Roy left the bedroom, fingers trailing along the walls of the hallway in an attempt to guide himself toward the kitchen. The sound of clawed feet bounding across hardwood reached his ears, and a furry head pressed against his leg. He smiled fondly, fingers petting soft fur.

"Wanna go out, Tristan?" He asked the animal conversationally as they entered the kitchen.

The black Labrador barked once, beating his tail in a happy rhythm against Roy's leg. As he passed the patio doors, he slid them open, letting the Guide Dog out into the morning sun. Roy then turned to the counter where the coffee pot was tucked away.

His hands slipped into the familiar routine; cabinet doors were pulled open and the coffee and filters were removed from the top shelf. Phalanges traced various cups on the counter until he found a measuring cup and filled it with water, placing his finger at the rim of the glass to judge the amount of liquid. Four cups of water were dumped into the coffee pot before a filter was tucked into place and filled with four scoops of grounds.

"Remember how stubborn you were in the beginning?"

There was a time when Ed's sudden appearance would've startled him. Now, however, his senses were so finely tuned that he could hear the uneven gait of flesh and automail feet from halfway down the hall.

He gave an indignant snort as he glanced in the general direction of the doorway where the blond's voice was coming from. "Hey, I got over the stubbornness."

Ed chuckled softly, stepping into the kitchen and heading toward the table. "Yeah, after making everyone in your proximity miserable."

Roy's mind shifted as he waited for the coffee to brew. He thought back to that first day, when everyone found out what he'd done.

After Truth had dumped them unceremoniously back onto the unforgiving floor of the spare bedroom, Roy had spent what the chirping of birds signified as the early hours of dawn making sure that the young man in his arms really was Edward Elric. His fingers tangled in soft, unbound hair and traced around wide eyes and across full lips to finally lace with cool automail fingers.

He released a breath he hadn't remembered deciding to hold. "You really are my Edward."

Edward's response had been to bring his unoccupied flesh hand up to cup Roy's cheek. Deftly, their lips met, moving against each other in a familiar dance. "You're stuck with me, Mustang." He said in a husky murmur that ghosted across Roy's lips.

That had been roughly thirty minutes ago. Now, Roy found himself sitting on his bed, listening to Edward rummage through the closet and drawers, searching for Roy's Military uniform.

The boy padded over to the bed where Roy was all but cowering in the sea of soft blankets and pillows. "Here," he said, pushing fabric into the older man's hands, "are your pants, shirt, socks and belt."

Roy's lips pulled into an unbidden frown. Wordlessly, he stood, pulling off the trousers and shirt from the night before. He had never had talent for dressing in the dark; fingers clumsily pulled on pants that were left unbuttoned and unzipped before he tugged the crisp-feeling shirt over arms and shoulders. His face scrunched in frustration as he tried and failed miserably to push the tiny button through the even tinier hole.

Edward made a slight noise of pity in his throat before Roy felt cold steel and flesh fingers tug his own away from the material. "Let me," the boy said softly, making quick work of buttoning the shirt and pants before threading a belt through the loops. He then went in search of the man's boots.

For the first time in a long while, Roy Mustang felt useless, left to stand, motionless, surrounded by thick walls of darkness.

( ) ( ) ( )

The atmosphere was one of tense gloom as Roy and Ed waded through the crowded streets of Central, Roy's fingers laced firmly with Ed's as the younger man guided him through the sea of movement. The newly appointed Brigadier General knew when they'd reached the gates of Central Command because Ed's grip tightened on his fingers, and he muttered curses under his breath.

Roy wanted to comfort him "It'll be okay," he wanted to say. "They'll be happy for us." But reality wasn't so kind, he knew that.

Ed gave a deep sigh. "Now or never," he mumbled before tugging the man along. "Let's go," he said finally after a few more steadying breaths.

Roy could imagine the look on Edward's face, and a small portion of his brain courted the thought that he was glad he couldn't see it. After telling himself what a stupid idea that was, he followed after the boy, steps unsure and lacking his usual air of confidence.

They made their way through long corridors, boots thudding on hard tile floors and echoing down the apparently empty hallway. Getting up the two flights of stairs had been tricky, but Roy, if asked, would proudly say he'd only stumbled a total of four times. Once they had actually reached the office – again that squeezing of fingers signaled their arrival – another few minutes were taken to regain composure.

"They've no idea," Edward breathed quietly, making Roy strain to hear. "They have no idea I was trapped in the Gate, no idea you pulled me back – what you sacrificed to pull me back." His voice was shaky, teetering on hysteria.

"Nothing to be done about it now," Roy said, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles over Ed's warm flesh hand. "Not like they could've stopped me had they known," he continued. "They have to find out sooner or later, and it might as well be now."

Ed gave a slight nodding jerk of his head before remembering that Roy couldn't see it. "Right, come on, then." And he tugged Roy forward, pushing open the heavy wooden doors.

Roy's team, from what he could hear outside the door, was a buzz of activity; the hum of conversation, the shuffling of papers, the scratch of pen across paper – it brought a small smile to his lips knowing his platoon wouldn't crumble without their leader. All that activity ceased when Edward leaned forward and poked his head through the door.

"E-Ed," Furey, the first to find some semblance of his voice, choked disbelievingly.

The small plop of what he knew well to be Havoc's cigarette hitting the floor and the feathery sound of Falman's morning paperwork following suit reached Roy's ears.

"Edward, how did you – where did you…?" First Lieutenant Hawkeye was at a loss for words, getting as far as standing from the wooden table in the center of the room, looking like she wanted to rush forward and test Edward's tangibility.

Roy would've paid good money to see Riza in such a state, he was sure.

"Hey, guys," Edward said sounding apologetic and sheepish at the same time. It was a tone not often used by the Fullmetal Alchemist.

"H-How," Breda stuttered, synapses firing enough to allow coherent speech, "are you here?"

Edward exhaled loudly. "It's a long story." With that, he pulled Roy into the room.

Roy could practically feel the gazes in the room; they went first to his and Ed's clasped hands, then darted to his face, surely about to make some juvenile comment as to how they couldn't keep their hands off each other. He could almost hear the words die on their tongues as he stared at them with unseeing eyes – eyes that Ed informed him were now dark gray.

"Roy," was the collective gasp throughout the room. No "General," "Sir," or even "Chief." He supposed he could forgive the lack of respect just this once.

"A lot has happened," he informed with a small smile aimed in the general direction of his squad.

Edward led him to his desk, pulling out the chair and guiding him into the familiar leather. Wordlessly, he released Ed's hand, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin atop them as if all were normal.

"I guess we should start with…" And Edward began the tale, explaining his sacrifice to make Alphonse whole again, being held prisoner by Truth and Roy's rescue in detail.

Silence ascended as the occupants of the room digested this information.

Roy heard Ed's sharp intake of breath as something occurred to him, and he reached a hand over to clamp down on the man's shoulder.

"Get the phone," he said, already knowing what Edward was going to ask. "I need you to dial a number," he continued as the phone was slid across the wooden desk.

Edward obeyed, fingers tripping as they tried to keep up with the numbers rolling off Roy's tongue. His heart was pounding; Roy could feel the pulse from the arm that rested limply on his shoulder.

He heard the phone give three muffled rings before Ed gasped out, "Al."

There was a slight hum and three short pops before Alphonse's voice, somewhere in the middle of downtown Central, carried over the line. "…E-Ed? Brother….?"

"It's me, Al. It's me." Ed's voice was tight, throat clogged with tears.

"How?" Al asked. It seemed to be the question of the day.

With a stuttering breath and a small cough to dislodge the tears of joy, Edward began the tale again.

"Oh, brother," Alphonse breathed, and Roy, faintly able to hear the conversation, could hear the emotion in his tone. "The General really…" He trailed off, gratitude that he'd never be able to clearly express in his tone.

"Yeah," Ed said softly. Then in a more excited tone, "Where are you?"

"Downtown, in an apartment in Central," Al supplied vaguely. Then Ed heard a muffled, "Hey, I have a surprise for you," that clearly wasn't directed at him.

"Alphonse," Edward said, suspicious. "Who was that?" He had an idea, but he wanted to hear his brother say the words.

"Oh, just a friend," he said, knowing his brother would understand.

"You little devil," the elder Elric's tone blazed with approval, impish grin leaking into his voice.

"I'll fill you in later," Al said excitedly. "I'll be there in," he paused, "twenty minutes. We'll figure things out for the General"

"Not fast enough," Ed said as the line went dead.

Roy jerked his head up, unseeing gaze curious.

"He'll be here in twenty," Ed informed, placing the phone back in its cradle. He then got up to pace impatiently around the office.

( )

Roughly fifteen minutes went by before the heavy wooden doors creaked open and Edward was halted in his pacing by the two figures in the doorway. A joyful amber gaze locked with his own as a caramel-blond rushed forward and all but tackled the boy in a vice-like hug.

"Al-Alphonse," Edward wheezed, wrapping his arms even tighter around his brother, "c-can't breathe."

"Sorry, sorry," Al said, both hurried and apologetic, loosening his grip. Ed, however, didn't follow suit. "Brother," he choked as Ed's grip tightened.

"I'm just so glad, you're normal again, Al." Ed said in a broken whisper that was punctuated by a small sniffle.

"I'm glad you're back, Ed," the younger Elric said in the same fashion.

"I-It's really… you." The shaky statement pulled both boys to the form that huddled in the doorway, grasping the wooden frame as if to keep balanced.

"Winry," Ed exhaled. That was all it took to send the girl running, speeding into Ed's open arms with a squeal of joy.

"Where have you been?" She demanded, blue eyes brimming with tears as she released the boy, hands feeling for a tool belt and wrench that she thankfully didn't have.

And Ed began his tale once more for his childhood friend's benefit, going over to the desk to stand by Roy who looked a bit lost, bewildered by the reunion.

Winry, predictably, gushed over the romanticism of Roy's sacrifice, claiming that this was the kind of story Roy and Ed would tell their future children. "And you will have them, you hear me? Adopted, naturally."

"Not that I wouldn't love to father them myself," Roy said with a smirk that widened at the flustered sounds his lover made. "But, alas, it would be impossible." He sighed dramatically, enjoying Ed's reactions even though he couldn't see them.

"You could always try," Alphonse suggested gleefully. "Bet it would be fun." Edward spewed death threats to all members of the room, whether they participated in the conversation or not, as Al informed Roy, "He's blushing."

"Don't we have more important things to discuss?" Edward snapped, glaring at Winry, scowling at Al, and giving a small punch to Roy's shoulder.

"Right," Al said, getting back to business. "We need to focus on the General."

Roy found that he didn't like hearing Al use such an impersonal title. "Roy," he stated firmly.

Everyone, even the members of Roy's squad who had been doing their best to get some work done, looked up at that.

"Excuse me?" Alphonse squeaked, not knowing why the thought of using the General's first name was such a hard thing to imagine.

"My name," the man said slowly, looking in the direction of Al's voice, "is Roy. We are basically family after all." And something in his body practically melted at that thought.

"Uh, right," the younger boy mumbled. "Um. We need to come up with a plan to get… Roy's," and he was rewarded when the man smiled at his hesitant attempt, "life back to normal."

"You can have a normal life, Roy," Winry said, the use of the man's first name easier for her. "It's just going to take some adapting."

"What's the first step?" Edward asked. He moved from his spot on the arm of Roy's swivel chair momentarily to get a pen and paper from the desk drawer. He wanted a solid list, it would make things easier.

"I have some contacts at Central Hospital," Winry said. "I could talk to them, see what they suggest."

"Contacts?" Edward asked incredulously. "What contacts? You've been here for fuckin'…" he paused in thought. "A week, if that."

A smirk coated Winry's voice. "The Rockbell name is well known," was all she gave in answer to the alleged contacts.

"Fine, whatever," Ed waved it away. "Next?"

"I'll take a trip to Central Library," Al supplied, "to see if there's reference to ways to make his life easier. There are ways to cope without sight, y'know; braille covers the aspect of reading, then there are Guide Dogs and cane skills for mobility. Stuff like that."

"They have people to teach that?" Ed asked, curious as he wrote his brother's words onto the paper.

"I'm sure the library, or somewhere else, will have records of that." Al nodded sagely, standing from the couch and pulling Winry up with him.

"So… What do I do?" Ed pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing worriedly.

Knowing his brother wouldn't like the prospect of sitting still, being of no help, he worded his sentence carefully. "Stay here with Roy. We'll take care of all the footwork."

Edward had a protest on the tip of his tongue, but Roy's fingers searching for his stopped him. "Alright," he said softly, grasping the older man's searching hand.

With a fond smile from Al and a mumble about the "love between two souls" from Winry, the two exited the room. After the door clicked shut, the room was filled with the scratch of pen on paper.

Roy and Ed sat in silence, reeling in the early morning events.

( ) ( ) ( )

To Be Continued

AN: Sorry for the ri-goddamn-diculously long wait. Let's hope I don't make it a habit with this story like so many others.