Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes
Disclaimer: Rather silly.
Author's Note: I got this idea from clinicly8insane, who got the idea from h_mania. So I want to thank both of them.
"Look, doesn't it sparkle, just like her eyes?"
Roy groaned, slapping his hand to his head. "Hughes, you have already shown me the ring a dozen times!" He looked around the room full of his subordinate officers. He had tried not to yell to get their attention, but apparently it hadn't worked. He flashed them a look- a look they all knew well, and immediately they all got back to work.
"Yeah, but it's the only thing that can even remotely compare to her beauty!" Maes held up the ring to the light. Gold glinted of the ultra smooth surface, reflecting a glimmer back onto the man who held it. A single diamond set in the middle of the band was the only thing that broke up the perfect circle.
"Maes." Roy sounded defeated, talking more into his hand than to his friend. "Why don't you stop showing it to me, and start showing it to her? You've been carrying that thing around in your pocket for close to a month now! Ask her to marry you already and stop bothering me!" Roy couldn't hold back the annoyance in his voice.
He looked hurt for a minute, his lip puffing out in a slight pout. He fingered the ring for another moment, then dropped it back into his pocket, looking utterly defeated. "I am. Tonight. I have a dinner reservation at Le Cellier, one of the finest places in town. It took me several weeks to get the reservation. That is why I have been holding onto the ring for so long."
Roy look up at his friend, feeling bad for just a moment that he had yelled at him a moment ago. But as fast as the moment came, it passed, as Maes' smile grew and he got more excited about his plans for the night.
"I'm gonna go all romantic on her. Candlelight, violin music, and after dinner the waiter will bring us champagne. They will put the ring in the glass!" He was grinning broadly by the time he finished explaining his plan- any hurt over what Roy had said a moment ago seemingly forgotten.
"You better make sure she doesn't swallow it." Roy smiled and gave his friend a mischievous smirk.
Hughes frowned for just a moment. "You sure know how to bring a man down, don't you?"
Roy clapped him on the back. "What are best friends for?"
Title: These Two Hands
Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes
Rating: PG for violent images and suicidal thoughts.
Disclaimer: Angsty post Ishbal Roy.
Somewhere deep inside of his drunken mind, Roy knew that he needed to stop it, but his reflexes has long since been muddled, and he could only watch in what seemed like slow motion as the bottle slipped from his hand.
He grunted some unintelligible noise that didn't sound like any word in the human language as the amber liquid slowly soaked into his carpet. He knew that he should care, but he just couldn't turn that emotion on right now, he was way too far gone.
Slowly, he brought his hands to his face. For one second, no more than a heartbeat in time, he was back in Ishbal, and he saw the blood of all the innocent people that he had killed dripping from his hands. It stained his skin some pallid shade of crimson, running into the tiny grooves and whorls of his fingertips, guided like tiny rivers.
"I- I can't.." he almost whispered. His voice was tiny and hoarse. His eyes- watery and blurry- wandered around the room. It was sparsely furnished. There was one tall bookshelf that was packed with various alchemic texts. A small wooden table with a couple of chairs served as his dining room. The only other furniture in the small room was a beaten down sofa and chair set, both the same dull, lifeless shade of dark green.
He chuckled as his gaze lingered on the chair. "Old and beaten down, like me." He looked back to the table, where his revolver had been. It wasn't there. He knew Maes must have hidden it, or outright taken it from him again. Probably a good thing, he figured. It was getting harder and harder to resist the temptation of cold steel on his warm cheek.
The alchemist brought his hands to his face again, turning them over and back a couple of times. "What kind of pain and suffering have I wrought with these two hands?" he asked. There was a pause, as if he was waiting to get an answer.
No answer ever came.
Maes found him a few hours later on the floor of his apartment, curled up in a fetal position, the spilled bottle of scotch by his hand. He was breathing, though it was shallow and labored, he saw with relief.
He shook his head and sighed and closed the door behind him. It worried him more than a little that Roy didn't even bother to lock his door much any more. He had no doubt that a calm, stable Roy Mustang would have no problem with any sort of intruder, but this was not a calm, stable man that lay on the floor in front of him.
"Oh Roy." He asked. "What have you done?"
He walked over to his friend, kneeling down and shaking him softly. "Roy?" There was no response but his soft, wheezy breaths. He shook the alchemist a little harder. "Roy, damnit. Wake up!" He nudged the man, harder than he though necessary with the toe of his boot.
"Nnnnrf." was the only response he got.
"Fine." Maes stood back up and walked over to the small sink and filled a glass with some tap water. He walked back over and started to pour it softly over Roy' face.
"Rrr.. huh.. what? What the- " Roy shook his head, spluttering awake. Even in his drunken state and being woken up suddenly, his fingers instinctively went to the ready position, poised to snap.
"Roy, it's me. What the hell are you doing? I thought you were getting better. You told me that the nightmare and flashbacks were gone. You've been lying to me the whole time, haven't you?!" Maes almost growled the last sentence, grabbing Roy's shirt and pulling the groggy alchemist towards him. "Tell me the truth."
Roy sighed, not bothering to try to break the man's iron grip. "They.. have been getting worse." He admitted. "For a while, it was okay. But then, it all came back in a flash. "He brought his hands to his face. "These hands, Maes. They are killer's hands."
Maes let him go, and he crumpled back to the floor. Roy took the hand that Maes extended his hand downwards, and he helped the alchemist to his feet. He held Roy's hand for just a second, pulling the man's palms towards him.
"These hands," he said, "are destined for greatness. Remember your promise to me a few months ago? 'I'm going to be Fuhrer', you said. You want to end senseless killing, and you are sure that this is the way to do it. You will be Fuhrer, and I will help you get there, just like I promised. Until then, we just have to get through this. But you know I will always be here, to give you a kick in the ass when you need it, like right now."
"Or a face full of water." Roy smirked.
Maes laughed and put his hand on on his best friend's shoulder. "Whatever it takes, Roy. Whatever it takes."