title: fortune's favor foolish
fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
characters/pairings: Hughes/Roy, Hughes/Gracia, Elysia, Armstrong, Hawkeye
rating: G
warnings: deathfic
summary: Hughes contemplates what should not be. (AU)
notes: for crxzxx, for this request on fic on demand. really, kinda my first foray into FMA fic, so... er, hope it's ok?

The burial was somber, and quiet. The sun was bright and high, and the air was crisp, clear, and clean. He was immobile.

Elysia kept tugging at his hand, but Armstrong gently pulled her aside, and took her off to play. He at least had enough cognitive function to watch them go, making sure that Elysia was all right.

Poor girl... she would never know life under Führer Mustang...

The Elric boys didn't even know yet, thank god. Odd that he would be thinking of them now. He should... call them. Wherever they were. He should find out where they were to call them.

Maybe tomorrow.

Hawkeye was the last one to leave the grave, to leave him alone with the grave. She was a mess. He'd never thought he'd see her break down like that. Roy... might have married her some day. They might have had children. Beautiful, bright, dangerous, clever children, who could charm the pants off of anyone.

Roy's children... who would now never be born...

Gracia was still with him, behind him. He couldn't look at her. He hadn't been able to, not since he'd heard... He would have to at some point. But, for now, all he could do was stare at the tombstone.

Colonel Roy Mustang. The Flame Alchemist. War Hero, Friend. Pioneer.

Hawkeye had arranged it. She'd arranged it all, in between bouts of breaking down. He'd done nothing. He was useless. Roy was even trying to call him, warn him about something, with his dying breath...

He was useless.

"Honey. We should go..." She reached out and touched his elbow. He tried not to flinch.

"I was supposed to help him. Support him from below... push him up to the seat of the Führer. What am I going to do now? What... what do I wear this uniform for now?" he asked, not expecting an answer.

Not expecting her to understand.

"I know, honey." She sighed, and stepped up to stand at his side. "You two were lovers, right?"

At first, he balked, just from the word. Lovers. They weren't that, were they? They were friends. Occasionally, they had sex. It was good sex.

They were good friends.

Best friends.

His chest hurt.

He looked at his wife. "You..."

"I knew?" She smiled at him, laughing a bit. She slipped her arm around his waist. "I knew from the start, honey. It was fine. I knew you loved him... and me. I accepted it. I didn't expect you to choose. There was no reason for you to. I wasn't threatened by him.

"I'm sorry, honey. I... I can't imagine what losing him..." He voice broke, and she turned to him, wrapping him up in her arms.

He loved... them both. No. Yes. Perhaps. Yes.

His eyes stung. He couldn't make out the letters on the stone anymore. Roy was in there... in the earth... cold... The Flame Alchemist shouldn't be cold. The Elric brothers didn't even know. Hawkeye would never be the same. Armstrong was playing with Elysia. Roy was never coming back.

Roy was gone forever.

When he fell to his knees, Gracia caught him, held him, let him break against her chest, touched him, comforted him, lied to him, and said it would be fine.

He stopped crying eventually. He was tired. Drained. He wanted to hold his wife, and his daughter. He wanted... Roy back.

He would call the Elric brothers in the morning. He would tell them. He would need them...

To avenge Roy.