Notes: Written for "I need to let you go" prompt for fma_fic_contest on livejournal. My first attempt at first person pov.

Don't Let Me Go
by Starlit Purple

It had been a bad day. Not that there were good days here. The only good days were the days we got a day or weekend leave, and those didn't come often. On the typical scale of bad days though, this one ranked one of the worst. Especially for Roy.

It had taken me a while to find him. I waited around the mess tent—where I usually catch up with him after the day's work, but he never came for evening rations. I swung by his tent afterward. The alchemists got tents to themselves; I've caught him sitting alone on his cot trying to throw off the day many times. It was empty.

Really bad day then.

I decided to check the officers' tent next. Not because I thought he'd be there, I didn't really. It was more for the sake of checking all the obvious places. And sometimes they had night meetings with the alchemists. There were a few officers and alchemists in there, but none of them were Roy.

"You looking for Mustang?" A sly voice came from my right as I exited the officers' tent.

I shrugged, not in the mood to deal with the Crimson Alchemist. "You seen him?"

"Today was a rough day, Hughes. You know the part of the district he was in today was mostly women and children?" Kimblee spoke as if he were reporting the weather. Calm and collected with an unsettling glint in his eyes that made my stomach twist. "The men were sent to my area yesterday to make a stand...not that it did them any good." He huffed out a chuckle.

I tried not to let on how horrified I was at his words, schooling my face into a glare to cover the shock I was feeling. Not that I had to try too hard, Kimblee was a sadistic bastard.

"I asked if you knew where he was," I ground out.

He made a sound of indifference. "I haven't seen him since our shift ended."

There was nothing else I had to say to him then. I uttered a grudging thanks as I turned away—he still outranked me no matter how much I despised him.

It was nearing twilight when I finally found Roy. My chest clenched at the sight of him. He was in the outskirts of the city he'd been working in that day, back against a half-fallen wall from a collapsed building, knees pulled to his chest. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was worrying his bottom lip quite aggressively.

There was a young Isvalan girl about ten paces to Roy's left, glassy eyes gazing unseeingly at the stars. Another woman—likely the girl's mother, I figured—was lying face down a bit further away, hand outstretched toward the child. Both bore the telltale signs of the Flame Alchemist's work.

"Rough day, huh." It wasn't really a question. I spoke softly, but he still startled rather badly, gloved hand up and ready to snap before I could move. I put on a pained smile. "It's just me, Roy."

He took a deep breath and let his hand drop, turning his head toward the victims at his side. I moved forward and knelt next to him, putting my hand on his arm and squeezing lightly. His only answer was a shuddering sigh as his friend tried to hold it together.

"C'mon," I tugged gently at his arm. "We should get back to camp. You missed supper."

He huffed out a breath, but let me pull him to his feet. He spared one last glance for the Ishvalans before finally turning and letting me lead him back to camp.

I didn't tell Maes what happened with the woman and her child. That they'd saved me from the worst of a bomb the Ishvalans had set, only to get caught up in it themselves. Or that their injuries were so extensive they wouldn't have survived the day. (I had taken mercy on them and put them out of their misery quickly afterward.)

But...why help me?

The question had been plaguing my mind ever since the young girl pushed me out of the way. I didn't deserve saving. I'm a monster. The human weapon sent to burn their city and lives to ashes.

It's cruel that the only injuries I sustained from the day were minor scrapes and burns. It should have been worse. I should have been...

I didn't recognize the sob that echoed from my throat. It was a horrible sound that made my chest ache even more. I tucked my cheek further into Maes' chest and squeezed my eyes shut to keep from breaking down. I can't do that yet. Not while I'm still here. Not when I'll have to do the same things tomorrow.

The arms around me tightened in wordless reply as lips pressed softly against my temple. Maes hadn't asked about any of it. As with any other particularly trying day, he'd taken me back to my tent and forced me to eat the spare rations he snuck from the mess tent. Then announced he was staying until I fell asleep and pulled me onto my cot with him.

My thoughts drifted back to the girl. Her high pitched warning as she ran toward me; her mother running frantically after her, desperate fear in her eyes as she screamed for her daughter to stop... The blinding explosion I'd barely managed to evade the most of... The sound of their screams as fire and debris went into chaos around them...

I shook my head to try and stop the thoughts. I need to let you go.

"Mmm?" I could feel the noise rumble in the chest below me.

Oh. I guess I spoke that last bit out loud. My eyes widened as I realized how Maes could have taken my last thought, and I shifted to look up at him. He was frowning, concern and confusion in his eyes, but his hand moved up my back in a soothing motion as he watched.

"Nothing, I was just—that wasn't about you, that...that was—"

Maes' lips covered mine before I could stammer out anything else. "Good," he whispered as we broke apart. "Cause I don't want to let you go."

I smiled as I settled back down onto his chest, nuzzling into his neck. "Thanks Maes."

A hand pawed through my hair as it slid back into place around my middle. "Go to sleep Roy."