It is What it Is (FMA Fanfiction)

Panic Attack

I admittedly had help from Quella'Gorgamin on fictionpress with Roy's part in this.

Story: It Is What It Is, Chapter 14.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.

Note: Well, I DID promise a moment between Roy and Edward... I admittedly had some help with writing this from somebody else, though, so I hope it came out fine. And please note that NONE of this is meant as RoyEd, only Parental, so if you get different vibes, that's on you.

I've slightly changed my writing style, thanks to roleplaying a bit.

A suffocating silence has filled the house, and neither party has said anything for a long time.

Edward doesn't know what to think. While it doesn't happen often, getting into arguments with Alphonse is never any less stressful. He feels sick to his stomach and his chest feels tight. He habitually begins to rub his fingers over his arm, thinking back over his conversation with his brother.

"After everything we've been through together, doesn't it mean anything to you? Don't you trust me?!" Alphonse's words continuously echoes in his head. Of course he trusts Alphonse, he tells himself. Why wouldn't he? Alphonse is his brother, the only family he truly has left, has been by his side every step of their journey, through thick and thin. It's only natural that he should be able to confide in him if he feels the need to.

But he doesn't care to cry over somebody else's shoulder about everything that causes him pain. He doesn't have the time to be focusing on trivial things like that or his feelings. What's wrong with thinking that way?

Edward knows that he doesn't even have the right to focus on his own struggles, considering what he's put Alphonse through. In comparison to his suffering, his own is nothing.

Regardless of Roy's or Riza's words to him in the hospital, a huge part of him still feels like this is his business alone, and that Alphonse doesn't need to get involved, nor anybody else.

A huge part of him still clings to the idea that cutting is the way to deal with everything. A huge part of him doesn't want to stop, and his argument with Alphonse only reiterates why.

Because none of them could truly understand. If they did, they wouldn't be trying to get him to stop.

Yet that doesn't stop the smaller part of him from crying out and telling him it isn't true. It doesn't stop the guilt from welling up inside of him and weighing on his chest, after Alphonse and Riza had left the house. Nor does it stop him from cursing himself for the way he'd shot down Alphonse's concerns as if they weren't valid, and had, in essence, told him to shove off. And it certainly doesn't prevent his breathing from picking up and his heart beat from becoming more erratic by the second after he finally has time to process what had just happened; that he'd just got into a huge argument with his brother, who had meant no harm and only earnestly wanted to help him.

"Fullmetal?" Roy's voice is strained, as he looks over at Edward.

The boy doesn't respond, his normally alert eyes glazed and distant as his automail hand digs into his injured arm, tearing up the bandages around his arm. The freshly scabbed over cuts begin to reopen, blood welling out to stain the white cloth. The liquid trickls down his arm, coating his metal digits.

Shit. Immediately, Roy rushes over to Edward's side. "Ed."

Edward continues scratching at his arm, however, his breaths coming in quick gasps.

Shit. Roy mentally curses. He should've gone with Alphonse. Riza would have been much better qualified to deal with this than him. Roy's heart races, trying to figure out what to do. "Major Edward Elric, let go of your arm right now."

Of course that doesn't work: Edward isn't even responding to his own name. Shit.

Roy wraps an arm around Edward's body and forcibly pries the automail away from Edward's abused arm to keep the boy from injuring himself further. "Calm down, Ed."

"Let me go...!" Edward struggles frantically against him. His automail leg connects with Roy's shin and the man flinches.

"No." His arm tightens around Edward, pulling him closer. "Listen to me, Ed. You're going to be fine. You need to relax."

"I need... more...!" Edward cries, still desperately trying to scratch his arm.

"No, you don't. You can fight against it. You're strong." Roy tells him. Edward's automail leg struck him again and he hisses in pain. "I know you are. You fall down, and you always pick yourself back up again. You lost an arm and a leg, so you became a State Alchemist to get your and your brother's bodies back."

Edward is panting, shaking his head and still, still trying to claw at his bloodied arm.

"Ed, stop it!" Roy's eyes narrow painfully.

Am I suffocating him...? The man relaxes his grip around Edward's torso slightly, but the hand keeping Edward's metal hand from gouging himself remains tense. "Listen to me. I need you to try to breathe slower. Can you count with me to ten between each breath?"

"Shit, of course that wouldn't help..." Fuck. Roy mentally kicks himself after a second. But what else can he do except talk and physically restrain him? "Just focus on my voice, okay?"

Edward gives a small nod, finally beginning to register Roy's words and taking slower breaths.

"Good. That's great. You're doing great, Ed." Roy gives a small sigh of relief, bowing his head over Edward's hair and holding him close. I'm not going to let you die. I swore on the lives I ended in Ishval that I wouldn't let anyone in my power die. "Just keep breathing. You're going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay."

The last part Roy says more for himself than for Edward.

For a while, Edward is still tense, but gradually begins to relax, his golden eyes regaining some of their sharp intelligence, as he soaks in the warmth of the embrace and the gentle yet firm hand resting on the back of his head that vaguely reminds him of his mother.

Yet even after Edward's breathing has largely returned to normal, Roy still can't quite get himself to let go, an irrational fear that Edward will panic again the moment he released his arms, so the man stays where he is.

"Colonel... You can, um,... let go now..." Edward eventually can't deny the small flush forming on his face, purely at how awkward he felt about being so close to the other man now that he is no longer panicking. If it had been Riza, Edward might have not have felt as awkward, but this is Roy, whom he's expressed animosity towards on numerous occasions.

"Oh, right..." Warmth enters Roy's own face in response and he lets go, averting his gaze, and he mentally curses himself.

Riza really should have been the one to stay with Edward. She would have known what to do. God, I can't believe I tried to order him to stop. What was I even thinking?

"Sorry..." Roy stares at the table, the blood smeared on Edward's arms and covering Roy's hands silently blaming him. For not taking action quickly enough. For fumbling around and saying the wrong things. For panicking and letting Edward get so badthat his blood now covers them. He barely has a grasp on how he'd managed to stop, Riza and Hughes had been been there every step of the way. He was NOT qualified to deal with this at all. If Riza had been around-

"What are you apologizing for?" Edward gives a sheepish smile as he glances up at Roy before turning to look towards the wall again. He scratches his cheek a bit, leaving behind a smear of red. "I was the one who started freaking out. It's not like you could have really known what to do."

"Even so, I-" Roy shuts his mouth when the door opens and Riza and Alphonse steps in.

A/N: Cliffhanger!...? Sorry, I've barely had any time to write. It's actually nearly 5 AM and I'm supposed to be at work at 9, so I thought I'd post what I had? Ugh...