dragonimp

Author:

dragonimp
Rating: PGish
Genre: Angst-ish
Pairing: Roy/Ed
Warnings: None
Notes: Prompt list taken from

64damn_prompts.

1. 2 a.m.

Sometime after the war, he went from enjoying the wee hours of the morning to dreading them. The hour of the wolf, he'd heard it called. More like the hour of demons. Even now, years later, he often woke in a cold sweat, more afraid than unable to go back to sleep. instead he would stare at the clock, willing it forward to a time he could reasonably get up and start the day.

But somehow, a sleepy grumble beside him in the bed, and a metal arm cold and heavy against his waist, could make the dark hours bearable.

11. animal/12. children

"She—he'd combined her with something cold blooded, and didn't reconcile her system and it—she just started convulsing, we couldn't do anything—" He was holding himself tight and rigid, as if he could keep things in check with the force of his arms. "All we could do was take away her pain. Make sure she didn't die in pain. . . ."

Roy finally set down the book he'd been reading when Ed had come home, wound tight with grief and impotent rage. All that emotion was poised to spill one way or another.

"Seems it's about to rain."

"Y-yeah." Overly bright gold eyes squeezed shut, but too late. "Fucking weather."

All he could do is hold him. Hold him and ignore the bruising grip of fingers digging into his back. His part in this had been over when the alchemist and his laboratory had been found.

"I'm sorry," he said at last.

"What for?"

"For putting you through this."

"No one else knows shit about chimera." Ed sniffed, rubbing his nose against Roy's shirt. "The other one's still okay. We've almost got the array worked out. We'll do this. We'll save him." His voice was steady now. Resolute. "We promised to."

47. every you, every me

"Were there analogs of everyone, over there?"

Ed shrugged, turning a page. "Probably."

"How close were they?"

He glanced up with a frown. "Close enough. Some closer than others. Why?"

Roy was silent, feigning interest in his newspaper. Then he said, casually, "Did you meet another of me over there?"

Ed considered his lover for a long moment, and then answering with a quiet, "No, I didn't." He sighed, turning back to his book. "I met a man with your face, and something like your name . . . but he hadn't had your life." With quiet conviction, he stated, "He wasn't you."