

He needn’t have worried, however. Riza immediately drew him into a conversation about one of the books she’d given him, and that was how they spent the hour, with occasional breaks for eating. At the end, as the bell rang, he and Ed once again exchanged goodbyes, but that was all.

The months passed. Roy impulsively applied for University, at the behest of both Izumi and his foster parents. His grades slowly began to improve, and he saw some, if not all his friends most weekends. Sure, things could be better – he still dissociated, still had panic attacks and suicidal thoughts – but they were improving, bit by bit.

He and Ed slowly began to reform the relationship they once had. They started off with simple conversations at homeroom and lunch, but slowly began to move onto lengthier talks about school and other such topics. Now that Ed knew pretty much all of Roy’s tragic backstory, he found himself able to open up more to him, and Ed did the same in return. By the time March arrived, they’d met up a few times, just the two of them, and were texting pretty much every day. For the first time since he’d lived with Chris, Roy almost felt happy. He thought that maybe, the time would come soon.

And come it did. The second Saturday in March, the gang was over at Havoc’s house for his birthday. They’d had cake, played board games (Riza had trounced them all at monopoly, but Breda had pulled off a surprising Cluedo victory), and now were onto a movie marathon that was going to last until morning (or at least, that was the plan).

Half way through ‘Mulan’ they had been relocated into the garage, with Roy, Ed and Riza squashed onto a ragged yet plush sofa and the rest having to settle for the floor. Havoc, Breda and Riza had been sneaking drinks from a stolen bottle of whiskey all night, and by the time Mulan cut her hair Havoc and Breda were bawling into each other’s shoulders (Riza, it seemed, could handle her drink like a pro). Fuery had taken one sip of the whiskey and immediately spat it out again, and Falman, Ed and Roy had all declined, citing various reasons. They had all just finished an ear-splitting rendition of ‘I’ll make a man out of you’ when Ed put a tentative hand on Roy’s thigh.

They both froze, seemingly stunned by the move. The air swiftly turned stiff and awkward, and neither of them moved a muscle, only startling out of the trance when Fuery screeched as one of the two that had been drinking alcohol spilt said drink all over the floor. This seemed to be what they needed to begin to thaw; as the film progressed, Ed slowly began to rub small circles into Roy’s leg, then started lightly drumming the beat of ‘A girl worth fighting for’ as that song came and went. It was only when Ed gave the muscle a gentle squeeze did Roy reach breaking point.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” He announced, surprising himself.

“I’ll show you where it is.” Ed said, immediately standing up and pulling Roy to his feet. Before anyone could say a word, they were out of the room and practically running down the hallway.

Ed tugged him up a flight of stairs and then through a door. “This is actually the bathroom.” He said. “Just in case someone thinks I was lying to you.”

Roy laughed. The room went silent, but it was no longer awkward. Ed was close, almost as close as he had been on that night, his breathing barely audible but warm on Roy’s cheek.

“Are you sure you want this?” Roy murmured.

“I’ve wanted this for a while.” Ed replied simply, voice barely a whisper. “But now I know I’m ready.”

He didn’t know who leant in first, or who initiated the contact, but all at once they were kissing, light and soft. It was so much better than before – for one, Ed was reciprocating, his lips pressing back against Roy’s, his hand clutching desperately at Roy’s shirt, their hearts pounding in synchrony. It was chaste and sweet, nothing like he had ever read in books but so much better than he ever could have imagined. Then all of a sudden it wasn’t - Ed brushed his teeth against Roy’s bottom lip, causing him to groan slightly and open his mouth, which seemed to be all the invitation Ed needed to slip his tongue inside and oh, that felt better than he thought it would. Roy moved his hands around to the small of Ed’s back as the other looped his arms around Roy’s neck, and they both pulled each other closer at the same time. Ed sighed contently. Roy never wanted this moment to end; he wanted to stay in Havoc’s bathroom, simply existing with Ed like this for the rest of eternity.

Eventually though, it did have to end. Edward pulled away, a small strand of saliva clinging to his lip as he did and dripping against Roy’s chin. He grimaced, and Ed laughed, wiping it away then resting his head on Roy’s shoulder (which Roy hadn’t realised Ed was tall enough to even do). “We should probably go back before they send out a search party.” Ed murmured, voice muffled through Roy’s t-shirt.

“They’ll need to make sure you haven’t fallen down the toilet and drowned.”

“Was that a short joke? Because if so you’re dumped.”

Roy laughed, then quieted. “Is that what this is then?”

“If you want it to be, then sure.” Ed found his right hand, then slotted their fingers together. “I’m telling you now though, we can tell people, but not Hoenheim. At least, not until Al gets out of there. I don’t want to put him in danger any more than I already have.”

“That’s fine.” Roy said, finding that it was.

Ed sighed with relief, almost collapsing against Roy’s chest. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Roy said, running his free hand through Ed’s hair the best he could when it was tied back. “But we should get back before they actually do come looking for us.”

They made their return to the others, sneaking quick kisses in the corridor the best they could. They needn’t have bothered trying to hide it, however, because as soon as they walked through the door Riza announced “You all owe me 500 cenz.”

The rest of the group groaned, shuffling around to retrieve the change from their pockets.

“You bet on us?” Ed asked indignantly, tugging Roy back onto the loveseat.

“Of course.” Said Breda.

“Do you know us at all?” Asked Falman.

“Couldn’t you have waited a week?” Havoc grumbled. “I would have won twice as much then.”

“Fuck off.” Said Ed.

“Seconded.” Said Roy.

“You’re no fun.” Havoc replied, but it was said good-naturedly. “On my birthday and all! This is blatant heterophobia.”

“Shut up before I shoot you, birthday or no.” Riza said, and Fuery spluttered in an attempt to contain his laughter. That set the rest of them off, and soon they were all laughing again, the movie forgotten. In the chaos, Ed quickly pecked Roy’s cheek, and Roy could feel him smile onto his skin. It was infectious, and he found himself smiling back.

For the first time in a while, he was content.

Roy was rudely torn from sleep when a pillow hit his head.

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” Ed cried. Scout barked from her post at the end of the bed. “You’re gonna be late.”

“M’awake.” He murmured, pulling the pillow over his head as he turned away from Ed and curled up in a ball. Next thing he knew, the covers had been stripped away, leaving his skin exposed to the cold September morning, and Ed was half sprawled over his chest. “Why’d you do that?”

Ed laughed. “Because you’re going to be late for your first lecture.”

That woke him up and he shuddered, trying to sit up despite the heavy weight on his ribs. “Shit.” He needed to get dressed, and eat, because he was just starting to gain weight again, and find his way to the lecture hall when he still wasn’t quite acquainted with campus yet and-

Ed pushed him back down onto the bed. “Kidding.”

Roy was hit with a strong sense of relief, as well as the overwhelming feeling that he needed to kill Ed. “Fuck off.” He groaned, fully sitting up and shoving Ed away as hard as he could (which, admittedly, wasn’t very hard at all). “I hate you so much.”

“You’ve got about an hour and a half.” Ed supplied, simply tugging him closer so that Roy was practically sat in his lap. “Just thought you’d want to spend a little time with your loving boyfriend before you go off to learn how to be a douchebag for a living.”

Roy laughed, placing a hand on each of Ed’s cheeks. “Politics isn’t about learning how to be a douchebag. It just so happens that most politicians are douchebags. They’re not mutually exclusive. And I am probably minoring in Chemistry.” He added as an afterthought.

“There’s some hope for you then.”

“So, there are no chemists that are horrible people?”

Ed was silent for a second. “You’ve got me there.”

Roy laughed and gently stroked Ed’s cheek with his thumb, heart light and free. “I don’t even know if I want to be a politician.”

“If you do, you’ll be the first one that’s not a dick.” The other said, leaning in so that their mouths were almost touching, merely millimetres between them.

“And you’ll be a Nobel Prize winner.” He returned, smiling easily.

It was Ed’s turn to laugh. “Now I know that you’re trying to butter me up.”

“Is it working?”

In response Ed connected their lips, pushing Roy back down onto the bed and straddling him. “Always does.” He murmured between kisses.

Roy managed to lose himself in the feeling of their bodies together, as he always did - it seemed that kissing Ed would never get old. Each time felt like the first; the spark of electricity whenever their bodies touched, the way that Ed always seemed to know what he wanted, what he needed-

His hips rutted up involuntarily, and he revelled in the way Ed’s hardness felt pressed against his own, the way Ed’s breath hitched in response. He began to snake a hand down towards their erections, when Ed slapped it away and broke the kiss.

“You actually might be late if we keep going.” He admitted but ground his hips down into Roy’s anyway.

“You.” He moaned. “Are the worst.”

“I know.” Ed chirped.

“What time is it?” Roy asked, sitting up and unceremoniously shoving Ed off his lap. The other yelped in surprise, but since he didn’t hear a thud, Roy assumed he hadn’t actually fallen off the bed.

“Just past eight.”

He sighed. Ed was right – he really did need to get going. At this, Scout decided she wanted in and jumped up onto the bed to join them, pressing up against his side. Ever since his attempt she’d been more needy, reluctant to let him out of her sight for more than a few minutes at a time. It made having sex difficult, but they’d both sort of gotten used to having her in the room and she seemed content to just leave them be.

“Come on then, missus.” Ed cooed, scratching her ears. “Breakfast time.”

Before he could slide off to the kitchen, Roy quickly pressed their mouths together, running his hand over the hard muscle of Ed’s bicep. “I won’t be long.”

“I know.” Ed replied quietly, before moving away to put his prosthetics on. Roy lay there for a few more minutes, listening to him clatter about in the kitchen, before he forced himself to move and get dressed.

He didn’t need Scout inside their off-campus apartment, having already almost gotten used to the new layout after only a week or so of living here, but she followed him closely as he moved through his daily routine. She even followed him into the bathroom, guarding the door as he downed his meds and brushed his teeth. He hadn’t needed antibiotics since his tear-duct surgery at the beginning of the summer, and he was happy that he had a lot less medication to take now; even though it had been years he was still not used to taking pills, and probably never would be.

He found Ed in the kitchen, cooking what smelled like pancakes, the morning newscaster talking to himself in the background. “Smells delicious.”

“Shut up, I’m concentrating.”

Roy settled at the table and poured himself a glass of orange juice. “What time are you in today?”

“Not until ten.” Edward said, sounding like he was, in fact, concentrating very hard. “Got an intro lecture, then a lab all afternoon.”

“I finish at two.”

“I know.” Ed didn’t ask him if he’d be okay finding his way home on his own – he’d been there while Roy had roamed around campus for most of last week, trying to learn his way. It was yet another reason why he loved him. Ed could have gone to any University in the country, and yet he’d chosen this one, with Roy.

“One blueberry pancake.” Ed said, sliding said pastry onto a plate in front of Roy. “I hope you realise that I’m not doing this every morning.”

“Believe me, I know.”

Ed pulled out his chair across the table and settled into it. “You excited?”

“Mostly just nervous.” Roy admitted.

“Hey, it’ll be okay.” Ed placed his flesh hand on top of Roy’s right. “Most people at University aren’t assholes. And if they are, I’ll beat them up.”

Roy knew he was deadly serious and gave a weary sigh. “Please don’t stab them with your leg. Winry just made it for you.” Ed’s leg was one of those specialist running blades, the name of which always seemed to escape Roy. Winry had given it to him when she’d come to visit them in Central over the summer, and since then Ed seemed to be unstoppable. He also seemed to enjoy threatening people with it.

Ed groaned good-naturedly. “You take the fun out of everything.”        

They ate in comfortable silence, the weatherman droning on about the cold front that was apparently on its way, despite the fact it was early September. With a jolt, Roy realised it was his birthday at the end of the month. Time seemed to have flown by – it seemed only yesterday that he was completing last-minute applications for University, and now he was here (although he suspected the only reason he’d gotten in with grades like his was because he was blind, and he had a feeling that Izumi might have pulled some strings).

He’d known Ed for almost a year. They’d been dating for around six months.

“You need to get going.” The other said, picking up Roy’s empty plate.

He sighed, pushing out his chair and getting to his feet. “I suppose I do.”

“Is your bag packed?”

“Yes, mom.”

“Ugh, please don’t.” Ed cringed. “That throws this whole relationship into a different light.”

Roy laughed again and pulled Ed in for another quick kiss. “I’ll text you after my lectures are done.”

“Remember to eat lunch.” The other said, smoothing a light hand over the scar tissue near Roy’s eyes.

“You sure you’re not my mum?”

Ed shoved him away. “Ugh, just go.”

“Love you.” Roy quickly kissed his hand and could practically feel Ed’s blush.

“Love you too, asshole. Now go!” Roy was practically shoved out of the front door, bag and Scout’s harness shoved into his hands at the last minute.

Everything wasn’t quite perfect. They still both had bad days, days when Ed awoke crying from nightmares and when Roy couldn’t get out of bed, the memories too much to handle, days when they snapped at each other about nothing, both tired and overwhelmed. Ed still wasn’t out to his father, wanting to wait until Al had left before doing anything. That meant they still had another year of lying whenever Hoenheim called and deflecting excuses of why he couldn’t visit, another year of pretending that they didn’t live together, pretending that they meant nothing to each other.

However, Roy’s foster parents had accepted him with open arms, claiming to have known the two would end up together the whole time. They’d formally adopted him in May, and Roy talked to them on the phone every day. They also financed his University tuition, even though they had a kid of their own on the way. Izumi too, seemed happy for them, inviting them both over for dinner at her house more than once, now that she was no longer either of their therapists. Roy had finally met her husband, who according to Ed was ‘scarily built’, but had seemed nice enough. And of course, their friends had been nothing but supportive (even if they did have to endure almost constant teasing about PDA, which meant that threats of murder were commonplace).

He was around half way to his lecture when his phone buzzed with a new message. By the time he had arrived and settled in a seat at the front of the room, Scout plonking herself protectively on his feet, there were around twenty new messages on the group chat (which Roy had eventually joined after being forced to set up a whatsapp account by Havoc and Breda).

NEW MESSAGES FROM: ROY MUSTANG’S ASS RESEARCH COUNCIL

RIZA - ‘hey mustango (and also ed i guess) , friendly reminder were coming to east city for ur birthday next weekend’

HAVOC - ‘o shit i completely forgot’

FUERY – ‘lol rip’

HAVOC – ‘dont worry ill figure smth out with my boss’

BREDA – ‘you better m8’

HAVOC – ‘wot the fuk u saying breda, ill fight u irl’

ED <3 – ‘guys of course we remembered, who do you think we are?’

VATO – ‘There better be cake’

ED <3 – ‘once again, who do you think we are?’

HAVOC – ‘gay’

ED <3 – ‘wow so funny, u should go into comedy instead of msuci’

ED <3 – ‘music’

FUERY – ‘msuci’

BREDA – ‘msuci’

HAVOC – ‘msuci’

RIZA – ‘msuci’

ED <3 – ‘FGHJFHGJJS SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I’LL MOVE BACK TO CENTRAL AND FIGHT EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU’

ROY – ‘Please don’t’

ROY – ‘And also we had remembered, and I also remember a promise that a certain girlfriend would be brought along >:3c’

HAVOC – ‘we should have never taught him emojis’

BREDA – ‘life was a mistake’

RIZA – ‘rebecca is coming don’t worry’

RIZA – ‘she said, and i quote, ‘i wouldn’t miss out on meeting ur weird ass friends for anything’’

FUERY – ‘what does she mean, weird?’

VATO – ‘Have you met us’

FUERY – ‘fair’

ED <3 – ‘als also bringing gf btw’

BREDA – ‘WHAT’

HAVOC – ‘WHAT’

FUERY – ‘WHAT’

VATO – ‘I didn’t know Alphonse had a girlfriend. Congrats’

ROY – ‘neither did I? Edward??’

ED <3 – ‘he literally just told me cool ur jets bby’

RIZA- ‘give us the deets’

ED <3 – ‘her names may, goes to letos with him but is in the year below. joined daa bc her step sister-in-law has a missing arm or smth convoluted like that’

FUERY- ‘awww’

HAVOC – ‘no, alphonse is Pure and Sweet and Innocent’

BREDA – ‘A Beautiful Cinnamon Roll, Too Good For This World, Too Pure’

HAVOC CHANGED THE GROUP NAME TO: ALPHONSE ELRIC DEFENCE SQUAD

ROY – ‘thank God I hated that old name’

ROY – ‘got to go lecture starting’

At that, he put his earbuds away and let his phone buzz merrily away in his pocket. No one had sat next to him and he could hear a couple of people whispering, probably about him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He’d heard it all before.

The lecturer clapped his hands to announce the start of the lecture, and Roy got out his voice recorder. Just as he was about to press start, someone slipped quietly into the seat on his right.

“I’m Alex.” The voice said quietly. It was deep but familiar, and it took Roy a couple of seconds to realise where he knew it from.

His hand stilled in Scout’s fur. “Holy shit.”

“Do I know you?” Alex asked. “It’s just you look rather familiar.”

“Kinda? Er, we met a long time ago, I was reading a braille book and-“

“Roy Mustang!” The voice boomed, and he felt himself being swept up in a crushing hug. The lecturer hissed at them to be quiet and Roy was eventually let go, feeling like his ribs were bruised. “I often wondered what had happened to you.” Alex said, a lot quieter this time but still only slightly below normal talking volume.

“I got moved away.” Roy said simply. “But what about you? What are you studying?”

“I stayed in West City until I moved here for my studies. I’m studying Ancient History but minoring in Politics. What about you?”

“Politics with a minor in Chemistry.” Roy shrugged, stroking Scout’s head to comfort her. “Do you want to get lunch together to catch up?”

“That would be wonderful!” Alex cried, and then seemed to cringe at his own volume.

Roy tried to listen to what the lecturer was saying, having switched his voice recorder on after they agreed to lunch, but couldn’t help zoning out a little bit. The lecture seemed to drag on, and he had to often stop himself from falling asleep, the lecturer seeming to make the basic structure of the Government even more boring than it actually was. Eventually though, it did finish, and they made their way to a small café just outside the Student’s Union. Alex was part way through a story about his sister’s run in with a bear when Roy heard his name being called.

“Hey.” Ed greeted, sliding into the seat on Roy’s left and giving Scout a quick scratch. “Who’s this?”

“I thought you had a lecture?”

“They finished early. Oh my God it was so boring, he seemed to know nothing about basic protein structure and-“ Ed cut himself off, seeming to realise they had company. “Anyway, I had time before lab starts, so I thought I’d come and eat outside.”

“This is Alex Armstrong. We used to be friends when I was like eleven, do you remember me telling you?”

“Oh shit, that Alex.” Ed gasped. “You are not what I was expecting. In a good way though! Just, ugh, it’s nice to meet you.”

Alex seemed amused. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Alex, this is Edward. My boyfriend.” Roy added, sliding his left hand into Ed’s right and giving it a squeeze. He could feel Ed’s smile and imagined it would be practically blinding.

“Yup, boyfriend. We’re boyfriends, me and him.” Ed rambled. “Boyfriends.”

Roy laughed. “Yes, boyfriends.”

“It is nice to see that Roy has found someone.” Alex said, sounding genuinely pleased for them.

“Nah, he found me.” Ed said.

“We found each other.” Roy smiled.

Nothing would ever be perfect. Maes and his parents were never coming back, his sight was gone forever, as would Ed’s limbs. There would still be nightmares waking him at 3am, still be days where the pain was overwhelming, days where he couldn’t cope with the memories. They would still have their fights, and the threat of Ed’s father finding out about their relationship loomed over them every day. But he had his adoptive parents, Izumi, Scout, his friends, and Ed. So maybe, things would be better.

Ed squeezed his hand and pulled him in for a quick kiss, smiling against his lips. Roy felt himself smiling back.

Yeah, they’d be okay.

Magnesium is a chemical element with the symbol Mg and atomic number 12. It is a shiny grey solid, has a +2 oxidation state and is the and the eighth most abundant element in the earth’s crust. Magnesium is highly flammable, and when it burns in air, it produces a characteristic brilliant-white light.