Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ More To Life ❯ Chapter 1

More To Life

By steelphoenix

 

Disclaimer: I don't own FullMetal Alchemist, or any of its characters.

Author's Notes: This is a songfic for `(There's Gotta Be) More To Life', by Stacie Orrico. It's kinda angsty / contemplative, I warn you.

No major alterations to the song: I've missed out a couple of repeats of the chorus… I'm sure you'll all cope. Lyrics are in italic and bold. They're in separate sections, so are fairly easy to distinguish.

Warnings: PG-13 for references and minor (really, really minor) language.

 

 

I've got it all, but I feel so deprived
I go up, I come down and I'm emptier inside

 

---

 

Roy Mustang strolled down the street. Actually, swayed was possibly a more accurate description. Staggered was even better.

The young Colonel was definitely a bit (alright, a lot) worse-for-wear. After shouting the bar three rounds of beer, and consuming innumerable cocktails (which no doubt he'd remember every one of when he received the bill - in the morning too, come to think of it), his sense of balance, direction, and propriety had gone completely out the window.

So when he'd ended up in the red-light district, he hadn't thought anything of it. A few hours and a few hundred later, he walked out of an `establishment', his sexual drive satisfied.

But, despite being contentedly fuzzy around the edges - Roy being a happy drunk - and very sated, as he wandered along, trying to remember which way was home, he was not a cheerful man.

Despite the ease with which he'd satisfied the desires of his body, there was something missing. Underneath the warm fuzz, and contented heaviness of his crotch, there was a hole. Disguised, it appeared tiny, but he knew that there was a yawning great pit beneath its seeming innocence.

He should be happy. He was a Colonel, on the line for rapid promotion - all the way to the top, as few knew. The pay was good, the work interesting - especially when it came to giving orders to FullMetal - and he was fast becoming one of the most admired young officers of the East Area.

But he still felt the hole.

 

---

 

Tell me what is this thing that I feel like I'm missing
And why can't I let it go?

 

---

 

He knew that the missing thing wouldn't be so easily defined as something like `sex', or `fame'. He'd been chasing the elusive `something' for years… ever since the Ishbal conflict, he'd felt this emptiness.

Perhaps it was to do with the men and women he'd killed.

Like the Rockbells. That had placed a huge stone on his conscience, that he'd never be rid of, but he knew it wasn't that which was this emptiness. No, he knew that that was a stone that filled his mind, weighting rather than emptying.

He almost wished that the stones on his conscience would decide to slide into that pit, fill it, remove it.

But he knew that no stone in the world would fill it, and equally, that if he tried to fill the void with those weights on his mind, he would go mad.

Not that he wasn't already.

He knew that he couldn't let this go, this opening in his life, this vacancy in his soul. His future could rest on it -

- No. Who was he trying to fool? His happiness certainly did rest on it, as did his peace of mind, but the way his chosen career would take him was firmly mapped out. From promotion to promotion, climbing the ladder to the next station, stepping over the dead and the failed, walking in their footsteps to the next goal.

Their footsteps, or their blood -

- No, the blood was that of his subordinates, of the men and women that followed his lead. Or had given him that lead. Hughes had had an ideal that he had given to Roy, and Roy had taken it and run with it and now it was nearly time for it to come to fruition…

And Hughes wouldn't see it.

Maes would have understood this gap in his life… and helped him, told him what it needed to be filled.

Maes would have understood that until he found out, he couldn't let it go.

 

---

 

There's gotta be more to life...
Than chasing down every temporary high to satisfy me

 

---

 

As he stumbled in the door of his apartment - a smart, austerely-decorated place - the cocktails finally decided to take his away his ability to stand, and he barely made it to the couch before his legs gave out.

Staring at the ceiling, he mused drunkenly, has got to be one of the most useful activities there is. After all, the smooth, pale-cream expanse was textured in random, intricate patterns. Trying to find pictures in the whorls and angles afforded hours of entertainment.

Oh, look, there's a beer jug. It was a pattern he'd never seen before, and it reminded him of the rounds he'd shouted the bar. I wonder how much that cost?

The warmth of the cocktails started dissipate as he briefly tried to remember how much a jug of beer cost. And there were about twenty people…

The flush of alcoholic stimulation on his cheeks faded as he went white. He'd just spend most of his last paycheck…

Thank God I don't do this too often, was the only thing that filled his mind, and he yawned, suddenly unable to care. His eyes began to close, then he realised that the familiar lethargy after a drinking binge had set in. Levering himself to his feet, he shook his head to clear the haze and shuffled over to the staircase.

The high from sex and alcohol had died totally by the time he made it up the stairs and tumbled into his bed.

 

---

 

Cause the more that I'm...
Tripping out thinking there must be more to life
Well it's life, but I'm sure... there's gotta be more
Than wanting more

 

---

 

The morning brought the screeching of an alarm clock, and Roy rolled out of bed, immediately heading to the bathroom for pain medication. The headache from the night before's activities wiped out any cognitive function, and the dark-haired man slumped at the kitchen table, nursing a coffee until the medication began to act.

As his head slowly cleared from the combination of caffeine and drugs, Roy began ticking over what he had to do this morning. Orders to give to Edward, and Riza will be on my tail to do paperwork all morning…

Then came the flicker inevitable with that name.

It was that flicker which had given an inkling of what it could be that he was missing - maybe it was something to do with a pair of determined eyes that had saved his life more than once, and shimmering golden hair, but he wasn't sure at all.

The hole was so big. Could it be filled by that rare, warm smile? Could those dexterous, weapon-callused hands push away that loneliness?

It was strange, thinking of this hole in him. The more he dwelt on it, the more it eluded him. His mind went around and around in circles, slow unending circles that had no beginning, no end, no resolution of any type.

How he wished that they were spirals - getting closer to the truth every time he went around. Perhaps they only got incrementally closer, but they got closer.

Perhaps it was that he wasn't getting any closer to the person who roused these so-complex feelings in him. Every time he tried to talk, there was the slight blink as they caught the current running beneath his voice. And then there would be the smooth movement behind the eyes, and the shutters would go down.

So defensive. Why so defensive? He wondered, setting down his coffee as a chime from the clock informed it was time to go to work.

 

---

 

I've got the time and I'm wasting it slowly
Here in this moment I'm halfway out the door
Onto the next thing, I'm searching for something that's missing

 

---

 

Sitting at his desk the next morning, Roy toyed with his pen. There were three forms resting on the wooden surface, and the Colonel delayed signing, hating the eternal paperwork, but knowing that he had to do it.

There was a sharp rap at the door, and in stepped First Lieutenant Hawkeye, followed by the FullMetal Alchemist. The short blonde strode over to the seat in front of Roy's desk and slumped down, the slight scowl on his indicating his displeasure at being sent on yet another mission.

The blonde woman, meanwhile, made her way over to the desk, slipping around behind it with her typical grace. As she reached for the forms lying on Roy's desk, she noted that they were not signed, and her hand withdrew. A slight frown, oddly like FullMetal's, briefly creased her forehead. Then she stepped back, and took her place at the side of the desk.

Orders were fast enough. It was a simple mission - retrieval - and FullMetal had carried out enough of them to be familiar with procedure. Forms filled out and signed, passes handed over, and the young man rose again.

Escorted to the door by Hawkeye, FullMetal turned just before he went out. “Hey, remember, I won't die before you, Colonel Shit!”

Roy raised a sardonic eyebrow. Just because the boy hadn't insulted him before now… “That's nice to know, FullMetal. Now get your short ass out of here.”

Hawkeye flicked him a `Did you have to do that?' look as she pinned the young man's arms behind his back and dragged him out, swearing. I really should stop teasing FullMetal, Roy thought, then grinned. He'd stop teasing the boy when he stopped reacting.

Perhaps that's why…! Roy had a sudden flash of inspiration as a thought occurred to him. Perhaps that's why they wouldn't talk to him… they weren't sure of how to react, not having had a lot of experience in this sort of thing before. A little like how FullMetal overreacts… he's almost… compensating… for not knowing what else to do.

The office clock chimed 10 am, and he was snapped out of contemplation. Here I am wasting time worrying about FullMetal's insecurities… Riza'll kill me if I don't have this done by lunchtime. And then there's the next thing to do… rifle scores… He sighed, resigned to the task, and picked up his pen again.

 

---

 

I'm always waiting on something other than this
Why am I feelin' like there's something I missed…

 

---

 

As his lunch sandwich slipped down his throat, Roy mused again. He had finished the paperwork, and the afternoon was bound to be slower-paced, despite FullMetal not having left the office yet.

Perhaps this afternoon was right for conveying his feelings. Maybe they would be received… answered…

I'm waiting… I'm waiting for an answer. Another revelation hit him - prompting the thought, Well, well… so many revelations this morning - and Roy began following through the implications.

He couldn't understand his own feelings.

He was waiting on a reaction, waiting for some sort of sign or signal from the other person.

Only then would he be able to understand what he felt.

So, I need to get a reaction out of them, he pondered as the string of logic followed through. Then a thought struck him. Forcing feelings is dangerous… and painful.

If these feelings are what I think they are, then I'll just have to be gentle, and wait for the indication. It was going to be painful, but there was no other way. It wasn't right to coerce something as important as this.

Maybe I'll have to wait a long time… but waiting was always a strong point for me.

Perhaps I'll always be waiting…

 

---

 

Always…
Always…

 

 

Author's Notes: No, I'm not telling you who the pairing is. Work it out for yourselves. There are clues in the text.