Burned: Sequel

4: impossible

(Sorry about the lack of updates, my mum was just rushed to the hospital and my family came first....again, sorry...)

The air outside was cool and damp, and the early morning sun was just peeking from behind the orange tinted clouds, a few birds chirped as the crisp summer morning slowly came to life.

Hughes walked down the soaked concrete, taking in a deep breath as he stared at the upcoming house. Hughes held a bag holding food for Roy as usual, and some more dish soap, but other then that he was empty handed. He had a little bit of time today until he had to report in for another tedious day of work. As he reached his destination he reached for the knob, realizing there was more sound then usual coming from inside the house, frowning he slowly turned the knob, finding it unlocked. A lump grew in his throat and he pushed it open with ease, slowly peering inside.

Every light was on, all except the one in Roy's bedroom anyways, no, that one was still off. Water was running in the kitchen sink, the smell of food wafted through the corridors, and someone humming quietly could all be distinctly heard. He could see a mound of sheets representing a sleeping body under the covers of Roy's room, confirming Roy had fallen asleep as he sometimes did when he got tired of staring at a wall.

As Hughes carefully, and quietly crept further into the house he felt his heart clench and his stomach flop. Roy stood in the kitchen, washing dishes, wearing new clothes and a shaved face. His overall appearance was like it would be any other day. Or at least, before Ed died...

Mustang, oblivious to Hughes' presence continued to finish up the remaining dishes. His hands trembled slightly as he dried the last plate, setting it on the counter with the others.

"...Roy..." Hughes finally said, his mind swimming with possibility. Roy snapped around to face his friend, hands shaking. Roy smiled.

"Hey Hughes." He said cooly, almost hinting at a sad sort of tone.

His expression did hint that he was sad, but also that he remembered nothing of the last seven months. As if it never happened. Hughes' mind explored for some kind of explanation, it searched deeply, but nothing came to mind. From the looks of it, Roy was in his kitchen doing his dishes, cooking breakfast, and had some mystery woman sleeping in his bed. And all while being sober....? Even for Roy-daily basis or not-this seemed quite the feat, especially considering he'd been languid for months. The idea that he's recovered, seemed near impossible.

Roy stood there for a while, staring at Hughes, a somewhat worried expression etched into his features. "Hughes, are you alright? You look a bit," Roy paused, searching for the right word. "-Shaken up?" He finished, his lips pressed tightly together.

Maes pushed up his glasses to the bridge of his nose, snapping back to reality. he sighed, trying to think of something to say, anything. "Roy...what the hell..." That's what he said, granted it wasn't the best thing to say to someone you hadn't been able to hold a conversation with in almost a year, but it was all he could muster.

Roy cocked his head to the side in a mixture of confusion and hurt. "Hughes, I don't kn-" he didn't finish before there was a creak of a floor board, revealing a small figure standing in the doorway, dressed in a oversized dress shirt-probably Roy's-buttoned up messily, long blonde hair pulled back sloppily into a ponytail that reached his elbow, his mismatched arm and leg glinting in the morning light that shown through the window. His face still showing signs of sleep. "Edward." Roy mused, staring at the sleepy teen. Ed just grunted, acknowledging Roy's presence as he lazily cleared sleep from his eyes.

Hughes heart rammed against his chest, his breath hitched, and his body trembled at the sight. Edwars elric, seven months dead, was standing in Roy's doorway, very much alive. He looked at Roy, both horrified and outraged, all sense was gone, lost somewhere in all his confusion and frustration, and now mortification. "...no...no, what'd you do...." He muttered, his voice just above a whisper. "...what did you...." He trailed off, walking up to Roy slowly, his steps a unsteady.

How could he?!

Ed tilted his head to the side, trying to grasp the issue at hand. "Uh, what..." He mumbled, watching a strong tension grow between the two.

Hughes slammed Roy against the counter behind him, causing Roy's head to hit the cabinet. "Hughes!" Roy gasped, his eyes wide. Hughes took note of Roy's hands, still shaking. Whatever he'd done, it was bad, very bad.

"You idiot! What have you done?!" He raged, his face the splitting image of disgust. "You cope Roy, you move on, no matter what happens, you talk to people you don't just lock them out! You just look forwards, I thought you of all people understood this Roy!" He yelled, his face just inches away from a very startled Roy.

"H-hey, guys..." Ed attempted, his mind more then blown at Hughes' sudden outburst at his best friend, then the fact he couldn't quite remember what he was doing here...he had no idea what happened.

Roy glanced at Ed, more then a little embarrassed that he was watching him get pulverized physically and verbally by his best friend. "F-Fullmetal, can you just..." Ed didn't let Roy finish, he just nodded and and went back into the bedroom, closing the door and leaving to two friends to finish whatever was going on. Normally Ed would have argued but this seemed to be a bit too personal for Ed's interception.

"Hughes..." Roy murmured out, his heart beating fast as Hughes held him tightly by the collar of his shirt. Maes frowned, ashamed of Roy even though he wasn't sure how he'd done it...

"Why couldn't you just let it be...." Hughes said, releasing the flame alchemist from his grip. "No one liked it, but...you should have just let it be..." He said pitifully as Roy took a step back from Hughes, adjusting his crooked collar.

"But, it's better now. Can't you see that?" Roy questioned, his eyes still full of insanity. "I'm fine, and he's fine, and everything's okay now."

Hughes paused a minuet before asking what he'd been dreading getting an answer too. "How'd you do it..."