Fic: All Your Things Are Gone
Title: All Your Things Are Gone
Word Count: 504
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Havoc, Roy, slight undertones of Roy/Riza because I can't help myself
Summary: Havoc meets up with Roy spontaneously, or carefully planned (maybe both).
A/N: Spoilers for later chapters of the manga, especially concerning Havoc's character. Also, my fic listing is found here if you're interested in reading more!
It's two days after Havoc is discharged from the hospital, three days before he returns home when he meets up with Roy Mustang spontaneously, or carefully planned, maybe both.
They walk to the cemetery (or Roy does; Havoc is perpetually wheelchair bound now), because the night air is crisp and neither of them thought to bring a car, anyway (that was always Hawkeye's job, to be practical). Stars dot the sky above them and he tries to outline their patterns, remembering nights spent on his father's porch mapping out the universe. He was never very good at it, but ingrained in his memory is the slope of Orion and the position of the North Star; it sits wedged up against the memory of his father's face, the strong, jagged angles that slowly fade with each new day. His father constantly smelled of coffee and since the day he died Havoc hasn't been able to stomach it much, nor has he had much of a taste for the stars, but tonight he can't help it. He desperately seeks them out.
The headstone is how he remembers it months ago at the funeral (months ago Riza Hawkeye stood here, months ago they were all still intact, still under Mustang's command, months ago); it's cold and impersonal - nothing like the life it represents. Havoc watches as Roy leans down and runs his hands over it, Maes Hughes carved in stone, beloved husband, father, and friend.
Havoc lights another cigarette.
"You see that cluster of stars up there?" he points as Roy looks up, first towards him and then towards the sky. Havoc realizes that the motion he makes is vague and unhelpful, reaching his fingertips into the vast bowl of stars. Directionless.
Still.
"That's Perseus. The hero," he explains. "And right down here," he drags his finger diagonally past Aries and Pisces, digging through memory, "is Cetus. The dragon. Do you know the story?"
Roy shakes his head slowly and eyes Havoc in the most peculiar manner. He looks uncomfortable crouched there, dew collecting on the soles of his boots that shimmer in their perfection, newly shined.
"Perseus slayed Cetus after he saw her trying to eat Andromeda, a princess," he explains simply, pointing to where her constellation lay.
"And what happened?" Roy asks.
Havoc flicks the ash away from his cigarette; the embers fall and die against the wet grass, spark absorbed by the freshly disturbed dirt. "He fell in love with her."
"Have you heard from Hawkeye?"
"No."
The walk back from the cemetery is silent, weary. Roy looks older than all his years account for, looks as old as Havoc feels sometimes sitting up at night lifting weights, fiddling with his uniform, living in memory. Above them the stars flicker as their positions slowly shift in the Earth's rotation, forever in motion, never standing still.
Havoc flicks his lighter and sends sparks into the cold night air. Roy walks next to him, staring into the shadows as if his guilt was there, breathing down their throats.
Word Count: 504
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Havoc, Roy, slight undertones of Roy/Riza because I can't help myself
Summary: Havoc meets up with Roy spontaneously, or carefully planned (maybe both).
A/N: Spoilers for later chapters of the manga, especially concerning Havoc's character. Also, my fic listing is found here if you're interested in reading more!
It's two days after Havoc is discharged from the hospital, three days before he returns home when he meets up with Roy Mustang spontaneously, or carefully planned, maybe both.
They walk to the cemetery (or Roy does; Havoc is perpetually wheelchair bound now), because the night air is crisp and neither of them thought to bring a car, anyway (that was always Hawkeye's job, to be practical). Stars dot the sky above them and he tries to outline their patterns, remembering nights spent on his father's porch mapping out the universe. He was never very good at it, but ingrained in his memory is the slope of Orion and the position of the North Star; it sits wedged up against the memory of his father's face, the strong, jagged angles that slowly fade with each new day. His father constantly smelled of coffee and since the day he died Havoc hasn't been able to stomach it much, nor has he had much of a taste for the stars, but tonight he can't help it. He desperately seeks them out.
The headstone is how he remembers it months ago at the funeral (months ago Riza Hawkeye stood here, months ago they were all still intact, still under Mustang's command, months ago); it's cold and impersonal - nothing like the life it represents. Havoc watches as Roy leans down and runs his hands over it, Maes Hughes carved in stone, beloved husband, father, and friend.
Havoc lights another cigarette.
"You see that cluster of stars up there?" he points as Roy looks up, first towards him and then towards the sky. Havoc realizes that the motion he makes is vague and unhelpful, reaching his fingertips into the vast bowl of stars. Directionless.
Still.
"That's Perseus. The hero," he explains. "And right down here," he drags his finger diagonally past Aries and Pisces, digging through memory, "is Cetus. The dragon. Do you know the story?"
Roy shakes his head slowly and eyes Havoc in the most peculiar manner. He looks uncomfortable crouched there, dew collecting on the soles of his boots that shimmer in their perfection, newly shined.
"Perseus slayed Cetus after he saw her trying to eat Andromeda, a princess," he explains simply, pointing to where her constellation lay.
"And what happened?" Roy asks.
Havoc flicks the ash away from his cigarette; the embers fall and die against the wet grass, spark absorbed by the freshly disturbed dirt. "He fell in love with her."
"Have you heard from Hawkeye?"
"No."
The walk back from the cemetery is silent, weary. Roy looks older than all his years account for, looks as old as Havoc feels sometimes sitting up at night lifting weights, fiddling with his uniform, living in memory. Above them the stars flicker as their positions slowly shift in the Earth's rotation, forever in motion, never standing still.
Havoc flicks his lighter and sends sparks into the cold night air. Roy walks next to him, staring into the shadows as if his guilt was there, breathing down their throats.