"Colonel!"

Al didn't know if he could squeak, but he just proved to himself that he could.

"Um, I don't mean to be rude, Colonel Mustang, but what are you doing here?"

Roy smirked more to himself than anyone else.

"I've come to check on Fullmetal, Alphonse. He didn't sound very well and I take my subordinates' health very close to heart."

"Er… well, sir, brother is generally very…"

"AL! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING TO?!"

"Pissy?" Roy finished with a quiet chuckle.

"Well, yes, when he's ill." Al averted his eyes.

"He must be a handful to handle then. Do you need some help?"

Ed would've shot Al if he'd seen his brother nod vigorously and spout his thanks to the Colonel.

"Oh, and Colonel?"

"Mhmm?"

"Would you… like a towel?"

Roy looked down at the puddles of rainwater he was leaving on the apartment's cream-coloured carpet.

"Yes, please, if you would be so kind. Sorry about the carpet…"

With a snap of gloved fingers, the carpet was dry.

Al clambered off to retrieve a towel, and Roy peeled off his coat.

'An umbrella would most likely have been a good idea,' Roy muttered inwardly.

"Here you go, Colonel!"

A fluffy pink towel was thrown in his general direction, and Roy caught it easily, beginning to dry himself off.

He gracefully towelled out his hair, then wrung the water out of his clothing.

"Thank you, Alphonse. Is it still dangerous or can I see your hellion—er, brother?" Roy's trademark smirk appeared at his slip.

"Be careful, sir." Al's warning was all he could give.

Roy carefully pushed open the door to Ed's bedroom.

"Al?"

"No, Ed, it's me."

"Mustang?"

Roy winced at the use of his surname. He approached the bed almost silently, though deliberately making some noise so as not to alarm the sick boy on beneath the blankets.

He removed his gloves in a rare display of voluntary vulnerability, and gently felt Edward's tanned forehead. The teen's face was flushed up to his hair, a slight sweat gathered on his brow. Poor Ed was shifting uncomfortably every few minutes, fists clenched and jaw tight with pain.

"Your fever is very high, Ed," Roy whispered soothingly, "I'm going to try to bring it down."

Ed made a noncommittal, incomprehensible sound and leaned in to Roy's cool touch. The Flame Alchemist's flesh was chilled from the rain.

Bright eyes opened to look up at the Colonel.

"Don't leave me," he murmured softly, golden eyes pleading.

"I won't." 'I don't want to, ever.'

Gold bangs were damp with fever heat, and Roy brushed the moist hair away from Ed's flickering eyelids.

"Just rest, Ed," he said affectionately, amazed at how loving his voice could sound.

'I love you more than anything in the world...'

The elder Elric shifted a little closer to the Flame Alchemist.

Turning his attention to the basin of water beside the bed, Roy dipped the tip of a pale, ungloved finger into the liquid before frowning.

'Too warm.'

He quickly drew a circle in the condensation, and transmuted the water into ice.

Putting on his gloves, Roy snapped once, and held the flame just above the frozen water. It melted bit by bit, until there was just enough water for Roy to soak the rag.

Removing the gloves again, the older alchemist gently placed the cold cloth directly onto Ed's forehead, and the blonde let out a small sigh of relief.

"How did you get yourself sick, Edward?" Roy asked lightly, though his tone was deeply worried.

"Walking home from Central."

Short, breathless answer.

"You walked home in the rain?" Roy frowned. How could such a genius do something so stupid and make him worry so goddamned much?

"Had to make it home… Al would've been… upset… if I was late."

'I think he'd prefer you home late than sick. I would prefer you had been late than sick…'

Edward's mind was in a blurry haze of fever and delirium, though he took comfort in the coolness radiating from the cloth on his forehead and the comforting presence of the Colonel.

'Why does he care so much?' the teen thought, senses muddled. His head hurt, he felt like jelly, and he was just too warm.

Roy was kneeling beside him, elbows resting on the edge of the bed. Whenever Ed made a small noise of discomfort, he whispered soft, sweet words to calm him and soaked the warmed rag in the ice water to replace it on the fevered skin.

Hours passed, and soon the very early morning darkness gave way to the soft light of the approaching dawn.

"Colonel?"

With a cough, Roy looked up at Al with vision blurred with sleep.

'I guess I dozed off a bit,' he thought wearily.

"Good morning, Alphonse."

"Are you alright, Colonel?" Al peered curiously, or as curiously as he could, at Roy. The Flame Alchemist's hair was still damp, beads of moisture clinging to the ends of ebony strands, and little spikes were poking out in all different directions. The man's eyes were unfocused, and his pale skin was marked red where his face pressed into the folds of the blankets.

"Yes," Roy tried to hide a badly stifled yawn, "Thank you for your concern."

His eyes went immediately back to the sleeping boy on the bed.

"Brother's fever broke about half an hour ago, sir," Al said respectively.

"That's very good to hear. Thank you, Alphonse." Then Al saw, for the first time, a truly happy and very relieved smile grace the alchemist's lips.

"Y-You can call me Al, Colonel," Al announced, looking as embarrassed as metal possibly could.

Another genuine smile came to Roy's features at Al's suggestion.

"Thank you, Alph—Al. Likewise, I'd prefer if you called me Roy outside the office."

"Will do, Col—Uh, Roy."

"Can you both SHUT THE HELL UP?!"

Both heads turned to the somewhat irate teen on the bed.

"Your inane conversation is disturbing my sleep," the blonde shouted.

"Brother, you don't have to be so upset." Al was exasperated and annoyed at the same time.

'He's so cute when he's flustered,' Roy thought, smirking at the older blonde.

"WHAT ARE YOU SMIRKING AT, BASTARD?"

"No one, Fullmetal."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THEY SHOULD BE CONSID—"

Ed's usual rant was cut off by Roy's lips effectively silencing his.

'He's so soft and warm and beautiful and dry and smells so good…'

Neither noticed Al's muffled laughter.

"As you were saying, Fullmetal?"

"Hmm?" Ed looked dazed and blissful.

"Oh, nothing." Roy smiled to himself and stood up. He instantly regretted doing so when his knees protested at the action.

'Probably shouldn't have fallen asleep kneeling down…' he thought with a grimace.

"I'll be going, then," he announced to the Elrics, flashing a smirk and turning around.

"Hey!"

Roy pivoted to see Ed sitting up in the bed.

"Yes, Edward?"

'You said you wouldn't leave me! I haven't told you I love you yet!'

"Nevermind. See you later."

Puzzled, Roy nodded and left.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hawkeye had been nothing short of shocked when Roy sauntered into the office, whistling a tuneless song, and hummed as he sat behind his desk and signed papers. It was strange for the man to have such… out of character moments.

"Are you alright sir?" Hawkeye raised her gaze heavenward and counted slowly to ten.

"Quit worrying about me, lieutenant," Roy said, almost making it sound like an order.

"I'm fine, if you're still wondering," he added with a light-hearted smirk.

"Sir, with all due respect, I think you're letting Edward interfere with your work." Hawkeye had meant it as a joke, but really, her sarcasm was often missed because her tone differed very slightly from her usual clipped syllables.

She certainly didn't expect Roy to freeze.

"Riza?" he said softly.

"Sir, I honestly didn't mean—"

"Am I really that obvious?" Roy looked up at her, his eyes sincere and clearly worried. For someone who normally hid his feelings and emotions so well, keeping up a cold, uncaring façade for so long… it startled the gun-wielding blonde into speechlessness.

"Well, only the people who know you well enough have figured it out, Roy," she started slowly, "Like myself, Havoc, and Armstrong."

"I—I see. Thank you, lieutenant."

He thanked whatever god allowed him the luck of having her turn and walk away before she noticed how badly his hand was trembling.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Every night. Every fucking night.

The dreams would always come back for him.

Ed ran a hand through his tangled hair, cursing a little more loudly.

The gate his mother Al—wait… where was Al?

"Al?"

"Over here, brother!"

'He's still here… He's okay.'

Ed's eyes darkened.

'As okay as a suit of armour will ever be.'

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Every night. Every single night.

Ishbal ruins fire death blood children screaming soldiers lost parents women mothers Rockbells Marco snapping murder heat red red red red red…

Roy didn't even call them nightmares anymore. He called them penance.

Each time he relived a moment where he burned a child to death, he realized just how heavy his sins were. Every dream where he saw the faces of his friends lying in the mud, eyes open, unseeing, and glassy, blood everywhere… he knew he was never going to be forgiven.

The barrel of his gun seemed so much more appealing.

And there was no Hughes to stop him now, was there?

More dreams… Hughes, dead… Hawkeye, killed… Havoc, murdered… Edward…

Roy forced himself out of that train of thought.

So much blood.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Gah!"

"Sorry brother, didn't mean to scare you…"

"SCARE me? God, Al! You nearly KILLED me!" Ed hung his head as he fought to calm his racing heart.

Just where did Al get off jumping out of nowhere and—

"We're at Central, brother."

Oh.

"Right… Well, let's go then, Al. We'd better not be late, otherwise Hawkeye will make us an appointment with her gun…"

"Sure thing, brother!"

'Why is he such a morning person?'

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ring ring. Ring ring.

Roy sighed in frustration.

'Please… let it stop… agh, whoever it is that's calling, go swallow a knife before I burn you to death…'

"SIR! I think you might want to PICK IT UP before you MELT the damned thing!"

Havoc's voice was not soothing in the least.

The ringing had already worn enough on Roy's frayed nerves, so he finally picked it up. Forcing his voice to be cool and calm, he spoke into the receiver.

"Hello, Mustang speaking."

"Took you long enough, Colonel. I think I should have you fired for your tardiness in everything that you do."

Bradley's voice was acid to Roy's ears.

"Ahem, sorry sir."

"Doesn't matter. I will carry out that little suggestion should I see fit, Mustang, but right now I have more pressing matters to attend to."

"And what might those matters have to do with me, sir?" 'I hate you.'

"Oh, they have everything to do with you, Roy."

Roy lifted the receiver away from his mouth as he swallowed hard. His fingers began to shake, and he could feel cold sweat collecting on his brow.

A soft knock on the door interrupted him.

"Sorry, sir. Could you please hold on for a moment?"

"Make it quick, Mustang."

Glaring at the phone, Roy called out, "Come in!"

A bowed blonde head shuffled into the room.

"Good morning Fullmetal. If you could just wait a moment, I'm in the midst of a phone call."

Edward looked slightly hurt at Roy brushing him off, 'Not even giving me a proper greeting… che, bastard,' but the look soon turned into a death glare as he sat down on the couch opposite Roy's desk and waited. He tried to make it look as if he were interested on the painting hanging above the door, and not listening to the conceited bastard's phone conversation, but he was failing miserably.

"My apologies, Fuhrer."

"I've heard some rumours about you and Fullmetal, Mustang. I hope none of them are true, for your sakes."

"Y-Yes sir."

Ed didn't do a very good job at hiding his surprise for the uncertain tone of Roy's voice and the slight stutter he was emitting.

Roy's eyes were unfocused and wide, he was shaking, dark hair clinging to the cold sweat on his smooth, pale forehead…

The gloved hand holding the phone was unsettled with tremors, obsidian pupils dilated in… fear?

"Roy? Is everything okay?"

Roy graced Ed with a soft smile he hoped was reassuring, and brought a trembling finger to his lips.

"I should definitely hope you're not fooling around with your subordinates, Mustang."

"No sir."

While the conversation was going on, Ed could do little else but look worriedly between Roy and the phone, only imagining what could be said on the other line.

'The day Mustang is shaking in his boots is the day hell freezes over and Al and I go skating on it.'

"I think I'll have Fullmetal transferred. You know, for your own good."

Mustang froze.

"I-I… B-but… Ed—Fullmetal…"

Ed walked up to Roy's desk. The Colonel was now standing, but leaning heavily on his desk as his knees wobbled dangerously. Those dark, unfocused eyes flicked up to Ed's face. The Colonel's slender body was shivering—shaking. His thin dark eyebrows were furrowed in what looked like pain or something akin to it.

"Y-yes sir. G-goodb-bye."

His hands shook more violently when he hung up.

The entire situation didn't sit well with Edward.

"What was that about?" he demanded fiercely.

"Where's Al? You two are borderline Siamese," Roy responded, avoiding the blonde's question. He still seemed zoned out, distant and under carefully calculated 'normalcy'.

'I don't think I can live without you.'

"Don't ignore me, you bastard!"

Roy's eyes were still detached, and Ed's anger dissipated, dissolved in his original worry.

"Please, Roy, tell me what happened."

Dark eyes snapped into normal sharpness, the dazed haziness gone, leaving the cool, emotionless expression to deal with the predicament.

"You're being transferred, Fullmetal. As to where and when, I don't know."

"WHAT?!"

"It's unfortunate, but necessary."

'Doesn't he care?' Ed's inner voice was furious but tearful, and he refused to allow it to show.

"How can you be so CALM, you fucking liar? You went on and on about how you cared, you fucking kissed me, and suddenly it doesn't mean anything?"

Tears had gathered on honey-coloured lashes.

Roy choked down his own tears, not allowing his true feelings to show. He was so used to hiding how he felt, that it was so easy to keep his face cold and his demeanour uncaring.

"Sorry to say, Fullmetal, but yes. None of that matters anymore."

'It matters! It means everything to me! You mean everything to me!'

The tears began to fall, and the hurt and betrayal was written plainly all over Edward's face.

"I have nowhere else to go!"

"That is not the state's problem, Elric."

Roy winced at the coldness of his own voice.

'I LOVE you, Roy! How can you do this to me?'

"Fuck you. I can't believe I thought I had feelings for you," Ed spat, his voice venomous and scathing.

The pain emanating from Ed was etched into Roy's scarred heart, seared into his soul so that he may never forget it, as long as he lived, and so he added it as one more thing to haunt him in his restless sleep at night.

"Your feelings are of no importance." Roy felt like he was drowning in Ed's pain. His chest felt tight, he couldn't breathe, his blood was pounding in his ears… his heart was beating too goddamned loud.

"I hate you."

'I love you I love you I love you…' Ed hated himself for still loving that callous, bullshitting Colonel…

'I love you so much, Edward… It hurts so much to see your pain like this…' Roy hated himself for making Ed cry, making him suffer… he so badly wanted to die, to bleed for every tear he caused Edward to shed.

"I don't need you and your shit, Colonel. I never needed you."

'I do need you! Please don't let me leave… I need you, Roy!'

The hurt glinted softly in Roy's eyes for a split-second, a split-second when he didn't have his emotions in check. He couldn't allow himself to be vulnerable, he had to seem strong. He couldn't let Ed leave thinking he was weak.

'Ah, but weak you are.'

The voices in Roy's head wouldn't shut up.

Ed's stomach was twisting in his gut, his head was killing him. He wanted to be out of there now.

'Please don't leave, Ed… I need you here, I can't live without you… I love you more than anything else! I'd give up anything for you!'

Roy wished he could breathe.

'Please say no.'

"I'll be seeing you, then." Ed gathered up his guts from where they'd strewn themselves all over the floor, shoved them down his throat, and forced his mouth to work.

In a flash of red and gold, the prodigy was gone.

Roy couldn't deal with the thought of never seeing him again.

'Why can't I breathe?'

The Flame Alchemist collapsed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Who are you?" an innocent little child looked up at him with young, naïve eyes that seemed to big for her face.

She hung tightly onto her doll, sitting beside the charred corpse of her mother.

"Do you know why mommy's not waking up?"

A snap, a burst of flames, and the child's body began to bleed on top of her mother's.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Stop! Please!"

The few words Roy could understand in the language of Ishbal, since he'd heard them so much.

"Spare us! We're innocent!"

More words he knew the meanings of, but paid no heed to. He'd heard them too many times.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Damn you Amestris! You cold-blooded killers! Damn you all—"

The man never finished his sentence, once the flames engulfed him.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Armies of uniformed soldiers devoured by fire, their agonized screams and the smell of cooking flesh and singed hair filling the air, choking the life out of the living…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Will! Hang in there!"

"There's no point, Roy. I'm not going to—"

Roy screamed when his friend's disembodied arm collided with his back.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"No one loves a killer."

The last words of the burning woman never left him.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Rotting corpses, bloody battlefields, dead comrades, friends…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"How the fuck can you be so cold?"

That was Edward's voice. The teen had been haunting his dreams more often than naught lately…

"I don't need you."

"No one needs you."

"You don't deserve to live."

"You thought I loved you? Ha! That's a joke, Colonel."

Why was Ed saying this to him? Roy bit his lip.

"You have no idea how much you hurt me, do you?"

"No, I don't. I'm sorry, Ed… I love you! I don't want you to feel any pain…" Roy's lip began to bleed.

"I don't care. It doesn't matter."

'Don't say it doesn't matter,' Roy thought, 'Please don't say it doesn't matter…'

"I hate you."

The blood was so dark against Roy's milky skin, the red on white…

'I hate me too.'

Pale skin was meant to be painted with blood—no matter how hard you washed, you couldn't get the stains off of it.

Roy saw the stains of his hands, and scrubbed hard to try and get them off.

The blood—of children, men, and women alike—wouldn't wash out of his skin.

And Edward's tears couldn't be erased from his mind.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

bffimagine: The beautiful, delicious ANGST! Yay!

Sorry, late update… I know, I know, there are more than 3 reviews so far, and everyone's been GRILLING me (GAH!) to finish this chapter… sorry, everyone. I'm really, really slow.

3 reviews is an update! (Hopefully…)