The Words

The words echoed in Edward's head.

"Tell me where the Stone is!"

"I don't have it and even if I did I wouldn't tell you, bastard!" No, Edward needed it himself, more than anything.

He felt a fist against his face and a sound of a closing door before the world went black again.

Ed stepped out of the train. He was one of the few people arriving to Central on that early morning. He looked at the sky; it was raining and it was still dark. His delicate body shook as the first rain drops touched his face. He walked to the station building as quickly as he could. He didn't have anything else than the clothes he wore with him. Ed let his eyes scan the faces of people standing and waiting for someone. He wasn't there. Of course not. How would he know he was coming back? Edward wished he would be still waiting for him, somewhere, regardless. He would find out soon.

Edward walked through the rain. As he passed familiar military buildings, a strong feeling of longing and missing filled his mind. He never thought he would miss Central so much. Ed had been away for longer times before, but never before had he thought he might not be here again. And then there was Roy. Would he forgive him? He had been selfish going without telling him, but he had had to. He had no other choice, and Roy would have stopped him. It was dangerous, but Ed had chosen that path long ago and nothing was going to stop him from achieving the seemingly impossible. But even though he knew he hadn't had any other choice that didn't stop Ed missing Roy. Roy was Ed's reason to come back. As he walked the rain began to subside slowly. The air was fresh and easy to breath. Soon mist formed everywhere reminding Ed of morning fields in Resembool.

He wondered whether Roy had found his letters. Did they bring him any comfort? Did they help him move on? As much as it had hurt Ed to help Roy move on in case something happened to him, he knew it was for the best.

Edward stopped at the door. After a moment of hesitation, he opened it. He was nervous. Maybe Roy didn't want him back anymore.

It was dark. All the curtains seemed to be tightly closed, stopping any morning light coming in, keeping the new day arm length away. Ed closed the door quietly and walked into the house. It was as though nothing had changed. He switched the lights on. His shirt was on the armrest the sofa, his coat hanging on a hook in the hall, his coffee cup on the kitchen counter and his book on the table. It was as though everything was like he left it. Edward felt guilty. Had Roy not found his letters? Edward didn't want Roy to stay in the past; he should have put his clothes away. Even though he was back now…

Slowly Ed moved to the bedroom. The door was open and the room was just as dark as the rest of the house had been. And there he was: curled on the bed, on top of the covers, wearing his uniform and heavy overcoat. Ed sat on the edge of the bed on placed his hand on his shoulder. Edward frowned. Roy's clothes were damp. He stroked his cheek gently, his skin was hot.

"Roy," he whispered.

Roy twitched restlessly.

Edward looked at him. Even in his sleep he looked older, worried and he wasn't looking after himself.

"I'll never leave you again," Ed said.

Roy shivered and curled up even more. "Shhh." Ed touched his face, let his fingers trace along his jaw and lips. "Everything will be all right."

A small smile appeared on Roy's face. "I love you, Ed."

Those were the words Ed had wanted to hear while being away. Worried he would never hear them again.

"Come back," Roy mumbled.

"I'm just here." Ed kissed his forehead. "What have you done to yourself? You're burning hot," he mumbled.

Ed pulled a blanket from the foot of the bed and put it over Roy's shivering frame. Then he lay down next to him. He just looked at Roy for a few minutes, running his hands up and down his back. Slowly, Roy opened his eyes.

"Time to wake up, Roy." Ed smiled.

"Ed? Is that you?"

"Of course it's me."

"But what? How?"

"I took the morning train."

Roy looked confused. "Just when I wasn't there."

"Roy, we need to get you out of these wet clothes. I think you're getting sick."

"But, Ed? What happened?"

"Shh. Let's talk about that later."

Normally, Roy wouldn't have let him get away like that. Normally, he would have shouted at him for doing something stupid and dangerous. He would have demanded answers, but now he could barely focus his eyes on Ed. Roy let Ed help him sit up and undress him. Ed tucked him tightly under the covers. Then he undressed himself and crawled next to Roy.

"I got your letters," Roy whispered.

"I'm glad," Ed said. "And I'm sorry."

Roy curled up again, pulling Ed close to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around his lover. Ed signed content, not caring that Roy's arms squeezed his slowly healing bruises and wounds, not caring that Roy's skin was burning him like fire. His fire. All he cared about was that he was back, everything was going to be all right and he would never have to leave again. He let out a half cry, half giggle purely out of relief. "I love you, too," he whispered into Roy's ear.

"I still think this is a dream," Roy said, before falling asleep again.

As the morning light crept into the room from behind the curtains, Ed saw a pile of neatly folded letters on the floor next to the bed. He smiled.