Watching- A RoyEd ficcle(Prologue)
Watching(Prolouge)
There was nothing that could be done...
Roy's subconcious battled sleep as he tossed and turned on the small bed in his cabin.
If Hughes had trusted you enough, if you weren't so darn set on an unrealistic goal, you could have saved him, saved the Elrics. Fuhrer...Yeah, right.
Roy was away from the military. Away from everything that reminded him of Hughes, of Al and Fullmetal. Probably his closest friends, and he had let them slip away, let them die. Well, maybe Ed was still alive, Al too. He hoped for the boys he had befriended and practically fathered. He needed them to be alive, so his selfishness no longer interfered in his mind, battling his guilt.
It was Hughes' fault. He could have told you, but he witheld it.
He witheld it to protect you, to make you do your job. He knew if you knew, then you'd try to save the Elrics.
Who would still be alive, still be here if he had done so... "ENOUGH!" His scream peirced the silence of the cabin as he fell out of the bed and curled into a hopeless mess on the floor. The silence he had isolated himself to was driving him insane, making him battle his guilt.
Wiping away the cruel selfish tears he had spilled, he lay his hand on the bedside table to help himself up, brushing against the pistol that lay there.
Maybe...
Maybe it didn't have to be this way.
A calm sort of numbness overcame him as he put the pistol to his head, switching off the safety. Maybe in another world, whatever hell he was condemned to, he could finally find the answers, know that his friends were safe at last.
He pulled the trigger, and all went black and dizzyingly bright all at once...
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Roy's eyes opened to a bright light. Eyes? No, that couldn't be right. He only had one eye that functioned properly. He reached up to the eye, examining it with his left hand. It was real and seemed to have no trace of the bulletwound that had originally taken it.
He thought at first he might be at the Gate, the bright light surrounding him the same as how Ed had once described it to him, but no. There wasn't a gate in sight and he was lying on a bed of some sort. The walls whitewashed, he realized he must be in a hospital. Yes. The door was white with a silver handle and he was definitely lying in a plain all white room.
But, how did he get there? He looked about, seeing an empty chair and bare bedside table, as well as a door leading to the bathroom on his right. At his left, another bedside table and a chair-this time occupied by a young blond sleeping in what had to be an uncomfortable position against the wall.
"Ed?"
To be continued...