Title: Promise to Keep
Author's Note: SPOILERS FOR 108
Word Count: 500
Characters: Jean Havoc, Roy Mustang, Tim Marcoh, Heymans Breda, and Maria Ross.
Summary: Jean had a long way to go before he could keep his promise.
After the Promised Day came and went, nothing really changed in Jean Havoc's hometown- he was still working at his parent's store. The summer came with a vengeance, one of the hottest he could remember. He was awoken from his bored daze by the tinkle of the bell attached to the front door, smiling when he heard an all too familiar bass voice.
“Lieutenant Jean Havoc.”
“I'm not a Lieutenant any more.”
“You know, you're falling further behind, Lieutenant.”
Jean sighed, annoyance creeping into his voice. “Pardon me, sir. I think you should understand. I've been stuck here for a while now.”
“No you aren't, Lieutenant. Not any more.” The man who came in with Mustang stepped forward. “This is Doctor Marcoh. He can help you.” Marcoh held up a small vial with a red liquid inside- Jean wasn't a genius, but he knew what that was.
“It won't cure everything.” Marcoh started. “You'll be able to feel your legs, but your muscles are atrophied, and it's going to be a lot of hard work to stand and walk.”
“If you agree to this, I'll arrange for an apartment in Central, a physical therapist, and a job under me- with a recommission and a promotion to First Lieutenant for bravery in the face of adversity. It's a deal, then?” Roy offered his hand to Jean.
He grasped the hand tightly, then saluted. “What're my orders, General?”
The all too familiar smirk returned to Roy's face. “Stand up and follow me.”
“Come on, just a few more steps, Jean.”
“Look you're almost to the end, and your chair is waiting, so you can sit down as soon as you get there.”
Sweat poured off of Jean's brow, flattening his spiky bangs to his forehead. His tank top was stuck to his skin, and the only thing keeping his slick hands from slipping off of the wooden bars were the gloves that he was wearing.
“Come on, Havo. One more step.”
He glared over at his best friend. “You're lucky I can't come over there and punch you, Breda.
“Then get your ass walking and come get me!”
“Breda, you're supposed to be encouraging him, not giving him a hard time.”
“Believe me, Ross, this is the best kind of encouragement he can get.”
One more step, and he made it to his chair, where he promptly collapsed into a heap. Breda came over and slapped his best friend on the shoulder. “Hey, ya made it!”
Jean nodded his head. He had done it, made his way across the whole bar. It had taken months to get to this point, but it had been worth it to see the world like he had before the incident.
He knew that he still had a long way to go, but he had a promise to keep, after all.