Author: Kazaera PM
I wish I could say I knew. Roy, Hughes and episode 25. Spoiler warning.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Angst/Drama - Roy M. & Maes H. - Words: 664 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 1 - Published: 03-13-05 - id: 2304463
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and all related characters and concepts do not belong to me. I am not making any profit from this.
A/N: Because every Roy fangirl has to have at least one post-ep 25 fic out there. It's like an unwritten law or something, I swear.
Obviously, this carries a huge freaking SPOILER warning! for ep 25.
Oh, and for the curious, the title mean something like "Death-knowledge" or "Knowledge of death" in German. Yes, knowing foreign languages is very helpful when you can't think of a title.
And why should I? You didn't tell me, after all. I knew you were hiding something, but how was I supposed to realise that it was that big, that dangerous, that you had gotten too close and-
Damnit, Maes, why? Why didn't you tell me? Why did you try and do it alone? What did you find that made you decide not to trust me? Just a word, a hint and I'd have been at your side. But no, you chattered on about Alicia and Gracia and me getting a wife.
And I hung up on you. The last time I ever spoke with you, and first I accused you of keeping information from me (which, to be fair, you were), and then hung up. Somehow, I feel I should have known. Should have said something.
But then again, our friendship was never built on words. Perhaps it is only fitting that it does not end with them either.
I wish I could say I knew. But I didn't. I didn't know on the phone. I didn't know on the train. I didn't know when I marched into the building and demanded to see you. I didn't even know when I saw that new subordinate of yours - and where did you find that one, I wonder? - pale and stammer.
"Sir, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, he's, he's-"
"He's what, Private?"
Dead. And the world dropped out from under me.
Only then did I know.
I wish I could say I knew. But then again, it's somehow typical of our friendship that I didn't. That your last words to me were "Oh, and get a wife!" and mine to you were "Not that big a...!". No heartfelt declarations, no farewells. We never bothered with goodbyes because we didn't see the need, because we never expected they'd be permanent. I always thought you'd be there if I needed you, never doubted in your steadfastness. I trusted in you to be there just as you trusted in me.
It would have been a betrayal of our friendship to have known. To have known would mean I doubted in you, doubted your strength, didn't trust you to pull through. The fact that you didn't has no bearing on that. After all, our friendship wasn't built on words, on facts - it was built on trust.
Still. I wish I could say that I knew.
But I can't, because I didn't. And now all I can say is:
I will miss you.