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Roy’s mind was stuck in a thick mud of drowsiness. Someone was clearly trying to pull him out of it, given the impatient feminine voice at his ear and the incessant shaking of his shoulder.
“—Wake up, Sir.”
He groaned, wanting to sink back into the calm depths of sleep. It sounded a lot more comfortable.
Despite his wishes, his shoulder continued to be shaken, more persistently this time. “Colonel. You need to wake up. Edward is waiting,” the voice insisted in his ringing ears—it was Hawkeye.
He felt his forehead pinch in confusion. What was she doing here? Last he remembered, it was only Fullmetal with him, all the way out in West City for a State Alchemist conference.
“…Lieutenant?” Roy croaked, slowly pushing himself up. As he changed positions, he noticed that he was sitting at his desk, back at his office.
In East City.
“What—?” Roy blinked in confusion, shaking his head in attempts to wake himself up more. “How did I get back here?” His gaze flicked to Riza, who raised a brow at him.
The woman looked taken aback, before suddenly smirking. “I don’t know where you were before, Sir, but right now you’re back to the land of the living,” she quipped. In other circumstances, he would have smiled at how she decided to use his smartass teasing habits against him.
Staring at his desk, Roy’s mind felt heavy with disorientation. He could have sworn he had already left with Fullmetal yesterday, and arrived at their hotel—in fact, he distinctly remembered the boy loudly complaining about how their shared room only had one bed.
But then… he woke up here.
So it wasn’t real, then.
“I thought I already left for West City. It must have been a really realistic dream…” The man rubbed at his temples, trying to let reality sink into his brain. “Apologies, Lieutenant,” he sighed.
Riza gave him a soft, calculating look, before it morphed into an assuring smile. “A disorienting dream is nothing to apologize for, Colonel. As long as it doesn’t make you late for your train, that is.”
Oh yeah. “When’s that, again?” he croaked, a bit more awake, even as sleepiness still stuck to his voice like a tick.
“Twenty minutes, Sir.”
With a long sigh, he peeled himself from the warmth of his office chair and grabbed his coat hanging from the back. The station was a ten minute drive, so it was best to leave immediately. “I guess I’m off, then.”
He stood up tall and grabbed his keys, before another wave of confusion hit him. It was a subtle tickle down his spine that whispered, “something’s not right, something’s missing, something doesn’t make sense.” The thought made his face pinch, and he realized how light he felt. He was leaving to stay in a different city for a few days, wasn’t he?
The Colonel paused. “Wait. Where’s my…?”
“You sent your luggage already, Sir,” Riza explained, eerily able to read his mind. It was strange, but not unheard of. “You decided to ship it in advance to avoid any troubles.”
“...Right.” He didn’t remember doing it, but it sounded like something he would do.
Man, he needed a coffee.
The Colonel departed with a salute. After leaving the office, Roy opened the door to his car and sank into the seat, a thoughtful frown tugging at his lips as he twisted the keys and headed towards the train station, his mind in a jumble.
Fullmetal was waiting there already, right? Or was Roy supposed to have picked the boy up?
As the Colonel cruised down the empty streets, he felt like a student who hadn’t prepared for the test he was taking. It was an unfamiliar discomfort in his mind. Normally, he made sure he was always prepared—so what was his problem?
(Maybe he simply drank too much last night in an attempt to forget something, and succeeded more than he had meant to. If that were the case, perhaps he should stop trying to dig up what he had buried.)
More time passed, and Roy found himself waiting on the right platform when a certain blond-headed alchemist trudged to stand at his side, an impatient look on his face.
A small wash of relief hit the older man. He had a suspicion Ed had already been waiting here, and it was a weight off his chest to see that his instincts were correct—even if it was followed by a shame that he had ever forgotten.
“—There you are, Bastard. I’ve been looking all over for you,” Ed grumbled, as temperamental as ever. “Where the hell have you been, anyway? You’re usually one step ahead.”
The comment was true, but still, ouch.
“I… was checking that everything was in order before I departed from the office,” Roy half-lied. Fullmetal probably assumed he was talking about paperwork, while he was actually referring to his own thoughts.
Edward sent him a calculating glare for a moment, before flicking his head to the side. “Tch, whatever.”
The train to West City pulled into the station, and the two alchemists seated themselves in the military-designated car. Ed wasted no time pulling out a book as he leaned against the window and kicked up his platform boots against the (thankfully) empty seats in front of them.
Normally, Roy would have made a dry comment and ordered Ed to sit like a respectable human being, but he didn’t. The man was simply too lost in the persistent fog of deja vu hugging his brain. Everything just felt so familiar, like it had already happened. I mean, it did—he was very loosely repeating what had already happened in his dream, when he thought about it—but he shook his head. The State Alchemist conference was just weighing heavy on his mind. After all, it was a huge opportunity for personal recognition and brown nosing some higher ups. He’s dreamt about leaving for missions right before attending them in real life before, so he should really stop being so bothered. This wasn’t anything new.
A sharp cough followed by a grumble of disgust snagged his attention.
Beside him, Fullmetal had an unfamiliar cup of fruity-red liquid (garnished with pineapple chunks and cherries) in his hand, holding it away from him as if it were a feral cat trying to claw his face. Speaking of which, the kid’s expression looked utterly betrayed, scrunched in pure repugnance as his tongue was stuck out.
“Where did you get that?” Roy asked, bewildered.
“I oughta ask the attendant the same thing!” Ed cried out. “This tastes awful.”
Fighting his urge to facepalm was like grappling with a brown bear. “When did you get that drink, Fullmetal?” Roy sighed in exasperation.
Ed squawked, flailing his arms dramatically. “I don’t know! A few minutes ago? The lady came by to take orders while you were staring off into space like a dunce.”
Mustang was utterly unimpressed by that remark, though he knew it could only be true. He’d been spacing out ever since waking up from his nap. Hawkeye had brushed it off as typical drowsiness, but hearing Fullmetal tease him about it hurt his dwindling pride gave him the urge to cross his arms and sulk. However, as tempting as it was to mope like a teenager, Roy allowed his so-called “bastardness” to win out instead.
He smoothly snatched the drink out of Ed’s hand, giving it a lazy swirl and a curious sniff as the boy stared at him indignantly.
“Hey!”
The strong, piney scent of gin tickled his nose, even as it was poorly concealed by the scent of fruity soda. The previously-unfamiliar drink suddenly became quite familiar, and he was shocked he didn’t recognize it sooner. It was Riza’s favorite.
“Is this a Xing Sling?” Roy raised his brow, sending Ed a smirk.
Ed shifted in annoyance, face turning red. “I don’t even know what that means, Bastard!—All I asked for was the closest thing they had to fruit juice…”
Roy chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly in the casual way he knew Ed hated. “There’s nothing wrong with preferring a girly drink, Fullmetal.”
“I—that’s not—!” The kid verbally scrambled in embarrassment. “The attendant probably thought I was ordering it for you, since you were brain dead while she came by!”
Roy hummed, pleased. “That works out perfectly, then.” Without hesitation, he downed the rest of the drink in two thick gulps, before giving a sigh and wiping his lips. Delicious.
Fullmetal’s face soured as he stuck out his tongue in disgust.
“You’ll get it when you’re older, kid.” Roy laughed and offered the cold glass back to Fullmetal, whose fingers reluctantly wrapped around it. The ice inside clinked from the movement. “Thanks for that, by the way. I feel much better.”
The older man crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back with a sigh, feeling the sugary alcoholic drink settle in his stomach with a warm buzz. He truly did feel better.
Glass shattered.
Roy’s eyes snapped open on instinct, catching on Edward’s limply-open hand. The glass had clearly been carelessly released from the teen’s rebellious grip and broken against the hard floor of the train car.
Whether it had been purposely dropped or thrown out of sheer spite, it was a childish action, one that immediately soured Roy’s mood. “The hell are you doing, Fullmetal?” he barked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice.
Edward wasn’t even looking at him. The young golden eyes were trained forward, focused on nothing in particular, leaving his expression to appear quite vulnerable. Dazed.
That foreboding aura from earlier creeped down Roy’s spine once again. His irritation quickly transitioned into a wary confusion. “Fullmetal?” he asked, resisting the urge to poke him.
The kid perked out of his stupor and looked at him in surprise, his mouth carefully opened to say something. As he did, the croaking attempt at speech was instantly interrupted by his own cough, bubbly and wet. Something colorful trickled from Ed’s lips.
“Woah, woah, woah—” Roy found himself repeating, utterly lost at the sudden shift. “Are you— are you feeling alright?” he asked on instinct, leaning forward.
Ed shook his head and coughed again, sending more flecks of color to splatter against his commanding officer’s uniform.
Red.
They both froze. Ed gasped with shock, before immediately sputtering more and more crimson droplets from his lips.
“Sh-Shit!” Panic surged through Roy’s veins.
Fullmetal was now struggling to breath in, his airways gurgling and bubbling with what could only be a rapidly reddening froth. His eyes were wide and trembling, dim gold irises bouncing aimlessly around the room before settling against dark coal, pleading.
“H-Hold on, let me call—“ Roy shook his head, thoughts racing about what to do. “—just—wait, okay?” his voice trembled.
As a response, more and more foamy fluid dribbled from between Ed’s teeth, and they both inwardly knew there was nothing that could be done. No amount of time could help anymore.
Through the haze of his panic, Roy noticed that the warm buzz in his stomach had graduated into something too-hot and wrong, spreading through his body and weighing him down. His chest felt tight as all the organs in his upper body burned, he felt something dribble from his lips, too. Mustang didn’t have to look to know it was ruby red.
Red…
At that moment, everything clicked in Roy’s mind.
The drink.
With a painful groan, Fullmetal went limp and crashed against the window. His weak frame was contorted into a helpless heap of limps, crumbled in a position that couldn’t possibly be comfortable. The pitiful sight made Roy’s brain hyperfocus on the inevitable feeling that he’d be following the same path in a few moments. He could still taste the pineapple on his tongue.
“Edw—!” The man’s throat spasmed as he coughed a bubbly crimson. He tried to push a strong, commanding tone from his throat, but it came out strained and weak. “Someone—h-hel—!”
Everything was happening too fast. Ed’s eyes were only half open now, and he wasn’t coughing anymore. Sagging against the window, red trickling down his chin, the child truly looked dead.
N-No…
Before Roy let himself collapse under the pressure of the poison in his blood as well, he thrusted his hand to gently grasp Ed's neck and carefully push his thumb under the soft jaw. The child’s pulse against his fingers was slowing rapidly, each beat growing weaker and more delayed than the last.
No. No. No.
More fluid gushed down Roy’s face, but this time, it wasn’t from his mouth. “K-kid, y… y’need… t’st-stay—“
Like a sick wild animal, the slowing pulse only evaded him further.
With a feeling of defeat, Roy finally crumbled into the boy against his will. To his horror, his torso smashed atop Ed’s chest, and he could feel the kid’s lungs pathetically struggling to rise against the new weight of Mustang’s body.
Ed couldn’t breathe. Roy was killing him. The man knew he was—his hand still limply cradled Edward’s pulse point. He couldn’t pull away now, not even if he wanted to.
Th-thump… th-thump… th-thump…
Th-thump… th… thump…
Th…
Thump…
Th…
…
Ed’s chest stopped rising, and his neck went horrifyingly still against Roy’s fingers.
All of the burning warmth in Mustang’s body suddenly turned to ice. An anguished scream tried to tear from his throat, but it only came out as a gurgled moan, and some red spittle. Every inch of his skin was aching in pure physical and emotional pain as his heart was starting to give out from the stress, following the exact path as the warm corpse he was limp against.
The boy he had sworn to protect.
Even as black static swam into his vision, even as the emotionless helmet of an inconsolable Alphonse burned in his mind, even as he felt the warm body of Edward turn cold under his uniform—
Even as his own heart gave up and stopped beating, only a few inches above Edward Elric’s—
Roy’s mouth was left open in a silent scream.
Roy Mustang lurched upright, the worn springs of a cheap hotel mattress squeaking at the abrupt movement.
He could feel the coolness of the drafty air against his sweaty back, which heaved at an unhealthy pace. The dead pulse of his subordinate’s neck was fresh against his fingers, no matter how much he tried to forget about it.
It was dark. Quiet.
The faltering of his heart felt all-too-similar to what he had experienced on the train, and it made him feel sick. Something tried to crawl up his throat, but he swallowed it back down where it belonged.
He wasn’t dead. The pulse of his stomach and the tightness of his chest confirmed it—he wasn’t dead, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t already dying.
A soft sigh followed by a gentle shift on the bed made Roy freeze. Slowly, he turned his head, as if moving too fast would trigger the poison waiting in his veins.
A small figure was curled on its side, facing away from him. Deep breaths could be heard and seen, as the blankets rose and fell with the same rhythm—slow and relaxed.
It was Fullmetal, breathing deeply and evenly. No gurgles spilling from his throat. Nothing smothering his chest.
He was just… asleep. Like nothing had happened.
Like it was all… a dream.
Roy shivered, looking at his own hands. They were shaking.
A dream. A dream!
A giggle nearly burst from his lips, so he bit down with his teeth, making the soft skin weep in protest. It was taking everything in his body not to grasp Edward’s shoulders and violently shake him awake. Roy knew it was stupid, and the kid would make fun of him for it for months, but none of that mattered to him. He really just wanted to make sure the kid was alive. Boneless atop their shitty shared bed, Ed looked too much like he did in that dream—no, nightmare: Limp against the train’s window, struggling to breathe, slowly draining of life…
Before he could stop himself, Roy raised a trembling arm, just like in his dream, and carefully pushed his thumb under the boy’s soft jaw.
Th-thump. Th-thump. Th-thump.
The heartbeat beat was strong and steady, each pulse like an ocean wave that washed away the sands of Roy’s anxiety. The man couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath as goosebumps rippled down his body at the pure relief flooding his system.
None of it had been real. Fullmetal was here with him in their shitty hotel room, sleeping soundly. Alive.
Roy hadn’t failed him, not yet at least.
After a few moments of contact, Ed finally shifted against his palm. Mustang tensed in anticipation of a sudden awakening, but the boy only batted his hand away with a sleepy mumble, cuddling his blanket closer. “…St’ppit, Mom… ‘m not… sick…”
Roy stared at the kid in disbelief, before cracking into a warm smile. He wanted to laugh, but it wasn’t worth the risk. The kid needed his rest. They both did. Tomorrow was a long day.
But tomorrow was also tomorrow.
With that in mind, Roy buried himself back under the covers and nested his head in his pillow, facing Edward. Dark, coal irises traced the way the boy’s back rose and fell, and followed it with his own lungs. As they breathed together in a matching rhythm, the older man slowly fell back asleep, where he peacefully dreamt of playful banter, and ruffling a small head of golden hair.