Thanks so much for all the reviews along the way! Final chapter!

There is also more beautiful art now for this fic! In addition to the cover art, there's now two more arts up on my tumblr (ranowa-fanart-dump); go check them out, because they're WONDERFUL!

Anywho, to clarify something, this fic takes place in the brotherhood verse, so a few unanswered questions crop up this chapter that are actually answered in canon- they are NOT little hints from me to suggest a sequel. I have no such plans for a sequel especially after how long this monster took me to complete. They are meant to be unanswered questions for Ed and Roy, not for us :)

It's been a really long ride! Hope it was fun for all of you to the end, and hopefully I'll see you next time! Enjoy!

Five weeks later

Roy, with an absentminded, tired sort of sigh, poured himself and stirred his third cup of coffee for the day. Before noon. He frowned down at it on autopilot, barely registering the bitter bite without his usual cream that he hadn't had the will to buy more of, and released another shuddering sigh. His tired, sore shoulders slumped.

Today was the day.

Today was the day, that Ed and Al were going back to Risembool.

It had been four weeks, since the tight control of martial law had been lifted over the city. Travel restrictions had remained, preventing Ed's return home until now.

The day after the military had entered the martial law restrictions in the city, Roy had returned to his own apartment- and some part of him had been silently, immeasurably relieved that he'd been able to find it. The jokes that he'd been able to find Maes' home yet not his own had stayed their welcome just a bit too long. Before then, he and Roy had continued to say with his aunt, both because, in all their skittish dodges of questions and uncertain smiles, it had been plain to see that their friends had been worried about leaving them alone...

And, at least a little bit, because Roy hadn't wanted to be alone, either.

But the day had finally come, and, with the promise of near daily visits from his best friend and staff to check up on him, Roy had, at long last, gone home.

Ed and Al had followed not even an hour later.

Al, because wherever his brother was, these days, he was too, and there was no question about it. And Ed, because, for all his bravado and shows of confidence, it had been plainly obvious that he'd had no interest in going back to stay in a cramped dorm room surrounded by soldiers he barely knew and that the fears he'd wanted to avoid. Maes had offered his guest room almost immediately, but by the quick, almost reflexive look of apprehension on Ed's face, Roy hadn't been surprised when the kid had turned it down.

Ed... wasn't doing too well.

To put it mildly.

He was still without an arm and a leg; still without even the easier, more temporary prostheses that could've made his life easier before he got his automail back. This time it had been Havoc who had offered it, Maes seeming to have thought better of it while Roy had never been so stupid in the first place.

Ed had put his foot down with the startled, upset vehemence of a cornered animal, and after that refused to even let Gracia check on his back for another three days after that.

Gracia, a nurse, was still the closest they'd been able to get Ed to a doctor or hospital since he'd gotten his memories back. Roy couldn't judge him for it, because he wasn't any better himself.

The panic that clenched in his chest at the thought of sitting still in an antiseptic smelling, sterile white room, for a stranger to come in and pry and prod and control...

Roy shuddered again, all but inhaling his next sip of coffee to try and forestall the chill crawling up his spine. It didn't even come close to working.

He imagined it was going to be a while yet before he'd be okay with such a thing, and Ed was clearly no different. The only reason his subordinate was going to be able to handle getting his automail back at all was because he already knew and trusted Winry with his life, and- perhaps more importantly- he already saw the Rockbell's shop as a sort of safe place. A home.

Not a hospital.

He knew Al was worried about it. He knew from the hushed, secret phone conversations he'd overheard between Al and Winry that his automail mechanic was now worried about it too. He overheard all the ways Al was trying to prepare Winry for how Ed might react, all the ways she was going to try and accommodate him before Ed had even stepped off the train. He knew Ed knew, in the sullen way the kid refused to talk about it, and the way he either buried his face in a book or almost desperately changed the subject whenever it came up.

Roy, however, wasn't worried.

He felt he had no right to be, when so much of what he saw in Ed's eyes, he knew was mirrored in his own.

Sure, perhaps Roy had a better handle on it than Ed did, he mused, staring into his murky reflection in the dark brown of his mug. But that was only to be expected. Roy was older than him, Roy was more experienced than him, Roy was simply better off than him as he recovered while still having all his limbs, without having to rely on others for help...

And sometimes, late at night, Roy would remember how he'd found Ed: insensate, shivering, and with eyes like the dead, left in a straitjacket in a padded cell.

He was reluctant to admit it, even to himself, but the most likely reason that Ed was having so much more trouble than he was, was simply that he'd been treated so much more badly than Roy had. Roy considered this darkly ironic, seeing as he only one Justin and his Ishvalans had had a grudge against was him. Ed had been snatched up by mere necessity, Justin probably hadn't cared what happened to Ed so long as he could his array... but here they were.

He still didn't like being left alone. He could do it now, he could tolerate it for a few minutes or however long he had to, but only because his brother was in the apartment to mitigate it at all times. He still didn't sleep well, some nights waking Roy up as he moved throughout the apartment because he wasn't sleeping at all and some days would just be sullen and upset and withdraw into a book without talking to any of them at all.

And Roy...

Roy, as much as he hated it, couldn't do nearly anything about it.

He had returned to the office almost immediately, taking charge as best he could no matter how unsettled his footing was and how uncomfortable he felt with every eye that turned to him. Under normal circumstances, he probably would've been barred from doing so before being cleared, physically and mentally- and at this point, probably alchemically as well-but with the military still in upheaval, he'd been able to worm his way around it for now. This was simply not an opportunity that he could pass up to be present and make a name for himself. When the next round of promotions came around, he did not want his superiors to think of this crisis, read the name Roy Mustang, and struggle to remember him doing anything more than flitting in and out of the infirmary.

That was... certainly part of it, yes, he reluctantly admitted to himself. That was part of it.

And there was also more to it.

The military was up to something, and whatever it was: Roy did not like it. .

Before Ed had helped him recover his memories, Maes telling him that Fuhrer Bradley had gone missing in the intervening months between his disappearance and the culmination of this civil war had barely made an impact. Fuhrer Bradley had not be a name to make an impression on him, and that news had been heard and swiftly categorized as near irrelevant.

Now, however, things were different.

And especially in light of how everything had been resolved.

The day of the assault on HQ, Roy had tugged on his gloves and turned to face the music, ready and willing to fight once again. Maes had gone with him, Ed sticking by his side until Al could join them, finally ready for the first time in months to stand up for themselves again.

Except that it had already been over.

According to eyewitness accounts- and that was all they had, because the man himself wasn't talking- Bradley had returned the day of the assault like a demon summoned from hell. No one had seen where he'd come from, no one had seen how he'd appeared, but he'd just been there, arriving there in perfect uniform with not an escort or a hair out of place. He'd appeared to simply walk down the torn streets of Central, cleanly decimating his way through any and all resistance that'd he met, and when he'd reached HQ...

There'd been dozens of rebels amassing outside. The tide of the battle had already turned against them and they'd been on the run, but it had been a sizable mass that would've taken hours to safely corral and contain, or a bloody and drawn out firefight to bring the battle to an end by eradicating the other side. But Bradley had reached HQ, strolling down the street like it was nothing more than an afternoon walk on a summer day-

And he'd slaughtered them all.

He'd torn through dozens of soldiers with their gunfire and their alchemy with nothing more than a single sword, and he'd killed every last one of them.

In mere minutes.

Then he'd turned around, asked why the doors to his castle were crumbling and if his staff could get on that, and calmly requested for his dumbstruck secretary to bring him some tea.

The public statement was that Fuhrer Bradley, in all his magnificence and unparalleled bravery and skill, had singlehandedly defeated the invading army and saved the city. Saved the country. There'd already been an honorary parade scheduled and statue plans drawn up. From what Roy had heard, this was also the prevailing belief in the military, at least among the enlisted men... there'd been so much demand at the Academy for saber classes they'd had to hire three extra instructors.

Roy was not so easily convinced.

In his mind, it was quite simple: Fuhrer Bradley had vanished without a trace when the country had needed him most, evidently telling absolutely no one in the military his whereabouts, and stayed vanished for months. Not a single soul in the country had reported so much as a whiff of where'd he been. Only to conveniently materialize on scene to stride back in like a hero on a white horse in their darkest hour... and somehow not only fight his way through an actual army with nothing more than a sword, but do so with such an inhuman level of strength and speed that he'd apparently singlehandedly ended the citywide bloody combat without so much as a scratch.

All to not only end the battle, but permanently silence every last one of the rebels... the rebels that Justin himself had told them knew things about their government that the military would not want to get out.

Roy didn't have an explanation for it, as of yet. There was too much that remained unknown, too many questions, not enough answers or sense- and that wasn't even including the military's continued silence on the loophole that had allowed State Alchemists to create gold, the loophole that Roy didn't believe Bradley hadn't been fully aware of and abused for a second. But he, Maes, and Hawkeye were already in tacit agreement that Bradley was not the hero of this story, and might well already be planning another one where he played an even worse role than he had that day. By the unsettled ease that seemed to permeate the offices of his other colleagues and superiors whenever the subject got brought up, he also knew that they were not the only ones.

This was not a time where Roy could afraid to lay idle.

Even his staff had had to finally admit that, as much as they'd wished otherwise. And Roy knew that they wished otherwise. It was not a coincidence that Hughes always wandered by one or two times a day, usually harassing him to join him for lunch, or that Hawkeye was always knocking on his door by five, all but ordering him to put his work down so she could drive him home. It was not a coincidence how closely all his staff watched him, and how they practically summoned his adjutant or best friend whenever he so much as looked distressed, never mind actually being upset or needing their support.

He knew they were worried about him.

He recognized the concerned, sympathetic way they looked at him now as most likely very similar to how he looked at Ed.

He also didn't have the will to protest about it, because in at least some ways, he knew it was warranted. Hell, in their shoes? He'd probably be worried about him, too.

But, he thought, smoothing his shirt down in a decidedly business-like manner, there was no room for him to focus on that now. Not with the military entirely absorbing his days and then coming home to navigate the new, uncertain dynamic with Ed and his brother in the night.

But... that was at last coming to an end.

Ed was headed back to Risembool with his brother, and by all indications, he was not planning on coming back for a very long time.

Roy would've been lying, if he'd said he wasn't the least bit apprehensive about the lonely shadows that were about to encroach over the entirety of his apartment. It already felt far too similar to those final weeks in that hospital, when he and Ed had been separated and he'd not have any idea when (or if) he'd ever see him again. What he was going through.

If he was still alive.

It was necessary, though, and he was not going to protest. Roy's home was here, in Central. Ed's was not. Roy's family was here, at HQ, at the Hughes home, at his aunt's bar. Ed's was not.

And Ed needed to be somewhere familiar and with his family as much as Roy did right now, no matter how unwilling either were to admit it.

Because all Ed had in Central right now was the newly uncertain, difficult, nearly unbreachable dynamic that had persisted between him and Ed since that day Ed had given him his memories back, and still persisted even now, in the dark silence of his apartment.

He frowned sullenly into the remains of his cup of coffee.

Today was going to be his last chance to break that dynamic.

It was time for him to finally break his silence.

With one last quick swallow, Roy settled the ceramic mug back down on his counter with a soft, cold sort of clunk, steeled himself with a long, deep breath, and turned himself around to proceed back to his living room.

Ed, as Roy had fully expected, remained settled and sunk back deeply into the corner of his couch. All he could see of him was the very top of his blond head, the whole rest of him buried underneath the thickness of a spare blanket, and all he could hear was that soft scritch scratching of a pencil into that consistently growing alchemy notebook of his. His packed suitcase waited on the floor beside him, and Al's beside it... Roy had gone with them to help, and therefore knew the brothers had cleaned the dorm room out. He wasn't sure if they'd even left any of their meager possessions behind.

Something unhappy settled around his heart again, weighing him down like an anchor, and his shoulders slumped.

He really didn't think Ed was planning on coming back.

Roy cleared his throat a little, turning Ed's attention to him as he slowly drew forwards to join him. "So you're ready to go, then?" he asked, casting another wary eye over his luggage, then back to the slumped figure on his couch. A single distracted, downcast nod. "Just waiting on Alphonse?"

Ed nodded slowly again, continuing to frown down at his notes rather than look up at him. He kept writing for a few moments, brow furrowing in concentration as he tried to finish whatever his train of thought was, then finally dotted the sentence done and looked up, pushing the pencil back into his braid for some sort of sloppy safekeeping. "He promised he'd call to update no matter what by noon. So, worst case, we still got some time."

Roy had known all of this, having been involved in the planning himself, but he simply nodded again, watching him. With how much of a mess the country still was, the trains were still horrendously off schedule. Rather than get the brothers down to the train station only to potentially have to wait there, all but stranded, for hours, they'd decided that Al would wait there himself, and when their train was finally confirmed to be close, he'd call, and Roy would drive Ed in.

In his current state, being forced to wait in a cacophonous, packed, unpredictable, and claustrophobic train station would've just been a disaster waiting to happen.

So instead here they were, Roy and Ed left alone, waiting for Al's call that still had not come. Roy sighed again, casting a slow examination over Ed's blanket lump again, this time lingering on the little notebook as he pushed himself down into the nearest chair. "Are you ever going to tell us what you've been so busy with, in that thing?" he asked lightly, forcing a little smirk. "You've barely let go of it since you got here. Am I going to look into my study after you leave and find you've stolen half my books?"

Ed, however, did not respond to the gentle ribbing in the way that he'd hoped. He looked at him with a slow, almost dull sort of blink, rubbing at his tired eyes like it took him a moment to process the words. "No, all your stuff is on gaseous alchemy," he muttered after a moment, still rubbing his eyes. "I'm not interested in that at all."

"Not interested, perhaps, because it goes over your h-..." Roy blinked himself, smirk fading as he actually processed what had been said, mulling the words over in his head. He grappled with then for a moment, understanding slowly growing- then turned to stare at him in disbelief. "Fullmetal, did you decode my notes?"

This time, it was Ed's turn to smirk a little. Tired, small, but a genuine expression of smug contentment all the same. "I was bored," was all he said, sinking back into his pillow even more with obvious amusement.

At Roy's expense, of course.

After several stunned moments, he found himself just shaking his head, at a loss to even try and question him as to why or how on earth he'd pulled it off. If anyone could manage it, Ed could. "Right," he grumbled, surly, propping his head up on his hand. "And you didn't answer my first question."

Ed, however, did not get as tripped up by this as he'd hoped. The kid simply shut the notebook in his lap to hug it to his chest protectively, hiding it within the folds of the blankets and averting his eyes down to it. "Yeah, and you'll find out. Some day.'

"So you reading into my secrets doesn't win me the right to read a little into yours, then?"

Ed smirked a little again, still hugging his notebook. "It's not my fault your code was so easy to crack."

Roy frowned but remained silent, this time, willing to let that brewing argument lapse into silence. He knew he could trust Ed to keep whatever secrets he'd read, and knew Ed hadn't read into his notebooks with any sense of malice. Beyond that, he was simply too stressed and too tired, nowadays, to care.

And, by the way Ed was now slipping back into his blankets, again refusing to look at him as he curled around himself and hunched his shoulders, plainly awkward in the sudden, stretching silence- so was he. He was always stressed. He was always tired.

Roy sighed into the silence. A sense of finality settled quietly throughout the space between them as he watched the withdrawn, frowning boy before him, chasing away the uncertainty and hesitation that had been biting at his every doubt about this for weeks.

It was time for them to stop avoiding it.

"Look, Ed," he said quietly, leaning forward to fold his hands between his knees and for his gaze to rest steadily right onto him. Ed did not really look back at him just yet, but that was okay. "I know we haven't really talked about- anything that's happened. And I understand that it's different now. It's... harder. But..." Roy rubbed a frustrated hand through his hair, still struggling to actually put the speech he'd had all planned out into words. "But if there's anything at all that I can help... I'm willing, Ed. Or- not just willing, but-... I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I think, after everything, we can both say we're a little past judging each other for it. If you need something... I know I'm still your superior officer, but if you need support- I can be that, too. All you have to do is say it."

Ed fidgeted uncomfortably again. He stared even harder at his lap, even more withdrawn than before, and said nothing.

The time since they'd gotten their memories back had been hard on both of them, and in more ways than one.

To Roy, it felt like being two people at once. There was just himself, the person that he was and had always been before this and that had been found again when Ed had dug him out that fateful day- and then there was the him that had developed in that hospital with Ed. The same, yes, but also so very different it made his head spin, and it had taken weeks after that day to even try to get firm footing back as he tried to reconcile who he was meant to be with who he'd spent the last few months of his life actually being.

And his relationship with Ed had been more difficult to navigate than anything else.

With Maes, with Hawkeye, with his staff, with everybody else, it was manageable. It was a battle he could at least fight. He knew exactly how he was supposed to act and the person he was supposed to be, and even if many days he faked it more than he truly felt genuine, he could at least pull off that much. He may have felt nervous, fragile, or on his worst days, unstable, but he always had a reference for how he knew Colonel Mustang would act. He knew he could rely on that until he'd clawed his way back to something resembling normalcy, or at least be able to rely on Hughes and his staff not to judge him for what he'd been knocked downwards and broken into now, no matter how ashamed he was of being it.

But Ed was the exception.

He didn't have that reference for Ed anymore, because Ed had been there with him.

With everyone else he had a dynamic and role to remember and return to. With Ed he still had that, remembering their inherently supportive but argumentative, antagonistic relationship of months ago that had been dashed against the rocks in a split second by the whims of a brutal alchemist. He knew what they'd used to be and so did Ed.

And he also remembered what they'd grown into in the months after their whole lives had been stolen from them.

It was like having two different Roys and he didn't know which one he was supposed to be, and Ed could see it, because he knew Ed felt the same way. And he couldn't blame him. Remembering some of what they'd been through now- god, parts of it didn't even feel like Ed anymore. He remembered carrying a half-conscious, bleeding, distraught boy throughout the city on his back. He remembered Ed clinging to him that long night in terror, barely even half-conscious if that but just aware enough to know he was scared and trust Roy to keep him safe.

Hell, he remembered being the one to cling to Ed, when he'd found his way to Hughes' home yet hadn't been able to trust anyone enough to let him go.

After all of that, there was no going back to what they'd once been.

There was no normal, anymore.

Ed continued to fidget for several long, silent moments, staring down at himself as little more than a blanketed lump. His face reddened a little and he still wouldn't look up at Roy, but it was plain that he had been heard. He hesitated for a breath, fist now slowly kneading a a frayed, loose thread with his bangs shadowing his eyes from view.

"I know," he sighed at last, voice small. "And I'm not saying no. But right now, it's..."

"Hard," Roy filled in simply.

He understood the feeling quite well, and by the look on Ed's face, he wasn't very far off at all.

The kid nodded a little, still avoiding his eyes. "...yeah," he mumbled. "The way things are, I think I just need some space. Find my footing again, I guess." He paused again, finally starting to worm himself a little more out of his sunken corner of the couch to try and at least stop looking so tiny and withdrawn- even if he still existed as little more than as a small shape under the blankets. Then, with a steady breath and a palpable effort, he finally looked up at Roy with those shadowed, tired eyes... and this time cracked a small smile along with it. "I won't leave you hanging, though. I promise, you'll start hearing from us eventually, at least over the phone... I mean, come on. You're telling me you'd really be all right without me around to prop you up, bastard?"

It took a moment for Roy to restrain his small, surprised smile at those words, just relieved to not have gotten an argument back, and instead temper it down into an annoyed frown. "I still can not believe that the one detail you remembered about me was that. Of all things, that."

"Should tell you something, shouldn't it?"

"About how much of an impolite, rude brat you are? Yes, actually, I'd say it should..."

Ed rolled his eyes amusedly but didn't answer to this, instead allowing silence to fall as he pushed himself up into a more confident position. It was a more comfortable silence than before, though, and Roy relaxed with it, too, slipping back into his chair again to rest his head back against his hand, once again using his thumb to hide a small smile.

"So about that phone call you promised, then," he said after a few moments. This should surely be easier, now that he'd finally gotten Ed to just relax. "Any idea when that'll come?"

To this, however, Ed immediately went silent again. His gold eyes flickered away for a heartbeat, landing back on his overpacked luggage, and he slumped a little once more.

Roy's own hopes dimmed a little.

"Ed," he tried again, softer now. "I know I've been lenient with it thus far, but, at some point, I'll really need to know. You'll be allowed a lot of leeway, since you have to get acclimated back to your automail, but someone will come asking eventually and I'll need to give them something more concrete than the promise of an eventual phone call." He paused again, staring determinedly across the room hard enough to trap Ed's gaze back on him, refusing to allow him to look away this time. "When do you think you're coming back, Ed?"

"...It's complicated."

"Complicated."

"Yeah," Ed said shortly, sulking back into the couch again. "Complicated."

Roy gritted his teeth, trying to contain a frustrated sigh. And he'd thought he'd just managed to get through to Ed that he didn't need to do this... well. It wasn't as if he could be surprised. Ed simply wouldn't be Ed if he wasn't provoking that small, irritated flame of impatience in his chest, as difficult to work with as a thorny bush and, always as stubborn as a damn mule... "Ed," he sighed again, "you're not going to be able to hide forever. It's more than this, even... the military is distracted for now, but sooner or later questions are going to come, questions that you'll want to be there to answer." He paused for a moment again, trying to tempt Ed until finally looking up and acknowledging him with that little, but when it did not work he pushed himself forward to stare at him with such a hard gaze he knew Ed would have no choice but to answer him. "How Justin died? How you- how you didn't? Ed, I'm sorry, you deserve to not have to deal with any of this, but I can't protect you from it for very long. You can't avoid this."

"And I told you that it's complicated," Ed snapped back, stiffening a little. Finally there with the first spark of angry, irascible fire in his eyes, of life that beat away the exhaustion, but this time Roy was far too frustrated to take relief from it.

"Edward..."

Maes, god bless him, had been the saving grace of that day. Whatever the hell it was that had happened- because Roy still did not know, because Ed still would not explain it- Maes had worked his damage control the best he knew how and sworn as many of the witnesses to total secrecy as he could. So far, Roy had only gotten a few curious, non-official questions into the events of that day, and he'd been able to successfully deflect each and every one. Right now, there were just too many pressing matters that demanded the military's attention.

Roy wasn't so sure the reprieve was going to last.

He stared worriedly across the room to his subordinate again, this time his gaze lingering on his forehead, hidden by bangs but the spot still there. The unscarred, perfectly unblemished spot, where he knew Ed had been shot.

He'd seen it. He'd seen it with his own two eyes. He'd seen Ed get shot in the head. The blood spraying over his skin, the bullet tearing through his brain, because as brilliant as that brain was he could be brought down and reduced to nothing by one tiny bullet same as the rest of them- he'd seen him fucking die and he'd never felt anything like that in his life.

God, some nights, he still saw it.

And then he'd saw him get up again.

He didn't understand it. As far as he knew, not even Al knew the full story, because Ed very clearly did not want to talk about, and Roy had not yet had the heart to make him.

He didn't know how much Ed remembered about that day, but merely from Roy's point of view, he'd had to live through being shot- being killed- being possessed by some terrifying, alchemic force that he couldn't even begin to understand, then having that force turn him around to summarily execute his would-be murderer-

The Ed he knew wouldn't be okay with any part of that.

He wouldn't even be close to okay.

And Roy, for his part, would've more than willing to let him take his time with it and come to terms with what had happened in his own way, wanted nothing more than to protect him from the fallout and horror of that day, or at least try to cushion it's impact and dull it with time...

But he didn't know if they had that luxury.

All he did know was that he didn't want to take the risk of it.

Ed sighed stiffly again, worming a hand out of his blankets to pull at his braid instead, eyes downcast now. He opened his mouth several times, clearly wanting to say something but unsure how and looked more and more frustrated with himself as the silence dragged on, as if he knew something had to change but didn't know how to do it himself. When that frustration grew and eclipsed into distress, through, the nervous shadows eating away at his eyes in a way that was just too familiar, Roy found himself pushing up out of his chair without a second though, to instead join Ed on the couch beside him.

"You don't have to tell me now," he said gently after several moments, daring to rest a hand on the loose, empty folds of the blanket. "In fact, you don't ever have to tell me, if you don't want to. And Maes will be able to deflect attention away from you for a long time. But I just wanted to warn you that at some point, this could catch up to you, and I don't know how much I'll be able to protect you from it. You deserve the opportunity to prepare yourself for it."

Ed was quiet again for a long time.

He didn't pull away from Roy's hand, though. It wasn't much, but- but, god, it was worth something, and something was just what he would have to take.

In fact, he may have been imagining it- but he could've sworn he saw the kid shift just a little bit closer to him.

"You remember what happened the day we escaped, right?" Ed asked finally. His voice was even smaller than before, but steady, this time, and that alone was enough to reassure him. "How you found me, I mean?"

"I... yes. Of course." He hesitated, unsure how much he wanted to push or describe about that awful day. Sometimes, the Ed in his nightmares was that Ed, the one he'd found unconscious yet not, eyes open but dead, trapped all alone in that tiny room for weeks. "...What about it?"

Ed grimaced, continuing to avoid his gaze with an aura of unease, now. "A lot of things happened then that I didn't understand at the time... I guess some of those answers, I'll never get, now. Good riddance," he muttered with a dark, almost violent glare. "But that's when... when all of this just... started."

Roy waited for several moments worriedly, wanting to neither rush him nor derail him with unnecessary questions, but when Ed did not go on, he allowed himself one slow, single nod. "I'm listening," he assured quietly, patting at the empty space under the blankets again.

Ed tensed a little again, hugging his notebook just a little bit tighter.

"That day was different from all the others," he admitted finally, eyes downcast and voice small. Almost too small for him to bear. "In what they wanted me to do, I mean. I... I think Justin knew he was running out of time. I guess Hughes was closing in, or the people he was working with wanted him to close up shop, I don't know... whatever it was, by the way he was talking, he was planning for that to be the last time. Because the array he gave me that day... it wasn't the usual one." He broke off for another moment, quietly struggling with whatever it was he had to say; his nervous eyes flickered over Roy again as if unsure if he wanted to or was even able to go on.

Roy was growing more and more convinced that wherever this was headed, he wasn't going to like it- and more and more relieved that at least the person who'd put that terrible look onto Ed's face was already dead.

"He gave me an array for human transmutation," Ed finally said, voice hushed and small in the silence of his suffocating silence of his apartment, and Roy's heart lurched to a stop.

Human transmutation?

Human transmutation?!

Justin had... had made Ed...

The very first night that he'd met Ed flickered through his mind, of a small home choked with misery and despair, one boy much too big and empty as just a soul, the other much too small and bloody and in many ways, empty as just a body. He remembered the crippled, destroyed child he'd met that night, and then, he remembered that night he'd found Ed, trembling and terrified and all alone in his cell.

His blood boiled with a white hot rage, and for a heartbeat his hands tensed as if his gloves were already on, itching with the urge to destroy.

"H-he... he what?" he rasped, hand shaking from the empty folds of the blanket to Ed's shoulder, now, desperately trying to reassure himself. "He did what to you?"

Ed looked away again, obviously shaken himself but trying to hide it, pulling anxiously on his braid in a nervous gesture. "I think he was honestly just curious what would happen. He never said anything that made me think he thought it would work, or he actually wanted me to bring someone back for him... he just wanted to see what would happen to someone that did it. ...I... I h-honestly hink he was planning on killing me either way and figured that would pull it off for him" He shrugged a little as if trying to blow it off as no big deal but the tenseness in his jaw belied the lie, and this time he didn't even try to pretend he wasn't leaning into Roy's hand. "Makes sense, I- I g-guess... he'd spent months breaking one of the fundamental laws of alchemy with no consequence whatsoever, so I... I guess he wanted to see what would happen when he broke the other one."

Roy's stomach dropped, and for several impossible, tense heartbeats, his throat was nearly too tight to even breathe.

Justin had made Ed try and use the array that had already torn his life apart.

Justin had... had tried to kill him.

Again.

God, he should be dead, Roy realized, staring at him in horror. He should be dead twice over, not just from the day Justin had shot him in the head but first from this. He and Al would've died the first time, Al without a body and Ed bleeding to death in his empty house if Ed hadn't whipped out the quickest thinking and most dangerous array in all of recorded history. But there was nothing missing, Roy thought as he stared over him frantically, like somehow he might've missed a torn off limb this whole time, he was totally and completely whole- but that wasn't possible-

"What did he take from you?" he rasped again, barely stopping himself from dragging the blanket back himself to search him over with his hand. "He took something from you- Fullmetal, he took something, w-what was-"

"You can relax, okay, bastard. Roy. I'm fine." Ed shrunk back a little with another tired sort of groan, finally letting go of his braid to rub at his eyes again. He seemed to be doing anything possible to continue avoiding looking at Roy. "Truth's not... he's fair. He might play by his own rules in deciding just what fair is but he doesn't break those rules. And he decided that it wouldn't be fair to take something from me like that, not the way that I was. When I didn't have any choice in the matter and didn't even know what I was doing in the first place..." He breathed out a long, heavy sigh, this one tinted almost with something like defeat, and shut his eyes. "He said that for once in my life, I was innocent in it all. And that he didn't want to take a price from someone innocent."

Terror clenched tightly in his chest again, tightening away his breaths into shallow, tense little gasps as he stared over Ed, still searching him for even the slightest sign that he might have been unwell. Innocent? So this Truth had taken mercy on him that night, but not been merciful on two young children who just wanted their mother back? But... it had to be true... it was obvious that no toll had been paid. At least, not one that Roy could see. "So you got out of it unscathed...?" he murmured doubtfully, still eying him all over. "He didn't take anything from you?"

"...Not exactly."

Roy's jaw tightened.

Ed's wary eyes finally jerked over to meet his again, still nervous but finally holding his gaze, turning under his hand to fully face him at last. "Look, don't say anything about this to Al yet, okay? I'm- I'm going to talk to him. But I wanted to wait until we were home, a-and, he doesn't know yet, and he can't hear about it from anyone but me. He'll..." He swallowed hard, throat jumping and eyes suddenly lit with an anxious light, the one that made him look younger and smaller and reminded him so much of the tortured child he'd met in that hospital. "Please don't tell him," he said at last, voice dwindling even smaller, and Roy never could've had the heart to say no.

"Of course not. Of course I won't," he promised quietly. Al deserved to know, far more than he did, but it wasn't Roy's place to prompt that discussion. He knew part of Ed was still ashamed of what he'd been through, embarrassed to even say it. It was different with Roy, who already knew, who'd seen it, who'd been through so much of the same by his side- but Al had not. It was understandable that Ed would not want him to know.

And that was already discounting just how much this particular story would terrify his brother...

It was no wonder Al hadn't been told yet.

But Roy didn't know it, either, and right now, Roy was far too worried about what might have happened, what could've been stolen from Ed, to even try to press that discussion for even one second longer.

"...we made a deal," Ed said finally, again turning his head away to try and shadow and hide his eyes with his hair. "Well. Truth did. I didn't really have a choice. But the Gate... it doesn't really work like that. Truth couldn't just unilaterally decide not to take anything form me. I still had to go through the Gate and the Gate always takes something. That's it. There's no way around it. So he had to take something from me, and that day... he decided he was going to take the only thing that he could to try and make this right. Equivalent." He broke off for another hesitant moment, working his fingers again through his hair. "He decided he was going to take my free will."

Roy, midway through slowly squeezing Ed's shoulder, carefully maintaining his own silence so Ed could tell this story in his own way, jerked to a stop. He managed one stunned, amazingly ineloquent splutter.

Truth had what?

"It's- it's not as bad as it sounds," Ed tried weakly, but his attempt at a smile fell flat and the shadows that so frequently chased his eyes these days were now back and in full force. "I think Truth knew something like that day at HQ was going to happen. He told me there was going to come a time when equivalence could be balanced again through me, and when that time came, he was going to do it, and then the deal was over. Once he'd acted against Justin and anyone else complicit in how he'd tried to cheat the Gate, then our deal would be ended. It's not like I've given him carte blanche to break any time for the rest of my life. There was an expiration date, I just didn't know when it'd be back then."

The disturbingly blase, almost determinedly non-effected way Ed spoke flew in the face of sanity, and for a moment Roy barely even knew what to think. He shook his head several times, staring blankly down at him in utter disbelief, then found himself abruptly battling with the sudden urge to just draw him into a relieved hug. "S-so that's what happened that day," he fumbled weakly, forcing himself to settle for just squeezing his shoulder instead. "The way you just... that thing you turned into. It was him. It was the deal you made."

Again, the kid gave him a small, restrained little nod. He began to relax a little, easing slightly more into his hand as his face eased into something just a little more understanding. He seemed relieved now that he'd finally gotten that much of it out, like a great weight had finally been eased off his shoulders, and in that long-awaited easing of tension that had for so long shadowed him like an invisible anchor Roy finally realized that he was the first person Ed had managed to tell this story to. He'd been carrying this around with him for months, even the weeks he'd been quiet and withdrawn here after getting his memory back- and this was the first time he'd been able to have anybody listen to him for it.

This time, Roy actually did shift closer to him, drawing a warm arm around his blanketed shoulders to gently press him against his side. Ed made a small, restrained noise in his throat, his next breath shuddering, and close his eyes tightly for a moment as he evidently fought to regain control of himself.

"It's done now, then?" he asked quietly, when Ed finally felt a little calmer against him. "You know he can't ever just... take over you like that again?"

Ed gave another little nod, the motion brushing gently against his arm as he let out a second shuddering breath as a nervous sigh. "It's done. I'm sure of it. He got everything he wanted out of it." There was another moment of hesitation, the alchemist bowing his head a little to stare down into his lap, troubled and quietly distressed and not even trying to hide it anymore. "I mean, I'm not happy he used me to kill people... I fucking hate it. I hate that I remember just- just pulling the trigger and seeing his face as he died. No matter what he did to us I hate knowing that. But I couldn't have stopped him if I'd tried. I had no more control over myself during that than I could've controlled you."

"You're... you're sure, then?" Roy pressed. He knew Ed probably would give anything to just drop it, but he could not help himself. The quiet fear collecting around his heart would not be sated until he was just as sure as Ed evidently was that this was over. "Did he say something to you, or-?"

"Yes, Roy, I'm sure," Ed cut in exasperatedly, now huffing at him with a stubborn sort of glare that burned over the quiet memory of uncertain fear that continued to flicker darkly in his eyes. "I know because I wouldn't have my memory back otherwise. That was always the deal, bastard. I'd have to go through the Gate again, and in exchange Truth got his payment. Our deal wasn't settled until Truth got everything I owed him, and until then I didn't wasn't going to get what I earned, either. What I got from the Gate. " He glared at him sullenly again, sulking under his arm still without pulling away, hair still shadowing his eyes and face stuck in a stubborn sort of frown. "The array that I used that was on you, that got your memories back- mine was activated all the way back then in the Gate. I just wasn't allowed the benefits from it until I'd paid my toll in full. And... and after he used me that day, I had." He huffed as he looked away again, shaking his head vehemently in exasperation and still frowning still hunched over, still all but sulking. "Whatever the hell he was talking about, looking forward to seeing us again... that was something different. I don't know what it was, and I don't have any idea what you have to do with it or why he was talking about you, but- it's not from this. This deal is done."

He broke off there for a moment again, still glaring into the his lap and strangely young face still tensed and shadowed. He opened his mouth, seeming about to spit something angry out once more, then abruptly went quiet. His shoulders slumped, and his face just fell.

"...Sorry," he mumbled after a couple of thick, worried seconds. He swallowed hard again, voice wavering, and sent one brief, nervous flicker of a glance up at Roy before he leaned back into his shoulder, half-hiding his face against his arm. His voice was small again, dwindled back down to become quiet and almost meek, and he shrunk back, stubborn petulance morphing into withdrawn misery with little more than a breath. "I've been... worrying a lot about that. I mean. Like I said. The deal is paid and done, and I know it is, h-he's not coming back, but I... I can't help but..."

"You can't help but think that he's going to come back," Roy finished for him quietly.

This time, it took a few more seconds, but Ed finally answered him with one small, silent nod.

And Roy, with a miserable sense of trepidation, finally understood.

This was why Ed had been... like this for weeks. The whole time that he'd been here- and this was why.

It wasn't just the trauma of what he'd been through- as if that was not wholly enough on its own and then some.

It was the fear of Truth coming back.

This time, Roy could not help himself from drawing his arm tighter around him to pull the trembling alchemist into a tight, close hug. Ed stiffened at first, going tense against his side, but after a silent breath of silence finally just melted, all but collapsing to wrap his one arm back around him and bury it into his shoulder.

"He k-kept saying he was going to see us again," he choked out desperately, "he kept saying he was going to come back," his voice even tinier than before, and Roy could do nothing but hold him tighter.

There was no promise of protection that Roy could give that would be meaningful. He couldn't protect him from this, and Ed knew it.

After all, Truth had made the same promise to him: he was going to see him again someday.

He was going to come back.

And they did not know what that meant. They did not know why the force of all rhyme and reason in their world had announced that he, Edward, and Alphonse were all going to see him again, and soon- but they both knew that, here and now, any promises that Roy made to stop it would be lies.

All he could do, instead, was this.

It was all he'd been able to do for months in that hospital, and even now, months after they'd escaped it... somehow, it was still all he had.

And it was enough.

It had to be.

"You'll be okay, Ed," he assured him quietly, running a hand down his shaking back. "Whatever happens, you'll get through it. I know you will." Ed had already made it through this much, he'd made it through objectively worse when he'd had nothing, not even his own memories, not even his own brother to rely on- just his own strength and Roy. If he'd made it this far with that little, he knew that whatever was to come, he'd make it through that, too.

Roy was sure of it.

"You won't have to answer any questions about this that you don't want to," he promised after a long silence, only forging forwards when he had felt Ed start to finally relax fully against him, shuddering breaths fading into something that he could control. "Maes and I will be able to distract from it for as long as we have to."

Ed managed a short, shaken little nod. He was still at first, perfectly unmoving against him, but then, with another shuddering breath, pushed gently at his shoulder to withdraw, settling back into his own space instead. "Thanks," he mumbled awkwardly, eyes downcast again, but the uncomfortable and unsettled air from before was gone, and Roy knew that was all he could hope for

"You can stay in Risembool for as long as you need to, as well," he told him, and this, he meant, too. It would look better for him if all his subordinates were ship shape and ready to help in the aftermath of this crisis, but as far he was concerned, this was more than worth the hit to his reputation. "It's going to take the military a long while to get around to wondering where you're at, with all the trials and infrastructure and PR we've got to get started on... they won't be after you for a long while. And even then they'll want to examine you before they really let you come back. You'll have more than enough time."

The words were meant to just be a passing comfort, assure him absentmindedly that he had more than enough time to heal before he even had to worry about any of this. To remind him of how much bureaucracy and irrelevant paperwork and red hoops were between him and having to return, that even when the questions started coming he'd be able to stall for however long he needed until he was truly ready to come back so he had nothing he needed to worry about.

But it was to these words that Ed, again, stiffened.

It was slight, just a small tenseness in his shoulders and new darkness in his eyes, but after everything that they had been through together, Roy knew him better than he knew himself, and he saw the sudden uneasiness before he'd even fully realized what it was. His own spirits fell a little, tempered by the suddenly withdrawn look on his face, and he again found himself thinking very carefully about what he was going to say next.

It wasn't hard for him to predict, after all, just why those words had prompted that look on his face.

"It won't be anything bad," he promised slowly, gently rubbing a hand down his arm again. "I'll have to have it done before you, so I'll be able to tell you what it'll be like... trust me, they'll just want to make sure you're healthy enough to take missions. Probably just the same physical the Rockbells will give you at home, maybe another certification test, just to make sure your alchemy is still solid, and then an interview or two with a psychiatrist. That's all."

This explanation did not relax the tense, withdrawn form by his side, small and with a fist now clutching anxiously somewhere in-between the blankets and Roy's sleeve.

In fact, it did not even come close.

Roy didn't find himself very surprised by this, either.

"...it won't be that bad, Ed," he assured quietly, shifting around a little so he could look down to meet Ed's nervous, flitting gaze with his own, hand slipping around from his shoulder to gently nudge his face into looking back up at him. "I promise you, it's only standard. They'd do it for anyone in our positions... it's more of a formality than anything. That's all. You can even have it done in my office if you like. And they won't be able to even do anything to you... worst case, they'll just ask you to spend a little longer on vacation. That'll be all that they can make you do." He broke off for a tense moment, searching his withdrawn, haunted face, trying to find something in there that was willing to listen, open to being reassured. "They can't do anything to you that you don't want them to. I promise... even if they could, I wouldn't let them."

Because it was no question that that was what he was afraid of.

He'd simply spent too long being controlled, stripped of his freedom and agency, and hurt by a pack of psychiatrists that told him he had no choice- that it was for his own good- to trust anybody who came to him with such words again.

Roy, at least, had something to compare to it. After Kimbley's psychotic break years ago had cost the military dozens of lives, more than one officer, and a public relations nightmare, they'd at least started going through the motions with the rest of their State Alchemists to try and catch the next violent psychopath before they'd need a combat team to do so. Roy knew what to expect and the right things to say. Ed, because Ed ha been shielded by most such protocols by his young age and Roy himself for years, did not. Ed had every right to want to run from it with every fiber of his being.

But, Roy's attempts at reassuring him, were also clearly not working.

Ed kept his eyes averted from him for a long time, shoulders hunched just a little like he was trying to hide his face yet not doing a very good job at it. Roy wasn't sure what more to say, how else to try and convince him it was going to be okay, and swiftly decided that there just wasn't any words at all. Ed was too smart for empty platitudes to be what was needed. He knew there was too little that Roy could actually control with his own hands, too much that the military might decide that Roy could not stop. All that would put Ed's worries at ease would be actually going through the process himself, and coming out of it whole on the other side.

At least- that was what Roy had thought.

And as such, he had not been prepared for Ed's next words in the slightest.

"...a-actually?" the kid mumbled. He wrapped his arm around himself a little tighter, as if wanting to shrink back to hide or perhaps just melt into the floor and disappear entirely. He took another breath, this one fighting to steady itself and strengthen his voice, then pushed himself up just a little, just barely turning his gaze back to Roy. "Actually, I'm... not so sure I'm coming back."

Roy, midway through another attempt to come up with something calming to say, found his brain stuttering directly to a halt.

Ed fidgeted a little. After a long stretch of an impossible silence, he coughed and looked away again, like he just couldn't take the scrutiny anymore, continuing to alternately pull at loose threads and his braid. Roy still did not know what to say.

"And," he finally managed, every sword careful and every gesture tense, "why exactly would that be?"

Ed shrunk back just a little more.

"You know the whole reason I joined at all was to find a philosopher's stone for Al," he muttered, still picking at threads, still staring pointedly away. He curled up again, all still without shrugging off Roy's arm. "Well, going through the Gate doesn't just take things from you. Tt gives you knowledge, too. ...well, I've been through it three times, now. And from all that I've learned, I'm not so sure that the stone is even real. Or if it is, it's got a price higher than Al and I would be willing to pay."

Roy's eyes narrowed, suspicion and caution still eating greedily at the edges of his mind, a heavy shadow casting over his heart. "What do you mean?" There was something here that Ed wasn't saying, he could hear it in his quiet, almost stifled voice alone...

"I'm not... sure, exactly." Ed shook his head a little, frown deepening. "I haven't been able to fully think through it yet. But a philosopher's stone is cheating the Gate- that's what it is. And you saw just like me what happens if you try to do that. Truth always gets even. So either the stone does not exist, or whatever it is that goes into the stone makes it equivalent. If the stone does exist... I can already tell you it's not worth it to me and Al. We have a line and whatever is in that damn thing crosses it."

"But that's not..." With a frustrated shake of his head, Roy pushed himself back a little himself so he could get a better look at Ed's face, narrowing his eyes to search for the truth, because what Ed was telling him wasn't. "That's not a reason to leave. Even if you're giving up on the stone I know you're not giving up on a way to get your bodies back. There's some array out there and you can find it. Ed, if- if you're worried about working with us after all that's happened, I can understand that, but at least don't lie to me about this."

I can't protect you if you don't let me, was what he meant at heart, and he knew that Ed heard that part of it, too. Every word.

Because Ed quickly sulked again, this time with a more petulant sort of reluctant smile than before, the tired tension in his jaw fading for his gaze to dart back up to him again. "You're too smart for your own good, you know that, bastard?"

Roy smiled a little himself, patting his shoulder again. "No, Ed, I'm afraid that that is you. I'm just barely clever enough to keep up when you decide to go off running circles around the rest of us."

The kid huffed this time, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Yeah, whatever, bastard," he said easily, but this time, his grin quickly faded, sobering back into a distant stare as uncertainty shadowed across his tired face again. He looked so young again, so small and young that he just might've seemed to be the child that he really was, and somehow, at the same time, old beyond his years. Old, and jaded, and so, so tired.

"I don't have everything concrete yet," he finally told him carefully, averting his eyes. "It's actually what I've been working out this whole time, and no I won't show it to you, because it's not done yet. But after going through the Gate again... talking with Truth... it got me thinking, and I- well it gave me an idea." He hesitated again, chewing anxiously on his lower lip, suddenly hugging his notebook back close to him in an unconscious gesture of privacy, as if he was afraid of it being stolen and read before he was ready for it. "It's just an idea, I haven't committed to anything yet, just an idea, that's all... I, um... I haven't even told Al yet." He shrugged, lowering his eyes as a hint of color warmed his cheeks with a nervous heat that he'd never have seen from Ed before, but that their ordeal had forced into him and hadn't let go. "I don't want to get his hopes up if I'm wrong."

Roy searched him carefully again, examining the tense light of his eyes even as he battled the sudden emotion in his own chest, the twin rises of excitement coupled with something unhappier- something closer to apprehension. "You don't think you're wrong, though."

"...No."

There was another short silence. This time, the look on his face egged on the apprehension tightening in his throat before the excitement, and his own smile faded into a thin line.

The fact that Ed was not cheering for joy right now, bragging about his array, and all but jumping at the chance to try that array out right this second could only mean one thing.

"Edward," he told him quietly. Not gently, this time, but with a quiet hint of steel underneath his name, a hint of steel that he would translate into a grip of one on his wrist, if he tried to protest still. The one thing that he was sure of was that the boy was not going anywhere on his watch, now, not until he knew it was safe. God, if Ed was really considering this... if he'd really been sketching such a nightmarish array out for weeks... "Alphonse will not want you to get him his body back in exchange for your own life. And if you try to rationalize it to yourself otherwise, I will tell him about this, and stop you."

An upset, revulsed sort of look shuddered across Ed's face, expression contorting for a heartbeat as he shook his head hard, messy hair swishing over his face with something close to a groan. "N-no. I- I- no. I w-would- would never-"

"I've already told you once today, Fullmetal: don't lie to me."

Ed shuddered violently again, but this time it was shame twisting his face as he ducked his head, trying to hide it, but Roy knew him too well to fall for it. He tried to shrink away, again averting his gaze, but this time Roy did not let him go.

"I-" he half-choked, then groaned again, desperately rubbing at his face with a shaking hand. "Okay, I've thought about it. Or- or used to. When I was younger. B-but just as a, a l-last resort- and that wasn't even what I meant now!"

"It's not a last resort. Nobody, least of all your brother, wants you to die for this. None of us would accept that even if it was the only way."

"Well fine, then, because that wasn't even what I was talking about! I'm not fucking crazy, Roy, I may be pretty fucking messed up right now b-but I'm not crazy! I would never do that to Al!" He shook his head frantically, eyes all but wild as he just shook his head over and over again, breaths stuttering and that hand still hugging his notebook to his chest so tight his knuckles were white. "I- t-they took Al away from me and I nearly couldn't do it and I didn't even know what I was missing. They took him away from me a-and, and Al thought- he didn't know where I was or if I was okay and he's told me how scared he was, I see it in him all the time, he doesn't want to even let me out of his sight- he doesn't even want me to go back into the military either! He doesn't have to say it, I know he doesn't! He's s-so... so worried about me, a-all the time now, I- and I can't fix it- I'd never hurt him like that, n-not again, never again, I'd- I-"

He stumbled over the frantic runaway train of his speech with another gasped whimper, wiping his eyes now as he shook his head back and forth and fought to keep on speaking but his voice splintered and shattered apart irrecoverably.

Once again it was little more than simple instinct for regret to clench around Roy like a cloak, tightening around him until it hurt to breathe, and for him to pull Ed back close to his side.

And oh, he did regret it now. He did regret ever even floating the possibility.

He should've trusted Ed enough to know that he wouldn't do that. Not because Ed valued his own life enough, or didn't value his brother's body more than enough to give up everything for it- but because he knew what it would cost those around him if he did it.

He knew Al would never be happy for it.

No... it was more than that, Roy realized as Ed trembled against him, eyes squeezed shut as he heaved in shallow breath after shallow breath, shuddering as if with the shock of it, the own memory of what he'd been through and what it had put Al through because of it.

Because what they'd been through together had shown Ed that it wasn't just Al who cared about him anymore. The brothers had always, in some ways, been alone. They'd had each other, and for a long time, that had been enough- and that had been all.

But having it all stripped away had showed that that wasn't true anymore.

For either of them.

Hughes and Hawkeye and his team; they'd all been there for Ed even when Ed hadn't remembered them, they had more than proven themselves as ironclad friends who cared for him and wouldn't stop supporting him no matter what. And in a way, what had happened had proved that in Roy, too, a hundred times over.

Ed might not have valued his own life enough, but he did value theirs. And that, Roy knew, was what was most important.

He remembered from his own dangerous flirtations with a dangerous array, a wish to make everything right, and correct for a sin for which he could still never atone for, many, many years ago. He remember that Hawkeye wresting the gun or chalk out of his hands hadn't been what had stopped him, nor had it been Maes in desperation, tearfully shouting that it wasn't his fault and that it would get better, that he'd been worth more than this...

It'd been the realization that, no matter how little he cared for his own life back in those darkest of days- how much he might've believed he didn't deserve to live- he would tear his friends' lives apart even more than they already had been. That there was at least something he could do to make things right while he was still alive and he didn't deserve the easy way out, and his friends didn't deserve what what would do to them, either.

And Ed had that now, too.

He knew it wasn't just Al that would be devastated if something were to happen to him.

It was the one slim positive, from all the torment they had survived through together, and while it wasn't even close to worth it- it was going to have to be enough, Roy determined, pulling Ed just a little closer to his side again.

For Ed to know he had people to support him now, and to have that to hang on to even with his faith in the philosopher's stone fading while his conviction to restore his brother was not...

That was enough.

"There is a toll," Ed whispered finally into his shoulder. His voice was tiny, almost hushed entirely, but still steady. Still there. "There is a payment that I'd have to give, but it's not my life."

Roy was quiet for a moment, saying nothing, listening to the still unsteady breathing hitching every so often against his side. "And would Al agree that the payment is worth it?" he asked at length, holding himself still.

Again, there was a long silence.

"I don't know," Ed admitted at last. "I... I'm going to wait to ask. I want to make sure it'll work first, before I tell anyone. I don't think I can ask Al about it until then. But... I will. I know you're worried about me, and I guess I c-can't stop you... but I won't do anything before telling him. I know I can't do this alone- that I can't do that to any of you."

For a heartbeat, Roy found himself biting back the strange urge to laugh. As if Ed could really forge his way ahead alone anyway. As if they would let that happen. Instead, he merely shook his head slightly, allowing himself a faint smile, and squeezed the arm around his shoulders again.

Only for Ed to abruptly pull away.

"Hey," the kid said suddenly, and his eyes were focusing on him again with a steady, new strength that they hadn't had before. "Hey, um. I know this is all- none of this is concrete yet, I guess, I don't even know if this'll work, I don't even know if I can leave the military yet, but I- if it does all work out. Well, you know Al's my first priority, but... it goes both ways, bastard. If I'm gonna be calling you to ask you what you think about what I'm doing, you're gonna be calling me if you ever need something. Okay?" He prodded him hard in the arm, smile still a little unsteady and eyes still haunted with the perpetual shadow of wariness and fear- but his voice was steady and true, and his smile was genuine all the same. "I know you've got plans, I know you've got things you want to do, too, and you can't pull them off alone. So you're not leaving me behind, either. You got that? I'm showing up when you need help, because you will, and I don't care how many excuses or deflections you try to send me away with. You don't get to try and take care of me and Al now without realizing that it goes both ways, bastard."

Roy started, blinking at the prod to his arm, then again at the warm smile, and then yet again at the sudden, confident words that had quite cleanly shattered through every attempt he'd made to focus and orient this conversation around Ed. He stared back at him, for just a heartbeat left breathless to that warm, familiar confidence before him and utterly without words to the light jab tied in with the promise of support- the support he'd been so busy trying to give, he hadn't remembered that Ed wasn't the only one who was going to need it.

And then, like a switch had been flipped, or perhaps just broken in his brain, he laughed.

He started laughing, quietly and gently but he just couldn't stop, and smiled right back and nodded, shifting around to pull Ed back into his side again. "All right," he chuckled weakly back, squeezing him gently as he leaned his head up against Ed's. "You've got it, Fullmetal." He squeezed him again, absently wiping at his eyes with one wavering hand as something that had been coiled tight, tight, and tighter in his chest, tight when he'd woken up a stranger in a hospital and tighter with every day that he'd spent there suffering and Ed suffering with him, tighter every day that he'd gone still a stranger in his own head- and with Ed's words to him now, finally, it loosened. He rolled his eyes again as Ed pushed lightly at his arm, not a rejection but instead of a gesture of affection, in his own way, and squeezed him back. "You've got it."

Soon after this, Roy knew, they were going to go their separate ways. He was going to stay here, and Ed was going to go back to Risembool with his brother, and for a long time, that was the way it was going to be. They were both going to stay and heal with their friends and family, in the only homes they knew, because for now, that was what they needed.

But Ed had a home here with him, and Roy knew now that he, too, had one with Ed. And when Ed called him in the coming weeks and months, telling him how he was healing, his plans were with Al, the military, the future, and when Roy would some day call him, and tell him that he needed his help- he knew Ed would answer that call. Just as Roy would answer his.

They had lost everything, together.

And now, dragging each other across the finish line inch by inch, scar by scar, months and months of suffering and being lost and without so much as a friendly hand with which to pull themselves up with in the dark... they had gotten it all back.

And more.