Day 3: Protect the People I Love

If asked outright if he was willing to sacrifice his life, Maes would've smiled and wordlessly poked at the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He would recite his military oaths and insist he served the people. But the fact was, he felt conflicted. Of course he wanted to be in love and spoil his wife and daughter with pet names and hugs and kisses. He never wanted to leave Alicia sobbing at his gravesite, too young to fully understand the scope of her loss. He never wanted to leave Gracia alone in a world not yet free of the insidious, seeping evil that dripped from hidden corners and lurked in razor sharp shadows – an evil that he'd misunderstood right up until the last of his blood pooled and turned black on the floor of a phone booth. Of course not.

But Maes also knew Roy. He knew that grim purse of lips and inexhaustible determination. Maes Hughes knew Roy Mustang. He was one of perhaps two people that knew what existed beyond the golden ropes and blue wool. Yes, Roy could be a needy mess of mangled emotions and an obnoxious desire to reach the peak because everything else was crumbling around him.

And in knowing the Colonel, he knew that Roy could go on without him. Riza Hawkeye would take an entire chest full of bullets, of that Maes was certain. His own death would stir the pot. Hawkeye's death would turn everything to ash. So, no, he didn't want to be the lamb, but he would be.