Title: Call Me ~ EdRoy
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Warnings: Aaaaaaangst, character death, underage relationship, established relationship, implication of torture
Summary: Edward had been missing for four days.

Disclaim Her: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Arakawa Hiromu and various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: From a list of (drabble) prompts on tumblr, an anonymous user requested Break Me or Call Me (angst) with EdxRoy.
Since 'angsty call me' is slightly more specific than just 'break me', I went with 'call me', officially, but it's technically both. So.

Posting for 520/RoyEd Day, because that's half the reason I went asking for prompts.

Tissues at the ready?

-0-

Four days.

Roy grit his teeth and firmly looked away from the silent reminder of the calendar.

Edward had been missing for four days, and the only lead they had was his red jacket, torn in multiple places and soaked with blood, and their own certainty that, if he could, they'd have heard from him by now.

Alphonse had taken up residence on one of Roy's couches sometime on day two, and hadn't actually moved since, not even to shift position. Roy would occasionally try engaging him in conversation, if for no other reason than making sure his soul was still attached to the armour, and he knew his team's pointed greetings any time one of them entered his office were for the same reason. Alphonse, thankfully, seemed to understand he needed to respond to keep them from panicking any more than they already were.

Roy tried to focus on the paperwork that always piled up on his desk, whether he was dealing with a missing State Alchemist or no. As much as he wanted to be out with Havoc, Breda, and Riza, doing everything in his power to hunt down Edward, he knew he was far more useful getting at least some of the constant paperwork done. Likely, Alphonse had remained behind for a similar reason: There was no way either of them would be rational if they came across whoever had hurt Edward and stolen him away without a trace.

Which, well, it was pretty obvious to everyone why Alphonse would have that problem, but Roy was so unspeakably grateful that none of his team had thought to ask after his own reason, because he wasn't certain he had sufficient energy to come up with a plausible lie; it was bad enough he was sleeping with his underage subordinate, but making any of his team complicit in his crime would be beyond unforgivable.

His phone rang while he was rereading the second paragraph of the third piece of paperwork, and Roy picked up up without any real interest, having already spent four days getting used to the phone never delivering good news. "Mustang," he stated, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

"Sir," Havoc said from the other end, voice uncommonly seriously, and Roy felt himself tensing automatically, "we found him. You and Al'd better get down here."

"Where?" Roy demanded as he shoved himself to his feet.

Havoc rattled off an address that was on the other side of the river and a fair way downstream, in an area of town that was practically a part of the slums.

"Alphonse," Roy called as he hung up and started around his desk.

"Did they find him?" Alphonse asked, nearly pleaded, sounding every bit as young as he really was.

"Yes," Roy said, couldn't bring himself to pass on the grim warning in Havoc's tone.

He made Fuery drive them, because he didn't trust himself, and it said a lot about how worried the rest of his team was, that he didn't have to constantly coax the sergeant major – usually an extremely nervous driver – into driving at a reasonable speed.

Havoc had clearly called the military police first, because they were already in evidence, and a couple had a man in handcuffs. As much as Roy wanted to go over there and throttle the man, Havoc was waiting for them with a grim expression, jacket missing and no sign of a cigarette. "Stay here, Fuery," he suggested once they'd reached him, not a one of them playing at decorum.

"But–" Fuery started.

"Stay here," Havoc repeated, before turning and leading the way into the building.

Roy nodded to Fuery, backing up Havoc's order, then motioned for Alphonse to go ahead of him, which the boy did without a word of thanks, clearly far too worried to bother with his usual politeness; Roy understood.

Havoc led them down to the basement of the house, which looked to have been dug after the house was built, or else the walls and floor had been broken away until only dirt was left, for some inexplicable reason, and it smelt like blood and decay. A table had been knocked over, and instruments that Roy didn't want to look too closely at were scattered across the muddy ground in a way that suggested they'd originally been on the table. Weak lanterns were spread through the room, casting plenty of light to see decomposing body parts half-buried in dirt piles scattered around the room, as well as the gleam of an automail arm and leg, both detached and streaked with blood.

"Brother," Alphonse cried, sounding like the word had been torn from his soul.

Roy followed the turn of his helmet and found the boy he'd foolishly let talk him into a relationship, resting back against one of the slanted walls. Even without having spotted the automail already, it would have been obvious that both pieces had been removed, as Edward was naked save Havoc's missing jacket, which had been laid over him to preserve his modesty, by all appearances. He was also far too pale in the glow from the lanterns, save his hair, which looked to have been completely covered in mud.

Edward's lips were moving, and it wasn't until Roy had taken a few more steps forward, past where Alphonse had frozen, that he recognised his own name and Alphonse's, mouthed on a loop. "Edward?" he called, couldn't get his mouth around the code name that he'd always used to provide distance in public.

The mouthing stopped for a long moment, before Edward's eyes opened, the familiar gold irises oddly fogged over.

Something sick climbed up Roy's throat, and he found himself moving forward on autopilot, dropping to his knees next to Edward with a wet noise, the mud under him quickly starting to soak into his uniform trousers. "Ed," he whispered, his voice coming out ruined in a way that was far too telling, but this–

Alphonse knelt on Edward's other side, armour rattling far too loud in the dead stillness of the basement. "Brother," he whispered, reaching out and not quite touching Edward's face, as though afraid he'd break him.

Edward's smile was a twisted, heart-breaking sort of thing, and he rasped, "I'm sorry...that I can't...keep my...promise."

Alphonse rattled as he shook his head so hard, Roy wouldn't have been surprised if his helmet fell off. And then he let out a sound that wasn't unlike a sob, and the hand that had been reaching for Edward drew away, curling into a fist, before he rushed to his feet with a clatter of metal-on-metal.

"Roy," Edward rasped, and he couldn't have kept from meeting those dimming eyes if he'd wanted to. "I love...you. Take care...of Al."

"I will," Roy promised, reaching out and completing the action Alphonse hadn't been able to do, cupping Edward's cheek and barely managing to hold back a broken noise at how cold his skin was. As though he'd already died, but his ghost had been holding on just long enough to say goodbye.

Edward's mouth turned up with a grateful smile as his eyes – usually so bright and alive – emptied of life.

A clatter of metal and Havoc shouting, "Al!" drew Roy away from his grief, and he turned to find Alphonse fallen in the middle of the floor, his helmet having rolled off and knocked into Edward's discarded automail. As Roy watched, Havoc shook Alphonse's shoulder, and the arm fell right off, as if there was nothing holding the armour together any more.

Roy turned back to Edward's dead eyes as realisation joined grief in mauling the ruins of his heart: They'd lost both Elric brothers.

Roy would never be able to keep his final promise to Edward.

.