More lonely, angsty!Roy. Poor guy, the movie really dealt him an empty hand. This can be seen as a follow-up to 'After', or stand on its own.
SPOILERS for the movie.
Of course, I do not own FMA. As always, that's probably a good thing.
Comments are always appreciated.
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The rain from the growing storm outside beat steadily against the windowpane, intermittent flashes of lightning the only illumination of the small, dark room in which Roy Mustang sat.
The rain, Roy mused, staring out the window. It is so close to me now, but I can't feel it, can't touch it. The falling waters are nearer to my face than the glass of brandy in my hand, but for all the effect it has upon me, it may as well not be there at all.
Roy took a sip of his brandy, rest the glass back on his knee, and continued to stare out the window.
That's what it was like. He was so close to me, having appeared out of nowhere. He was so close to me, but I couldn't touch him, couldn't hold him close the way I longed to. I hadn't even realized how much I needed him until it was too late, and he was gone. Just gone without a trace, so signs, no marker to tell us where he might have gone, like a ghost in the night he was swept from this world, leaving behind a little brother back in the flesh. The same little brother that had been screaming in my arms as his sibling, having come back for such a short time, deigned to leave us once again, allowing our already fragile hearts to break a little more, having gotten back what we had so desperately longed for for such a long lime, and then to have it so cruelly ripped from us once again. How could I have not let Alphonse go? It would have been too cruel to hold onto the poor boy, to allow him to watch as his brother left him once again, and probably forever. Forever. Wherever they are, in that world beyond the gate where Edward and Alphonse are now, I have no delusions of them ever coming back.
He finished his drink, the familiar burn of the brandy warming his body, although his heart still felt as though it were enclosed in a block of ice.
It's been how many years now? Decades, even? I can't remember anymore. I tried to move on, I tried to go back to Central, to work my way back up from the pit I had fallen into, but in the end it was futile. I think a part of me knew it was. As confident as I was when fighting those invaders, it was only because of Ed; I found strength is his very presence. When he turned and walked away from me again, I tried to be strong, even though I wanted so badly to weep. It took me almost a week to be able to destroy that array. I even considered leaving it, although that wouldn't have been what Ed wanted, and so it had to go.
He rose to his feet, slightly unsteady from the alcohol he had been consuming.
'You can't drink so much anymore, Roy,' his mind admonished as he made his way across the room to his small bed. 'You're too old to be acting like a child. The grey at your temples is spreading, you're getting wrinkles on that face you were once so proud of. And how long has it been since you've gotten laid? Ten years? Fifteen? More? And to think, you were once such the ladies man. You can't just wait for someone who will never come back. You know better. Somewhere, he and his brother have made a new life for themselves, a life that you're not a part of. They don't need you anymore. Maybe they never did. You're a pathetic man, you know that, don't you? It's too late for you to find anyone. You're gong to be alone the rest of your miserable life. You should have just married one of those girls, like Hughes kept telling you to. What do you think that he would think if he could see you now? He'd be disgusted. Because that's what you are. Disgusting, worthless, nothing. You're nothing.'
Roy groaned, curling up in a fetal position on his bed, tears of shame and self-loathing sliding down his face, wetting the thin blankets below. Even his own subconscious was attacking him. He really was lower than low.
Edward would laugh at me, mock me to no end if he could see the once-great Flame Alchemist now. I just know it. I bet he found himself a pretty little wife somewhere, had a few kids, and is finally living the happy, normal life I always hoped for him to have. Maybe he tells his children stories of the land of Alchemy, where their dad was a hero who saved us all from those monsters. Maybe he told them of the valiant General who took on the evil leader.
Roy let out a mirthful laugh at his last thought.
Brigadier General Mustang, yup, that's me. I had that title for how long, a week? If even that? It was so long ago, its hard to remember. Not that it matters. I'm not a general, I'm not the Flame Alchemist. I'm no one. I killed a homunculus, avenged the death of my best friend, helped to save the country… and yet I couldn't manage to save myself.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the room just long enough for Roy to see the time on the clock on the far wall. 3:00 am. He needed to be awake in a mere four hours, ready to spend another day standing post in this forgotten place. At least it wasn't the cabin in the snow he had been stuck at when first ostracized by the military, stripped of rank and sent off to freeze. Now it was another lonely cabin in the middle of nowhere, the cold white powder replaced by unceasing rains and violent winds. It was nearly a days walk to the nearest town, where he bought provisions with his meager military stipend. Mostly, he bought alcohol, and food. Not good food, since he only made the trip once a month, and needed what he bought to be light enough to be able to carry back, as well as substantial to last him through to his next trip. Dried fruits, noodles, and brandy, always more brandy. It was all that kept him going. He really didn't know why he bothered to keep his military schedule; they had all but forgotten he existed. He had stopped filing reports years ago; he was surprised they kept sending him money. He suspected that the last had something to do with General Hawkeye. Even after all this time, she still remembered him. Or at least he liked to believe she did. He wondered vaguely how long it would take anyone to notice if he died up here, isolated on this lonely mountain.
The man who runs the general store/post office/bank in the village might notice eventually, when I stopped coming in to buy supplies. Or maybe he would just pocket the money sent by the military, and not let them know. I'm too cynical, I know. But what am I to those people? A lonely old soldier who wanders in from the hills once a month, stays a night in the inn, then hikes off again. I've been going there regularly for years, and I don't think anyone there remembers my name. No, that's not true- the innkeeper knows me. Not by my name, but the old woman always has a room ready and a pot of coffee on. Coffee would be nice up here. It's a treat to have, almost worth the trips down the mountain. Almost, but not quite.
He lay back on the hard bed, ignoring the damp cold, trying to fall asleep, but he just kept seeing golden eyes and honey hair. His mind's eye had settled on Edward once again, and wasn't going to let go.
Fine, so I'll think about him. What is there to say? I didn't realize how much he meant to me until it was too late. But he was just a boy, trying to find his own path. And I had my own ambitions. Had he stayed, nothing would be different, not really. I always knew that once he restored his brother, that they would somehow disappear. I never imagined how much it would hurt, though.
Hey lay awake in bed, staring into the shadows. I was going to be somebody, something great. I was going to make up for everything I did and was forced to do in the war. I was going to watch as Havoc finally got a girlfriend and smile at his wedding, telling him that it was about damn time. I was going to help Fury climb the ranks to be the gentle voice of reason that was so needed among the officers. To someday beat Breda at shoji, even if I would have had to cheat. To see Elysia grow, to become a woman that her father would be proud of. Now I'd be surprised if she so much as remembered my name. I used to send presents, but what's the use now? I'm not the man I was. To pretend that I am would be a lie that I can't tell. Not anymore.
Roy groaned and rolled onto his side, clutching a pillow tightly to his chest. It was nearly morning when his eyes finally closed. Oblivious to all, to schedules, to duties, to all else in the world, Roy slept. In his dreams he held close the man he loved, running his fingers through the long, golden hair and lightly kissing pink lips. And in his dream, Roy Mustang was finally happy.