Special Delivery- Part 3 of 3: "Family" (Roy Mustang, Gracia Hughes)
Title: Family
Author: SeaweedOtter
Genre: Just sweet fluff.
Rating: G
Characters: Roy Mustang, Gracia Hughes, and one more person :)
Spoilers: AU, Set about 6 years after Episode 25 in the anime.
Read all three parts of the story HERE!
He always was a bright boy. He took after his father that way. And she had no doubt that one day he would follow his father's footsteps into the military. And nothing scared her more. The fact that throughout all this, Roy Mustang had managed to become Fuhrer didnt help, as little Maes was totally infatuated with what "Uncle Roy" did.
They had moved in together, a "marriage of convience" as it was. They really had no feelings towards each other, at least
none that either of them would admit to, but they both agreed that made it alot easier to raise her son. Besides, Gracia liked living in the splendor that was the Presidential Manor, and there was more than enough room to spare. Everyone knew
what the story was between the two, and there were no rumors of secret love or some alterior motive on her part. For once in thier lives, the "politics" were taken out of politics, and that was just how they wanted it.
It was inevitable one day that Maes would ask about his father and the "uncle" that had absolutely no family resemblance, besides thier shared hair color. He saw the pictures of his mom, dad and older sister as a baby all around the house. Gracia
had always been a picture taker, and she loved to show them as much, if not more, than she liked to take them. Maes had asked about his dad, and this man that he called "Uncle" before, but he had always been told that he would find out more when he was older.
Elysia was over at a friend's house for the night, and Maes had been bugging his mom for the majority of the day about wanting to know more about his daddy. She told him when Roy got home they would sit down over dinner and have a discussion. Gracia knew that he was very young, and she was terribly afraid that he wouldn't be able to handle what they were going to tell him, but she also knew that he was extremely smart, and had his father's knack for investigation. He had already, through what seemed at the time innocuous questioning, to get some information about his father and his military friends, including one rather short blond alchemist. She had been amazed when she figured it out, after she had been rambling on for a while, that he had seemed to take the conversation right where he wanted it and had gotten the information he wanted out of her. It was uncanny, and rather scary, how good he was, and all this right before his sixth birthday. He may be as much, or even more of a prodigy than Al and Ed were, she often thought.
Dinner couldn't have come fast enough for little Maes. As usual, he ran up and hugged Roy as he walked in the door, hung up his coat and hat, and walked into the house.
"Hey there, little man!" Roy smiled warmly and kneeled down as Maes gave him a big hug. "I can't believe how big you are! Already 4 feet tall! You are gonna be taller than your old man, I think!" That made little Maes beam, and blush. "Uncle Roy, What was my daddy like?" Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the smile faded from Roy's lips, and his dark eyes took on an almost watery sadness.
"I think we are going to talk about that in just a bit, little man." The smile returned, but it wasn't as bright as it had been before. Roy ruffled his hair a little. "Go tell your mom I am home. I am sure the cooks have dinner almost ready."
"Mom! Hey mom! Uncle Roy is home! Let's eat!" the boy yelled. His voice trailed off as he ran down one of the long hallways in search of his mother. Roy let out a little sigh, and wiped a tiny hint of moisture from his eye. "Gracia, what are we going to tell him?" he softly mumbled to a dark, empty room.
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Dinner had been a hurried affair. Everyone seemed to want to forgo the actual act of eating to get to the inevitable conversation that was going to happen afterwards. A short time after dinner- Roy, as usual, amazed Maes with his alchemy by lighting the logs in the fireplace. As Fuhrer, he didn't have much use for his flame alchemy, so it was a bit rusty, and he was glad for the few times that he was able to practice. Even if it was just to amuse a five year old boy that looked so much like his best friend that it sometimes hurt.
Roy settled in a big green highbacked chair, and Gracia lounged comforatably on the sofa. Maes, with his usual boundless supply of energy (another trait passed down from his dad), was playing with a toy train on the floor. It seemed, at least for a few minutes, that he had forgotten what they were going to do after dinner, but that didn't last long. He looked up from his train and gave his mother a big smile. "Please mommy. Tell me about my daddy."
A few minutes later, Gracia had some photo albums out. She flipped through some of the older photo albums rather quickly, talking only briefly about the elder Maes' involvment in the Ishbal Rebellion, and how that was where he and "Uncle Roy" had
become good friends. She explained to him that Roy was not related by blood, but by heart. Roy and his father had been the best of friends, and had come to see each other more as brothers than fellow officers. She explained to him how Roy had promised Maes that he would become Fuhrer one day, and that his father had promised to help him get there. She told him how Roy rose quickly thru the ranks, and his best friend followed, ever loyal.
There was an uncomforatable silence for a few moments. Roy had been silent the whole time, sipping on some whiskey on the rocks. In the years since he had become fuhrer, he had slowed his drinking considerably, but there were times when he just needed something to take the edge off, and this moment more than qualified. He held out his hand and bowed his head a little. "It is okay, Gracia." he said softly, sadly. "Let me continue." She nodded, confident that he knew what to say. In all this time he had been thinking about the best way to tell him about his father's death.
"There.. were some people in the government. Corrupt people who didn't have the public's best intrests at heart. They were bad, bad men... and women." He paused for a moment to let it sink in, and looked up at the young boy's eyes. He was focused intensely on Roy now. He felt those gold-green orbs melt into his skin like a snap from his own fingers. He was so intent, his attention so rapt. He was his father's son. And Roy had to look back down at his now mostly empty glass. It hurt too much
to look into his best friend's eyes.
"Your father, he was a very smart man, just like you. He found out some things about the government, and about some of the corrupt military officials. And... well..." He bowed his head futher, letting his long black bangs hide the pain and tears in
his eyes. But there was no mistaking the waver in his voice. "He found out too much, and a very bad man.. he.. he... " Roy sniffled, not able to hold back the tears that had been hiding for over 6 years. "He was shot."
Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, Fuhrer of all Amestris, didn't have the courage to look up at his best friend's son. He couldn't bear to see the pain in his eyes. He heard the sobbing from both of them. He heard the boy get up from the floor and run over to his mother. He heard the train clatter to the ground, forgotten for the moment. And he wondered. Did he just ruin this young boy's childhood? His whole life? Would he ever trust his "Uncle" again? There was so much that he hadn't told him. It was such an incomplete picture. Did he deserve to know more? He sobbed as much from helplessness as from the reopened long dormant wound of Maes Hughes' death.
"There, there. It is okay." He managed to lift his head, just a little, and saw Gracia softly stroking his head, his little head buried in her lap. Both of them were crying, holding each other for strength. And he had no one, as usual it seemed. He didn't have the heart to say anything else. He didnt know what he could say to make them feel better. As silently as he could, he got up from his chair, sat the mostly empty glass of whiskey on the side table, and walked upstairs to his room, where he could wallow in his own guilt, alone.
_________________________________________________________
The next few days were awkward, to say the least. He got little done at work, and everyone noticed the abrupt change that came over him, although no one dared to ask what had caused it. He hardly ate, and it started to show. Even at home he didn't get to relax. Gracia was civil to him, but hardly spoke more than she had to. And little Maes seemed more withdrawn as well. The train stayed in the same place it had fallen a few days before, like nobody wanted to touch it and remember what happened that night.
A few nights later, Hawkeye had agreed to babysit the kids for the evening while the two adults talked it over. They sat in the same chair and couch that they had been on almost a week before. Roy had a double of scotch this time, and it wasn't his first, or his last for the night.
"Do... do you hate me?" he asked, rather bluntly, after a long and very uncomforatable silence. He stared into his drink again. Gone was the cocky fire-eyed man of his youth, replaced with this shell of a man who couldn't even look a woman, or a child in the eye.
"Roy, now you know better than that." Gracia replied, in an almost nagging tone. "I would never hate you. We had discussed this many times, and we both thought.. that he was ready."
"But was he Gracia? Was he?" His voice raised, not in anger, but in fear. "Did we just doom that poor child to a life of melancholy or anger? He won't even talk to me any more, and... I can't even look him in the eye.. or you." He sighed and took a long sip of his scotch. It burnt worse than usual going down. "I look at him, and all I can see is Maes. The man.. I had respected and loved like a brother. And.. I.. dont... want him.. to die!" He put his head in his lap and cried, cried harder than he had perhaps in his life.
Gracia tried to speak but couldn't think of anything to say. She softly shook her head and walked over, kneeling by Roy, and softly putting her hand on his. She knew what he had meant. He had not meant that the younger Maes would die physically like his father had, but he meant that he would die on the inside, lose all hope and just wither inside, like Roy had all those years ago. Sure, he had put on a good front, he had even been charasmatic enough to reach the level of Fuhrer, but inside, he had died with that gunshot over 6 years before.
"It is okay Roy. I can assure you that he isn't dead. my husband lives on in my wonderful son. I can't help but cry when I look at him sometimes. Occasionally I watch while he is sleeping, and he takes after Maes, even with the way he curls up in a little ball on his side, and the little snores he makes when he is deep in slumber. It takes all my willpower to not just run in there and hold him tight and never let him go. But I stay strong, and so will he. We have talked about it a couple of times. He doesn't hate you for telling him. He just isn't sure what to say to you. He isn't angry at us for telling him. He knows that he asked, and he was smart enough to know the answer wasn't going to be a good one."
"So... where do we go now?" Roy asked, shakily. His voice was barely over a whisper. "You say he is going to be alright, but I am not so sure. Where is the happy, hyper little boy I knew just a week ago? Will I ever see that again?"
"Yes, I have already seen signs of him returning to normal. For one, he is playing with his train again." She smiled and pointed to the place where the train had been sitting for close to a week. "He has been eating better and smiling more. I have seen that throughout the day as I interact with him. There is still some sadness, but I see a steely resolve as well. It actually worries me a little. I have had a suspicion that he is going to follow in his father's footsteps. I have already told him alot about what his dad did, and I saw the gleam in his eyes when I explained it to him. I don't want him to go into the military. I.. have seen what it does to people." She gave Roy's hand a little squeeze. "But if he does go, I will support him with every fibre of my being."
"As will I, Gracia. As will I." The strength had returned to his voice. He spoke with conviction, with promise, with more in his heart that she had seen or heard from him in years. He looked up at her, staring deeply into her face. His eyes were still red and moist, but the fire was back in those onyx orbs, the fire of the young Colonel she had known so many years, so many lifetimes it seemed, before. "With my last breath I swear that I will make sure he is protected, no matter what the cost." He softly put his hand on hers, and there they stayed, in a much easier silence, enjoying the bonds of family.
Author: SeaweedOtter
Genre: Just sweet fluff.
Rating: G
Characters: Roy Mustang, Gracia Hughes, and one more person :)
Spoilers: AU, Set about 6 years after Episode 25 in the anime.
Read all three parts of the story HERE!
He always was a bright boy. He took after his father that way. And she had no doubt that one day he would follow his father's footsteps into the military. And nothing scared her more. The fact that throughout all this, Roy Mustang had managed to become Fuhrer didnt help, as little Maes was totally infatuated with what "Uncle Roy" did.
They had moved in together, a "marriage of convience" as it was. They really had no feelings towards each other, at least
none that either of them would admit to, but they both agreed that made it alot easier to raise her son. Besides, Gracia liked living in the splendor that was the Presidential Manor, and there was more than enough room to spare. Everyone knew
what the story was between the two, and there were no rumors of secret love or some alterior motive on her part. For once in thier lives, the "politics" were taken out of politics, and that was just how they wanted it.
It was inevitable one day that Maes would ask about his father and the "uncle" that had absolutely no family resemblance, besides thier shared hair color. He saw the pictures of his mom, dad and older sister as a baby all around the house. Gracia
had always been a picture taker, and she loved to show them as much, if not more, than she liked to take them. Maes had asked about his dad, and this man that he called "Uncle" before, but he had always been told that he would find out more when he was older.
Elysia was over at a friend's house for the night, and Maes had been bugging his mom for the majority of the day about wanting to know more about his daddy. She told him when Roy got home they would sit down over dinner and have a discussion. Gracia knew that he was very young, and she was terribly afraid that he wouldn't be able to handle what they were going to tell him, but she also knew that he was extremely smart, and had his father's knack for investigation. He had already, through what seemed at the time innocuous questioning, to get some information about his father and his military friends, including one rather short blond alchemist. She had been amazed when she figured it out, after she had been rambling on for a while, that he had seemed to take the conversation right where he wanted it and had gotten the information he wanted out of her. It was uncanny, and rather scary, how good he was, and all this right before his sixth birthday. He may be as much, or even more of a prodigy than Al and Ed were, she often thought.
Dinner couldn't have come fast enough for little Maes. As usual, he ran up and hugged Roy as he walked in the door, hung up his coat and hat, and walked into the house.
"Hey there, little man!" Roy smiled warmly and kneeled down as Maes gave him a big hug. "I can't believe how big you are! Already 4 feet tall! You are gonna be taller than your old man, I think!" That made little Maes beam, and blush. "Uncle Roy, What was my daddy like?" Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the smile faded from Roy's lips, and his dark eyes took on an almost watery sadness.
"I think we are going to talk about that in just a bit, little man." The smile returned, but it wasn't as bright as it had been before. Roy ruffled his hair a little. "Go tell your mom I am home. I am sure the cooks have dinner almost ready."
"Mom! Hey mom! Uncle Roy is home! Let's eat!" the boy yelled. His voice trailed off as he ran down one of the long hallways in search of his mother. Roy let out a little sigh, and wiped a tiny hint of moisture from his eye. "Gracia, what are we going to tell him?" he softly mumbled to a dark, empty room.
_________________________
Dinner had been a hurried affair. Everyone seemed to want to forgo the actual act of eating to get to the inevitable conversation that was going to happen afterwards. A short time after dinner- Roy, as usual, amazed Maes with his alchemy by lighting the logs in the fireplace. As Fuhrer, he didn't have much use for his flame alchemy, so it was a bit rusty, and he was glad for the few times that he was able to practice. Even if it was just to amuse a five year old boy that looked so much like his best friend that it sometimes hurt.
Roy settled in a big green highbacked chair, and Gracia lounged comforatably on the sofa. Maes, with his usual boundless supply of energy (another trait passed down from his dad), was playing with a toy train on the floor. It seemed, at least for a few minutes, that he had forgotten what they were going to do after dinner, but that didn't last long. He looked up from his train and gave his mother a big smile. "Please mommy. Tell me about my daddy."
A few minutes later, Gracia had some photo albums out. She flipped through some of the older photo albums rather quickly, talking only briefly about the elder Maes' involvment in the Ishbal Rebellion, and how that was where he and "Uncle Roy" had
become good friends. She explained to him that Roy was not related by blood, but by heart. Roy and his father had been the best of friends, and had come to see each other more as brothers than fellow officers. She explained to him how Roy had promised Maes that he would become Fuhrer one day, and that his father had promised to help him get there. She told him how Roy rose quickly thru the ranks, and his best friend followed, ever loyal.
There was an uncomforatable silence for a few moments. Roy had been silent the whole time, sipping on some whiskey on the rocks. In the years since he had become fuhrer, he had slowed his drinking considerably, but there were times when he just needed something to take the edge off, and this moment more than qualified. He held out his hand and bowed his head a little. "It is okay, Gracia." he said softly, sadly. "Let me continue." She nodded, confident that he knew what to say. In all this time he had been thinking about the best way to tell him about his father's death.
"There.. were some people in the government. Corrupt people who didn't have the public's best intrests at heart. They were bad, bad men... and women." He paused for a moment to let it sink in, and looked up at the young boy's eyes. He was focused intensely on Roy now. He felt those gold-green orbs melt into his skin like a snap from his own fingers. He was so intent, his attention so rapt. He was his father's son. And Roy had to look back down at his now mostly empty glass. It hurt too much
to look into his best friend's eyes.
"Your father, he was a very smart man, just like you. He found out some things about the government, and about some of the corrupt military officials. And... well..." He bowed his head futher, letting his long black bangs hide the pain and tears in
his eyes. But there was no mistaking the waver in his voice. "He found out too much, and a very bad man.. he.. he... " Roy sniffled, not able to hold back the tears that had been hiding for over 6 years. "He was shot."
Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, Fuhrer of all Amestris, didn't have the courage to look up at his best friend's son. He couldn't bear to see the pain in his eyes. He heard the sobbing from both of them. He heard the boy get up from the floor and run over to his mother. He heard the train clatter to the ground, forgotten for the moment. And he wondered. Did he just ruin this young boy's childhood? His whole life? Would he ever trust his "Uncle" again? There was so much that he hadn't told him. It was such an incomplete picture. Did he deserve to know more? He sobbed as much from helplessness as from the reopened long dormant wound of Maes Hughes' death.
"There, there. It is okay." He managed to lift his head, just a little, and saw Gracia softly stroking his head, his little head buried in her lap. Both of them were crying, holding each other for strength. And he had no one, as usual it seemed. He didn't have the heart to say anything else. He didnt know what he could say to make them feel better. As silently as he could, he got up from his chair, sat the mostly empty glass of whiskey on the side table, and walked upstairs to his room, where he could wallow in his own guilt, alone.
_________________________________________________________
The next few days were awkward, to say the least. He got little done at work, and everyone noticed the abrupt change that came over him, although no one dared to ask what had caused it. He hardly ate, and it started to show. Even at home he didn't get to relax. Gracia was civil to him, but hardly spoke more than she had to. And little Maes seemed more withdrawn as well. The train stayed in the same place it had fallen a few days before, like nobody wanted to touch it and remember what happened that night.
A few nights later, Hawkeye had agreed to babysit the kids for the evening while the two adults talked it over. They sat in the same chair and couch that they had been on almost a week before. Roy had a double of scotch this time, and it wasn't his first, or his last for the night.
"Do... do you hate me?" he asked, rather bluntly, after a long and very uncomforatable silence. He stared into his drink again. Gone was the cocky fire-eyed man of his youth, replaced with this shell of a man who couldn't even look a woman, or a child in the eye.
"Roy, now you know better than that." Gracia replied, in an almost nagging tone. "I would never hate you. We had discussed this many times, and we both thought.. that he was ready."
"But was he Gracia? Was he?" His voice raised, not in anger, but in fear. "Did we just doom that poor child to a life of melancholy or anger? He won't even talk to me any more, and... I can't even look him in the eye.. or you." He sighed and took a long sip of his scotch. It burnt worse than usual going down. "I look at him, and all I can see is Maes. The man.. I had respected and loved like a brother. And.. I.. dont... want him.. to die!" He put his head in his lap and cried, cried harder than he had perhaps in his life.
Gracia tried to speak but couldn't think of anything to say. She softly shook her head and walked over, kneeling by Roy, and softly putting her hand on his. She knew what he had meant. He had not meant that the younger Maes would die physically like his father had, but he meant that he would die on the inside, lose all hope and just wither inside, like Roy had all those years ago. Sure, he had put on a good front, he had even been charasmatic enough to reach the level of Fuhrer, but inside, he had died with that gunshot over 6 years before.
"It is okay Roy. I can assure you that he isn't dead. my husband lives on in my wonderful son. I can't help but cry when I look at him sometimes. Occasionally I watch while he is sleeping, and he takes after Maes, even with the way he curls up in a little ball on his side, and the little snores he makes when he is deep in slumber. It takes all my willpower to not just run in there and hold him tight and never let him go. But I stay strong, and so will he. We have talked about it a couple of times. He doesn't hate you for telling him. He just isn't sure what to say to you. He isn't angry at us for telling him. He knows that he asked, and he was smart enough to know the answer wasn't going to be a good one."
"So... where do we go now?" Roy asked, shakily. His voice was barely over a whisper. "You say he is going to be alright, but I am not so sure. Where is the happy, hyper little boy I knew just a week ago? Will I ever see that again?"
"Yes, I have already seen signs of him returning to normal. For one, he is playing with his train again." She smiled and pointed to the place where the train had been sitting for close to a week. "He has been eating better and smiling more. I have seen that throughout the day as I interact with him. There is still some sadness, but I see a steely resolve as well. It actually worries me a little. I have had a suspicion that he is going to follow in his father's footsteps. I have already told him alot about what his dad did, and I saw the gleam in his eyes when I explained it to him. I don't want him to go into the military. I.. have seen what it does to people." She gave Roy's hand a little squeeze. "But if he does go, I will support him with every fibre of my being."
"As will I, Gracia. As will I." The strength had returned to his voice. He spoke with conviction, with promise, with more in his heart that she had seen or heard from him in years. He looked up at her, staring deeply into her face. His eyes were still red and moist, but the fire was back in those onyx orbs, the fire of the young Colonel she had known so many years, so many lifetimes it seemed, before. "With my last breath I swear that I will make sure he is protected, no matter what the cost." He softly put his hand on hers, and there they stayed, in a much easier silence, enjoying the bonds of family.