I don't own FMA

Chapter 102 Spoilers, set post-promised day

Theme: Dependency


Roy looked around the empty office and closed his eyes. First, he squeezed them shut tight, eyebrows knitting together. Then, as the second hand ticked with movement he relaxed, wondering what it would have been like had the loss of his eyesight not been temporary.

The door creaked, footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor.


Her voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" she asked, and he could hear her walking closer.

"Just thinking," he reassured her, but didn't open his eyes.

"Thinking?" she echoed, her voice lilting in question.

He nodded.

"About?" she ventured.

"Things." He moved his hand across the desk, taking in the grain of the stained and polished wood.

Silence, except for their breathing…and he's tempted to open his eyes to see the expression on her face—was she puzzled, frustrated, indifferent, concerned, or something else entirely—all he knew was that she was definitely staring. Her gaze made the hair on the back of his neck prickle—a sense he'd probably developed when trying to shirk off paperwork.

"Things you always say are better not to think about?" she guessed.

"I suppose you're going to tell me to take my own advice?" he murmured.

She nodded—he didn't need to see her to know—she was always reminding him to follow his own advice.

Silence flowed between them and he listened to her footsteps as she made her way to her desk. The chair creaked as she pulled it out and sat down. He wondered how much harder he would have had to concentrate to follow her movements through the office had it been full.

"To say it was frightening would be an understatement," he said, breaking the strange silence.

"Sir?" Her voice was worried.

"Thinking that for the rest of my life I'd be in the dark—I'd have to depend on someone to tell me if my socks matched or if I had a hole in my clothes." He paused and sucked in a breath, recalling the moment when he'd finally realized he hadn't been transported to some strange world of darkness. "And those were only the small things…" he trailed off, the stream of thoughts he'd had at hearing the homunclus voice the word blind flooding his brain.

"I think, Sir, that you would have adapted," she reassured him.

"Adapted," he echoed, turning the word over in his mind. "I wouldn't have settled for just adapting."

"No, Sir, I don't think you would have," she agreed.

He sighed as he thought about the possibilities—there was a very good chance he might have turned out to be quite the ass in not wanting to just adapt. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "I would have been such a burden," he thought aloud.

"One I wouldn't have minded shouldering," she said, her gaze steady and sure as her eyes latched onto his.

He stared back at her, a sad smile on his face. "Those shoulders don't need anymore burdens," he observed.

"Well, then maybe you should get back to your work, so I won't have to be burdened with finding something to occupy myself with while waiting for you to finish," she quipped, the corner of her mouth tugging her lips into a smirk.

"Touché," he said through a chuckle as picked up his pen.


A.N. - Roy was feeling like playing in the land of what if's today. Thanks for reading!

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