Foul Depths

"But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun; Himself his own dungeon."

-John Milton

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you should send Ed and his brother away on a mission. At least until this whole mess is taken care of."

The past week had not been kind to Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes. Two kidnappings in the past week brought the total up to six in the last three months. Three bodies had been found and verified in dumpsters around Central, but the remaining three victims were missing without a trace. The investigation had been sloppy and, after the head investigator had been relieved of his duties, Hughes found himself with a large mess to clean up. Dealing with missing kids, only to find them in pieces weeks later, was not something Maes wanted to get involved in. It made his stomach turn and, like many other people who no longer let their kids play outside, it terrified him deeply.

He had brought some of his files to Roy's office, hoping that going over the details with someone might reveal something that had been overlooked. But all he ended up doing was covering Roy's desk with more paperwork and pictures of children, both of when they were alive and of when they were found later, very much deceased.

"I don't currently have a mission to send Fullmetal on. Even if I did, he's just got out of the hospital again. He'll be staying nearby until he is cleared for active duty."

"Make him go back to Risembool then." Maes began to shift his files into a more organized stack. Roy regarded him closely for a moment. You didn't really need to know Maes Hughes well to see that there was something off with him. There were dark circles under his eyes and a hunch to his posture that wasn't there two weeks ago.

"You're really worried about this? Do you really think Fullmetal could fall prey to a kidnapper with no known alchemic ability? While he is staying in his dorm? With his brother constantly nearby? Fullmetal will be safe enough here. He might even be of use to your investigation once he is up to it."

"No." Maes head snapped up and Roy didn't miss the sharp look in his eyes and the edge to his voice. "I don't want his help with this." He slipped a picture from his stack and slid it across the desk towards Roy. "Jay Kroger was 11 and he was taller than Ed."

"Well, that's not saying much... and the report I read said he isn't considered a part of these kidnappings. It was too long ago. They say he was a runaway." Roy slid the picture of the frowning boy back towards his friend.

"They found remains just outside of the city, and we can't verify anything because there isn't much there to verify. But I think it's him. I'm going to request to have his case reopened." Hughes slid the photograph back into its appropriate folder. "Please think about it, Roy. As it is, I'm considering having Gracia take Elicia out of Central for a while. Just don't let Ed wander around alone." And there was that haunted look, brought on by too many nights unable to sleep; too many nights staring at the ceiling worrying for his own daughter and over children he didn't know at all… Because that last girl who was taken was only four and didn't she look a little bit like his Elicia?

Mustang narrowed his eyes. Hughes was getting too involved. "Ed's not supposed to be doing much wandering anyway. He's been ordered to rest and he won't return to active duty for at least another week." Maes considered this for a moment and shifted in his seat wearily.

"It was really bad then? His arm?"

"You saw it. He got blood all over the hallway and managed to slice up his face as well."

"I saw it, but I was hoping it wasn't as bad as it looked. I didn't get a chance to visit him in the hospital because this whole mess got tossed in my lap. I still can't believe he managed to punch his arm through that glass door. His automail leg I understand, but the way it all shattered around the rest of him was unbelievable."

"Well, he was running like there was no door there at all. Unsurprisingly, they've decided to not put any more glass doors anywhere in the building. So much for getting a little more sunlight in our corridors."

Hughes nodded at that, but couldn't find it in him to bemoan the lack of the bright light he would have had while walking to the cafeteria.

"It's all a mess," He muttered and Roy knew he wasn't just talk about the Fullmetal Alchemist's latest disaster. Roy let out a sigh.

"Is there really nobody else who can take care of this investigation? It's not like it's strictly a military matter. Anyone could have taken up this case."

"Kidnappings right under the military's noses, no solid leads and everyone is starting to panic. I'm not sure if I should be flattered that they think I will procure results or weary that I might end up the scapegoat when this all goes to hell." Maes picked up a picture of the latest found victim. A seven year old that had been dumped in an alleyway. She was mostly intact except for her eyes and her hair had been completely shorn off. "Not that it already hasn't," Maes muttered…his mind drifting off to a darker place.

If it would make his friend lose that haunted look and maybe rest a bit easier at night…

"Maes, I will tell Edward to be careful."

Hughes looked up at that and Roy thought he saw a bit of the shadow dissipate. "Not that he listens to me. I told him not to run around like a child indoors and you can see where that got us."

Maes let out a humorless laugh. "I appreciate you talking to him."

"It won't be a problem; he should be stopping by later today with his overdue report… or tomorrow, if he forgets again. I will speak to him."

"Thank you… Well, I'm late to have to turn in a disappointing report of my own. Thanks for letting me go through the case with you."

"I'm not sure how involved you want me in this, but you can use my desk again for your investigation board anytime you need to. You can even come back after your meeting if you want."

"You're just trying to get out of doing your own paperwork…again."

"What are unfilled out forms in comparison to a friend in need? Seriously though, I don't mind the interruption."

Maes let out a sigh as he gathered up his folders in his arms. "No. No more today. Tomorrow, though?"

"Sure. Around lunchtime?"

"It's a date."

Roy smirked slightly, at least his friend was still up for a bit of their usual banter. "Crime scene photographs and a meal? You do spoil me so."

"You know it."

Also, this way, he could make sure Maes was still eating. Roy would help out in any way he possibly could. As well as trying to help a friend, a solved case like this would give Maes a needed boost and, any advancement for Hughes, would ultimately work for Roy's benefit as well. He couldn't do much about his friend's lack of sleep, except maybe slip him a tranquilizer at lunch. He let that idea shift to the back of his mind; he probably wouldn't need to go to such lengths. Probably.

Hughes gave a wave before shuffling off with his paperwork gripped too tightly in his calloused hands. He looked like he had aged about ten years in just a matter of a few days.

Roy decided he would go home and locate his sedatives just in case.

Ed wasn't going to lie, his damn arm was sore. It hurt where the stitches pulled at his skin and his muscle ached from holding it awkwardly to protect it from bumping into things. The cut was long, extending from his elbow out toward the back of his hand. He had loosely bandaged his arm the first day out of hospital, but he grew impatient with the process. Unwrapping and rewrapping his arm every time the bandage got a little damp or dirty was a pain in the ass. Also, he didn't want to go around with his arm wrapped up so completely (it made it look worse than it was, really), He would just leave it exposed, but, quite frankly, it was ugly to look at and it made Al make high pitched squeaks whenever he saw it. His red coat, while relatively loose, rubbed uncomfortably against his healing skin. However, he decided it was better than bandaging it every day, so he would just have to deal with the cloth catching on his stitches a bit. It wasn't so bad, really. He just had to make minimal movement with his left arm.

His face was another matter. He couldn't hide the cut that began at the bridge of his nose and travelled under his left eye to end near his ear. The small stitches there were only in his cheek, where the cut was deepest, but it still looked awful. There really wasn't much to be done to hide it. Edward's hair could only cover up so much of his face and it was at an awkward place to bandage, as any movement Ed made with his face caused the bandage to unstick and fall off. He decided he didn't care and just carried on as if the cut wasn't there, but he was starting to hate the way people looked at it. People raised their eyebrows and pity would flit across their faces. Al stared too, but it was usually because he was checking for redness that could be a sign of infection. Ed hated it. He hated people looking and Al looking and all the damn mirrors in the world looking at him. He needed to be healed and he needed to get the stitches out and he needed to get back to work. This was why he was actually on his way to see Colonel Bastard, instead of blowing him off for another day.

Though, now that Ed was irritated and thinking on the subject, that hospital stay had been unnecessary too. Nothing was broken and once the bleeding was stopped, he was fine. He should not have had to stay there for two nights. Why did everyone act like he couldn't take care of his own stitches? He could remember to check for infection just fine… well… Al could remember to check for infection just fine.

"I hope I bled on his uniform and he wasn't able to get it out." Ed grumbled bitterly, thinking back on how the Colonel had been the first to find him and put pressure on his wounds. "Now he's probably going to lecture me too. Like I need a lecture. It's not my fault they installed a glass door while I was away on a mission."

Edward was in a foul mood by the time he arrived at the Colonel's office. He didn't feel better when everyone asked how he was doing or when they inquired about his hospital stay. They didn't look at him with pity exactly, but it was with some concern. Ed wasn't in the mood for concern. The accident was dumb and he wanted to just move on and pretend it didn't happen. By the time Hawkeye informed him that he could go inside the inner office to meet with the Colonel, he wanted to open the door with a kick, just so everyone would know how much of a mood he was in and how much he didn't need their concern. Havoc was giving him a bemused look though and Ed thought he was about to comment on his recent catastrophes with other doors. To escape their looks and their comments, Edward just quickly pulled the door open and closed it with a snap behind him. The only problem with this was that he was now in the room with Colonel Bastard and he was going to have to endure the lecture of a lifetime. First, for turning in his pointless report late, second for destroying military property and third… Edward wasn't even sure if there was a third, but he knew the Colonel would think of something.

"You do look terrible," Mustang said blankly. Ed's eye twitched and the slight movement pulled at his stitches. He let out an irritated puff of air.

"I was in the hospital. What's your excuse?" Ed placed his report on the desk. He would have slapped the papers down in annoyance, but he couldn't move that arm well enough to do so yet. Roy actually smirked at that.

"Don't put your arm through glass doors and you won't need to go to the hospital."

"Like I did it on purpose!" Ed's sudden shout was too loud and it made Mustang narrow his eyes slightly. Edward wasn't sure why he was so angry exactly, but he was. He was all wound up from having to stay still for so long… and he was still faced with at least a week of rest. It was making his skin crawl. The Colonel took the slightly rumpled papers and gave Edward a harsh look from over the top of his report.

"Fullmetal, you are aware you could have died?"

"Yes…" Ed ground out.

"If you had hit an artery-"

"I know!" Ed didn't want the lecture. He had known it was coming, but he still didn't want to hear it. Hadn't the stay in the hospital been enough of a punishment?

"Sit down," Mustang said abruptly.

"What?" Ed tilted his head to the side at the change of pace in the conversation. Was he not going to get the lecture after all?

"Sit down until I finish reading this, you look like you need to." The Colonel's eyes had softened a bit as his attention was turned to read the papers in front of him.

"…Fine." There was no point in arguing for arguing's sake and Ed really did feel tired all of a sudden. It was his pain medication, he decided. Perhaps I took too much? Ed briefly wondered. But, no... Alphonse helped him keep track of those things and he trusted his brother with it. Resigned to sitting down, but still not one to do anything with complete compliance, He clomped loudly over to the nearest couch and sat down to sulk a bit.

Edward was not expecting to fall asleep. The pain killers sometimes made him drowsy, but surely they weren't bad enough to make him pass out in Roy Mustang's office? When Ed was awoken by a hand on his shoulder, he didn't know where he was for a moment. Mustang ignored the undignified, surprised squeak he emitted and simply raised an eyebrow while his subordinate got his bearings. He noticed that the brat had drooled on his couch… fantastic.

"You were snoring, Fullmetal."

Edward looked around the room, but didn't seem to have a comeback ready. His mind hadn't really woken up yet.

"Your report is adequate. Please walk back to your dorm and get some rest."

"That's it? You're not going to…"

"Going to what?"

"Lecture me more?"

"…Not today."

Edward stood up, forgetting not to use his left arm as leverage against the arm of the couch. He tried very quickly to cover his wince with a cough. He didn't think it worked very well, especially with the way the Colonel was scrutinizing him. Edward started to make his way out to the door, but was stopped when Mustang called to him.

"Fullmetal." Ed turned to regard him and caught a strange look in his eye. He almost looked… uncomfortable? Whatever it was, there was a lack of confidence about it. The look was gone quickly though and replaced with an expressionless mask. "Until you are fully healed and return to active duty, you are not to go anywhere alone."

"What? Why?!" Ed demanded. That was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. Just because he put his arm through one door! So, yes. He had wanted Al at that moment when he had noticed his blood splatter all over the wall and maybe… hehadcriedalittlebit when Colonel Bastard showed up and was trying to stop his bleeding, but that wasn't reason to forbid him from going places alone!

"You just passed out in my office within only a minute of sitting down. You can't be fainting all over the city. It isn't safe," Roy said matter-of-factly.

"I didn't faint!" Edward was getting worked up now. "It's just- I'm just a little tired. What do you expect? Nobody sleeps well in hospitals!"

"Regardless, you are not to go out alone. You will stay close to your brother. If you can't do that, then I will have somebody assigned to you-"

"I don't need a babysitter!"

"Fullmetal!" Roy stopped and took a quick breath. The escalating argument didn't need to get any worse. "You will do as I say. Do I make myself clear?"

Edward had turned his head down and was glaring a hole in the carpet. He grit his teeth and gave a curt nod. That would have to do. No way was he going to say anything else to the bastard. Ed turned abruptly to leave; he wasn't going to wait for a dismissal. To hell with that.

It was because of his glaring at the floor that something out of place caught his eye. Near the bottom of the doorframe, there was a small, plain white square with some writing scrawled across it. Edward picked it up with only the fleeting thought that it might have been something he had dropped on his way in. While he didn't remember writing anything important down, he would sometimes keep notes in his pockets.

Claudine Oda, age 7 was written in hurried penmanship. Edward blinked. That didn't ring any bells. Edward turned with his hand out towards the Colonel. He had opened his mouth to say that somebody had dropped this, when he realized it was a photograph and he was looking at the back of it. He casually flipped it over and then found that all the air had vanished from his lungs. The result was an awkward choking sound being expelled from his mouth, but Edward couldn't hear it. A rushing noise, like a thunderous waterfall, filled his ears and his vision narrowed so that everything disappeared except for the small photograph.

It was a picture of a child… but her eyes were gone… just gouged out of her skull and all her hair was hacked off. Terrifying thoughts began to rush through Edward's mind. This couldn't be right. He must be mistaken. Ed blinked hard, but the image remained the same and Ed felt a cold drop of fear fill his gut. His heart stuttered to a stop and all he could do was gape in wordless horror.

Roy had sensed that something was very wrong. When he realized what Ed had found, Roy remarked that Hughes must have dropped it and, to be completely honest, he felt a pang of worry for his friend that had become so despondent lately that he would drop such a piece of evidence without noticing. Roy's worry had changed into something else when he heard the strangled noise Edward had made at sight of the picture. It wasn't easy to look at and Roy thought he understood why it would startle Fullmetal so badly. Nobody could casually glance at that photo and not react with some degree of horror. However, there was something deeper in Edward's expression. Not just revulsion or surprise, but a complete mind numbing fear. After the slightest hesitation, Mustang moved quickly and snatched the photo from his subordinate's hand. Edward, however, had a tight grip on the photo and he did not release it immediately. The abrupt movement caused Ed's arm to jerk and he let out a startled gasp as the motion brought him back to the present. While Roy moved to put the photograph away in his desk, Edward remembered how to breathe.

"Are you going to pass out?" Mustang asked. The question was asked in all seriousness as Edward really looked like he might faint or vomit. The boy shook his head and began to take a step backwards towards the door. Roy was reminded of a caged animal. Caged animals could be dangerous, but like hell he was going to let him leave before he got to the bottom of this reaction.

"Did you know her?" Roy thought that could make sense, but he needed to get Edward to open his mouth and explain. Something wasn't right. Edward shook his head, but didn't meet the Colonel's eyes.

"Did she just… remind you of something then?"

"I don't know her. I don't know anything about it. I-I have to go back to Al," Ed blurted. He was cradling his injured arm close to his chest at this point and he reached back and found the door handle with his automail hand. "I have to- I have to…"

Edward was out the door and gone before Roy could say anything else. Hawkeye soon appeared in the doorway with a confused look on her face.

"Sir?" She inquired. Roy let out a deep sigh. He could drop this. Let the kid have some space and ask him about it later or he could follow up on it before Edward did something potentially stupid. At least there weren't any more glass doors he could run through.

"Lieutenant, will you come with me?"

"Of course, Sir."

On their way to the dorms, Roy turned Edward's reaction over and over in his mind. Did Edward know something about the kidnappings? The murders? It was still possible that Edward had known this child and had refused to say anything about it. Or Roy could be seeing things that weren't there. Ed had been in physical pain (Roy wasn't blind, he noticed the way Fullmetal held his arm stiffly and the subtle winces he tried to hide); perhaps it was worse than he originally thought. No, it couldn't have just been pain that caused his reaction in his office. Something was going on... or maybe Hughes' investigation was putting him on edge too.

When they arrived at the dorm they were greeted by a very large and very flustered suit of armor.

"Alphonse, is your brother here?" Roy didn't have time to waste.

"Brother is ill," Alphonse said right away and he gestured to the closed bathroom door. The Colonel registered the sound of retching coming from the other side of it. A slight feeling of doubt began to grow in Mustang's mind. Had he really read the situation wrong? Perhaps Fullmetal had suddenly felt ill and the fear he thought he saw was only sickness striking suddenly.

"Alphonse, do you know anything about the kidnappings that have been happening around Central lately?"

"Kidnappings?" Alphonse straightened up, looking startled at the sudden change in conversation. "No, that's terrible."

"I thought your brother might know one of the victims." The brothers were rarely separated. Surely, if Ed knew the victim, then Al would too. "Does the name Claudine Oda mean anything to you?"

Alphonse hesitated for the briefest moment.

"… No. It doesn't sound familiar." Roy felt he was telling the truth and he hesitated on questioning him further. Maybe he had gotten it wrong. The doubt began to mar his thoughts.

"Brother really is ill… sometimes they don't give him the right medicine dosage for his…ah…size." The last word was whispered in fear that Edward might overhear through the door. However, by the sound of vomiting, Roy doubted Fullmetal could hear anything going on outside the bathroom. Was that it then? The scene created in his office was just a reaction from illness brought on by too much pain killers and antibiotics? No, Roy had seen fear in Fullmetal's eyes, not just sickness. He was sure of it.

"Will you tell your brother that he is to report back to me tomorrow when he is… feeling better."

"Yes, sir," Alphonse quickly responded.

"Take him to the hospital if he starts getting worse and tell them to be sure to account for the weight of his automail before they give him anything."

"Yes, sir. They usually do."

"If he doesn't show up tomorrow, I will come here looking for him. Understood?"

"Yes, Colonel."

"Thank you, Alphonse." With one last look at the closed bathroom door, Mustang and Hawkeye took their leave. Roy tried to push back the doubts in his mind. Perhaps Edward's reaction wasn't related to the case, but he couldn't ignore the growing sense of dread gnawing at the inside of his stomach. Something was amiss and he would figure it out no matter what.

"They've promised that dreams can come true - but forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams, too."

― Oscar Wilde

It had been a hot day when Edward decided to go play in the creek near the woods. He wasn't exactly supposed to play there. The thistles and stinging nettle plants grew thick along the water and all the children in the area were warned away from playing their games there. There was something else wrong with it too. Something the adults didn't always say outright to the smaller children. However, Ed was clever and he had overheard one day the adults talking about the strange men that had, at one time, taken refuge huddled in the deep foliage around the shallowest parts of the stream. Transients, the parents had said. However, the consensus seemed to be that none of these men were there anymore and it was only the possibility of their presence that parents worried over.

Edward thought this was stupid. He knew how to avoid thistles and the stinging weed. So why should the remote possibility of any homeless wanderers be any concern of his? He was seven now and he didn't have to be careful like the little kids did. Besides, he had made a bet that he could catch more crayfish than that annoying Kaleb who lived down the road. Edward hated that boy as much as he possibly could hate anyone.

Kaleb's family had moved to the area two years ago and Edward had hated him every day of those two years. Kaleb's older brother, Samuel, was the exact opposite of Kaleb and was always kind to everyone, but that might have been because he was fourteen and practically an adult already. Kaleb was taller than Ed and he was nearly a year older. Plus, he always acted like he was the best at everything. More than that, Kaleb had once pulled Winry's hair and he had pushed Al in the mud after the last time it rained! He was always horrible! And Ed had punched him good after he made Al cry, but his mother scolded him because of that. If Ed wasn't going to be allowed to beat him up in a fair fight, then he would certainly win this bet they had made.

They had been playing under the shade of some trees when Kaleb had walked up and begun to brag about playing down by the creek where nobody was supposed to go. He said he had caught five crayfish all by himself and it had been so nice to play in the cool creek while the others had to escape the sun by playing in the shade. Edward said he could play in the creek too and catch way more crayfish than dumb Kaleb any day.

And that is more or less how Edward made the first bet in his short life. This was why he was now standing at the brink of the deep ditch that slanted down towards the creek at its bottom. He couldn't actually see the water from where he was. The trees and shrubs were overgrown and they completely obstructed his view. Edward gave the darkness a weary glance, but then shook his head with resolution. He wasn't afraid of any silly shadows! He cautiously began to pick his way through the branches and, while keeping an eye out for plants that could harm him, Edward descended into the dark.

The foliage was so thick that very little light reached down to the slow moving stream. Edward blinked hard a few times to adjust his eyes to the sudden twilight. He carefully maneuvered around a patch of the nefarious stinging nettle and readjusted his grip on the bucket he had brought from home. A few more steps and he would be at the creek's rocky edge. He caught glimpse of fast movement in the water. A fish (or maybe one of the crayfish he was after) darted out of sight. A grin started forming on his face. This was going to be easy. One more step and he could probably just dip his bucket in and-

"What brings you here?"

Ed dropped his bucket into the stream with a splash and he flailed his arms so he wouldn't lose his footing on the damp stones. After he stopped himself from falling face first into the water, he looked up to see a face peering at him from amongst the shrubs on his left. The vegetation rustled and parted and the disembodied face rose up out of the dark to reveal a tall man dressed in dark, dirty clothes. His hair was a light brown and his eyes were a striking light blue that seemed to shine in the darkness. He carried a slight grin on his face and his voice had a roughness to it as if he hadn't used it in some time.

Edward's heart was still pounding from the surprise of finding someone here and it didn't slow down now that the man was towering over him.

"What's your name?" The stranger asked. Edward's eyes darted to his discarded bucket briefly.

"Ed," he answered stiffly and he stuck out his chest a bit. He wasn't afraid at all, he had just been surprised. The man let out a sudden bark of laughter and Ed was startled again, but he only flinched a little.

"So then… ED. What brings you here?" The stranger's teeth flashed in the darkness as he grinned down at the boy.

"Crayfish." Edward motioned to the creek and his bucket, which had now mostly sunk. The man reached down and saved the bucket from being overcome completely. He emptied the water out of it and gave the object a scrutinizing look.

"Crayfish, huh? You won't catch much with just your hands and a bucket though… I have some back at my camp, you can have them if you'd like."

Edward shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He did want the crayfish…

"Come with me. I've got a bunch of the things. You can have them all." His teeth flashed again in a smile, but something didn't sound right with his voice. It sounded off , like… like… He's not telling the truth. The thought struck Edward with such clarity, that he stopped mid step. When had he even started moving? The strange man didn't seem to be smiling anymore and Edward fumbled with his words.

"Ed!" A young voice suddenly rang out through the dark. Alphonse! Ed turned and looked back the way he had come in. He couldn't see his brother, but it sounded like he was near the top of the slope.

"That a friend of yours? He can come down here too…"

With a twist in his stomach, Edward realized that he didn't like the idea of this man talking to his little brother and he felt a stab of fear, not for himself, but for Al.

Edward turned and ran from that dark place. He stumbled through branches and thorns and at one point he was scrambling on his hands and knees in the dirt. For the briefest moment he could have sworn he felt a hand wrap around his foot, but he had crashed through a patch of stinging nettle and then all he could hear was a faint cursing over the roaring in his ears. When he finally broke free of the brush, he saw his little brother at the very edge of the overgrowth, toeing some branches, trying to find a way down to the creek. Edward grabbed his brother's arm and went running across the field and down the path towards home. Al started shouting at him to let go, but Edward refused. He ran past other people on the road and someone called out to him. Edward barely registered that he had run right past Kaleb and he was probably taunting him about something.

When they finally ran up to their front door, Alphonse was crying and Edward was bleeding from scrapes on his knees, hands and face. Bumps had sprung up on his skin from contact with the stinging weed. Their mother asked what had happened, but he couldn't catch his breath to explain it to her. She cleaned him up, applied medicine to his wounds and bandaged him. The rash stayed for a long while and nothing his mother did seemed to soothe it. It kept him up late into the night as he could not get comfortable in his bed. Edward never did find the breath to explain what happened.

When they found Kaleb's body four days later in the creek, his eyes had been gouged out from their sockets.

Edward was ill for a long time after that.

Edward couldn't breathe. From the moment his eyes snapped open in wakefulness, his lack of oxygen was the only thing on his mind. He just couldn't draw breath. A sudden darkness loomed over him and he threw out both arms in defense. His arms collided with metal and he was too late to realize that he still needed to be careful of his stitches.

"Brother!" Alphonse cried out. A great deal of worry filled that single word. "Are you alright?"

A harsh stinging worked its way up his arm and Ed couldn't tell if the pain was from the nettle or his abused stitches. No, no that's not right. The nettle had been years and years ago. Ed felt the sudden rise of bile creep up his throat. He struggled to get out of the bed, but the sheets had become tangled in his legs and his arm hurt. Luckily, Alphonse had taken a step back and he avoided getting vomit on his armored feet or legs when Ed hurled over the side of his mattress.

"Brother!" Alphonse's worried voice again. The lights came on in the room and Edward blinked in the brightness. "It's alright. You don't need to apologize." Alphonse said as he helped untangle the sheets from Edward's legs. Ed was finally able to take in a deep breath. He hadn't even realized that the murmured sound in the background was his own voice apologizing over and over and over again…

Edward started to curl up on the mattress. He felt drained and there was a pit in his stomach that wouldn't go away. A sense of shame had crept over him. He hadn't thought about that day when he was seven in years. He couldn't bring it all up now again. It was in the distant past and it needed to stay buried there. Just because one photo was only similar to what had happened back then….

Stop it. Don't think about it. He scolded himself. It's not the same. It's not the same. It can't be the same. There's no way. I'm overreacting. It's not the same. It's not…

"Brother, your stitches are red."

Alphonse had gently pulled Ed's arm away from him and was examining the long line of stitches along his arm. The redness had indeed spread from the edges of the wound and Edward didn't know how long they had looked like that. Al carefully passed his gauntlet through the air right above the wound, as if he had been about to touch his brother's arm.

"Is it… warm? Do they hurt?"

Ed shook his head, but it was very slight. He began to turn his head to hide his face in the mattress, but with a dull throb of pain he was reminded of the stitches in his cheek.

"Are you telling me the truth?" Alphonse didn't sound angry, but worried and sad.

"It's not infected. Just… irritated." Red and swollen from catching on his coat, from being moved around too quickly… from being hit against his brother's metal chest piece… He wouldn't say that though. He could never say anything that might suggest that Al was at fault at all. He had been the one to thrash about so wildly just because of a stupid dream of something that had happened so long ago. Feeling less foggy then when he had first woken up; Edward forced himself to sit up. He couldn't let Al see him acting like this. He couldn't let anyone see.

"I'll clean this up," Ed motioned to the vomit that was still splattered across the floor. It wasn't very much and Edward remembered that he had not eaten dinner that night.

"No, Brother. You can go clean yourself up. I can take care of this."

It was at that moment that Ed realized he had gotten puke in his hair. Well, it was his fault for not tying it back before falling asleep.

The next time that Ed awoke, the sun was shining brightly through their single window and the dorm still smelled like throw up. Edward's stomach gave an unpleasant turn and he began to curl himself into a ball. As if on cue, Al's voice rang out in the morning.

"Brother, are you awake? Are you hungry?"

Ed let out a moan, but didn't articulate anything.

"Ed, you should eat."

"No…."

"Then we should go to the hospital."

"What? No." Edward sat up to protest, but flopped back down pathetically back on the mattress.

"Hospital or Colonel Mustang. You'll have to pick one, because Colonel wants to see you again today."

"What? Why?" Edward kicked his automail leg in protest so that it hit the wall with a loud thump.

"I told you last night, Ed. The Colonel stopped by and said he wanted to see you today if you were feeling better."

That didn't seem right… Ed didn't remember Al saying anything about that. Though, when Edward really thought about it, he realized that a lot of the previous evening was a bit fuzzy. He remembered being ill and lying on the bathroom floor for a while… Then he must have made the transition to his bed and fallen asleep.

"Brother, you look pale. If you are not feeling well, you should see a doctor."

Edward could not argue anymore with Alphonse on this... and if it was a choice between a hospital visit and having to talk to the Colonel about what had happened…

"Fine, Al. I'll go to the hospital again. But I don't think it's infected." Edward gave his arm a gentle wave in the air. The stitches looked less red around the edges, but they did still hurt and Ed felt that he wouldn't say no to a few more pain pills that would get him through the next few days. As far as he was concerned, as soon as he was cleared for active duty, he was going to get the hell out of Central, mission or no mission.

…It's not the same. It's not…

"I'll call the Colonel's office and tell him you probably won't be seeing him today. You get ready to go."

Edward let out a little sigh of relief, thankful that his brother had offered to make the call. He couldn't risk talking about this. He just couldn't. If this was some demon from the past, then fine. Edward would fight it tooth and nail to lock it back in the recesses of his mind for the rest of his life. There was no point in dragging it all out now.

"There have been kidnappings in several cities in the past two years that are similar to ours. Most of those victims were never found, but the two that were found near Awrosut… had their eyes removed."

"You think this killer is from out of town then."

"Yes, possibly from the East. I've requesting records from all unsolved kidnapping and missing child cases from all over Amestris. The reports just started to come in yesterday, but some of the most relevant ones are coming from near East City. This is only a few of them. I've had more and more coming in all day... I could be sorting through old reports for weeks."

Roy looked over the impressive array of information that was scattered over his desk again. Some items were new, but most were pieces of information he had already seen. A few new photographs caught his eye. They stuck out because they were some of the only images of adults.

"What are these?" Roy asked, picking up a photo of an angry looking man with black hair and dark eyes.

"Old suspects in old kidnapping cases from our closest neighboring cities. That's Lance Bradford. He was picked up in East City. He wasn't charged with anything though. He had an alibi for the night the kid there went missing."

Roy set the photograph down and picked up another. This man had light blue eyes and long brown hair. His expression seemed pretty neutral though.

"Warren Pace. He was a drifter. They never found any evidence against him. Most likely just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Maes tapped the last picture on the desk with his finger. The man had a shaved head and dull grey eyes. An ugly sneer stretched across his face. "This is Brian Ford. He just got out of prison a few months ago. Nobody seems to know where he currently is."

"What was he sentenced for?"

"He stabbed some people in a bar. Nobody died, but most consider him to be unstable. They were never able to gather enough evidence against him, but for a time he lived near one of the victims."

At that moment, Riza Hawkeye entered Mustang's office. Roy inwardly cringed at the thought that she might be bringing him more paperwork. She knew he was helping Hughes and had agreed that it was important enough for him to postpone signing a few documents… hopefully she hadn't changed her mind.

"Sir, Edward will not be in today. He has gone to see a doctor."

Roy's eyes barely twitched in surprise and Hughes set the notes he was carrying down on the desk.

"He was still ill then." Roy stated, glancing at Maes and catching the worry that crossed his friend's face.

"According to his brother, they are worried his stitches are showing signs of infection."

Roy nodded and let out the smallest of sighs through his nose.

"I want to know if he is admitted."

"Of course, sir." Hawkeye gave a nod at Hughes and then turned to leave the room and go back to work. When the door shut behind her, Maes gave Roy a despondent look.

"You didn't tell me Ed wasn't doing well."

"I wasn't going to say anything until I knew if it was something that really needed to be worried about. You have enough of a burden with all of this." And Roy gestured to all the evidence littering the desk. Well, that was certainly true, but…

"Some burdens are borne more readily than others. Worrying about Edward isn't the same as this." Maes rested his elbow heavily on the desk, his eyes darting one way and then the other over the gathered evidence.

"I will let you know once I figure out what the problem is with him."

"His brother said his stitches are showing signs of infection…"

"Yes…" Roy trailed off then as if he was trying to decide to tell Maes something. Hughes knew Roy well and he could usually tell when his friend was omitting information from him. He didn't usually outright lie, but he had a habit of not telling the whole truth sometimes.

"Roy… Is something wrong?"

"Not sure yet. Come on, we are supposed to be getting lunch." The subject change was abrupt and threw Hughes off. He opened his mouth to protest, but only let out a sigh. Pick and choose your battles. That was something he had started telling himself when dealing with his daughter as she was going through her terrible twos. Interesting how it worked for so many other aspects of his life.

They could have easily asked someone to bring them food and that way Hughes could have continued to work through his investigation, while ignoring his sandwich nearby. However, Mustang insisted they walk themselves to the cafeteria and eat lunch there. While it wasn't exactly a fancy restaurant, the change of scenery and the break from work was greatly needed. Roy had said they shouldn't talk about anything work related and instead focus on anything else. While, usually, Maes would take this opportunity to gush over his adorable little daughter, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Every time he thought of his daughter, a rock seemed to settle in his stomach and he felt the urgent need to call home and make sure she was still fine. That she was still there and safe with her mother. Maes frowned at the wilting lettuce leaves in his salad.

"Tell me about your new receptionist." Roy stated out of the blue.

"What?" Maes snapped out of his haze with a jerk.

"She married?"

"Engaged," Hughes answered distractedly, but his mouth twitched up in a small smile. Leave it to Roy…

"Still time, then." Mustang responded with a smirk.

"Stay away from her," Hughes gave his friend a warning glare, but they both knew it wasn't serious.

"I'll just stop by your office a few times. Eventually she'll come to me."

"Roy… you're terrible." Maes laughed for the first time in a long time.

It was probably for the best that Maes Hughes was with Roy Mustang when he learned that six year old Tobias Winthrop's body had been found dumped in a back alley behind a local restaurant. Though not technically part of the investigation, Mustang had accompanied his friend to the scene. When they arrived there, Roy was glad that he hadn't finished his lunch. Besides missing his fingers, toes and eyes, the victim's body was mostly intact. However, the smell of decay was heavy and it was obvious that someone had lost the contents of their stomach already near the far wall. Roy could take the smell and even the sight of the mutilated body, but he would be lying if he said his stomach hadn't given an uncomfortable turn.

Lieutenant Colonel Hughes began commanding officers left and right. Evidence had to be gathered, photographs had to be taken and witnesses needed to be questioned as quickly as possible. Roy watched his friend work with an intensity that he rarely saw. They needed a break in this case. Hughes needed it.

After the initial flurry of activity, Maes returned briefly to Roy's side. A moment of silence passed between the two and Roy crossed his arms in front of him, nudging Maes with his elbow in the process. This seemed to snap Hughes out of his trance.

"I left a lot of files on your desk." Hughes started. He had left nearly all of his files there. "Do you think you can have them delivered back to my office?"

Roy tried to ignore that haunted look that crept at the edges of his friend's face.

"I will see that it is done."

"Thank you, Roy."

Roy nodded and then left briskly. He had some work to do.

Edward was cleared to go back to his dorm. There didn't seem to be an infection, but he was told to be more careful with his stitches. He was happy to learn, however, that the few stitches under his eye could be removed in two days. Edward hated those ones especially and it would be great to look in a mirror and not see the constant reminder of his own actions.

"Are you hungry, brother?" Alphonse asked as Ed plopped himself back on the bed.

"Not really."

"Ed, you didn't eat last night or this morning. It's already past lunch time. You need to eat something."

"It's just the pain medicine making me feel sick…"

"But you haven't had any of that for hours and the doctor said to take smaller doses and you should be fine."

Edward felt his mind go blank. He just wanted to be left alone… To try to sleep without nightmares… But if the nightmares did come, what was he supposed to do?

"Ed?"

Edward jerked with a start as he realized Al was still talking to him.

"I will eat something." As he said it, he felt his stomach begin to cramp up, but he had to try. If not for his own sake, then at least for Al's peace of mind.

During the course of their simple meal of toast and eggs, Alphonse suggested his brother pay the Colonel a visit. Ed felt like he was going to choke on his piece of toast. He took a gulp of water to clear his airway.

"I already visited that bastard yesterday," he protested, but the usual vigor was missing from his tone.

"But he said he wanted to talk to you again and it must have been important for him to stop by like he did… what do you think he wants to talk to you about?"

Edward sat his half eaten toast down on his plate. He wouldn't be finishing it. He carefully studied the condensation on his glass, hopefully appearing casual about the topic.

"Who knows? Probably something to do with my report. He's so damn nitpicky."

"Would you like me to go with you?"

"No!" Ed answered too quickly and too loudly. Alphonse scooted backwards in his chair in surprise. "No," Edward answered more quietly. Damn it, act normal. "You were doing some research weren't you? You said the other day that you found some promising books about the philosopher's stone? I'll go alone. No reason for him to waste both of our times."

Al's gaze went to the stack of books he had on the coffee table. It was true that he had found some interesting material that he would like to follow up on…

"Don't worry about it. I'll go see what he wants and be back in no time."

The few bites of toast he had were threatening to make a comeback. Never had he felt the walk to the Colonel's office was so long and dismal. He hadn't decided what he was going to say yet, how was he going to explain why he had run away from his commanding officer like a scared little kid? He had just been startled, startled by that horrible picture. Who wouldn't be? Who left things like that on the floor anyway?

Ed took a deep breath, hoping it would slow down his racing heart. He just needed to get through this without throwing up on the Colonel's desk. The efforts that he had gone through to steel himself turned out to be pointless. Upon opening the door to the main office, Edward was faced with a room devoid of people. Perhaps they all went to lunch? Ed thought as he studied the empty desks. Curiously, he walked towards the Colonel's inner office and found the door ajar. Without delay, Ed pushed the door the rest of the way open. He thought that someone might be in the office, but was surprised to see Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc collecting papers and putting them into a box he had set on the desk. Havoc jumped when the door opened and dropped his cigarette on the floor. He swore loudly and quickly knelt to pick it up. In his hurry he fumbled some of the papers and they went sliding to the floor.

"Chief, you startled me. I thought you were Lieutenant Hawkeye." Havoc tossed a tense smile in Edward's direction. He motioned to the cigarette in his hands. "I was told not to smoke in here, but I figured everyone else was gone, so it didn't really matter."

Edward just blinked for a moment before he remembered why he was standing in the Colonel's doorway in the first place.

"Mustang said he wanted me to stop by."

"Did he?" Havoc bent to collect more of the papers he had dropped. "He got called away. Then he called everyone else away too. The Colonel told me to collect everything here and deliver it back to Hughes' desk. I suppose I got one of the easier jobs." Havoc grinned more broadly. "It's good to see you're still up and about. I heard you were in the hospital again today."

Edward nodded distractedly and walked over to the desk. He wanted to blame it on just a sense of curiosity, but a bad feeling was beginning to creep into the corners of his mind. He felt a slight tingle of nervousness crawl up his spine and settle in the back of his neck.

Most of the papers had been settled in their container, but a few were still scattered on the desk. A picture of a man with dark hair and dull eyes was looking like it might soon slip from its precarious position on the ledge. Ed slowly picked it up and gave it a cautionary glance over before handing it to Havoc.

"Need any help?" Ed asked in a much more gentle tone than he meant to.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks," He said, but he was giving the boy something of a concerned look. Edward decided to ignore it. He didn't want people looking at him like that.

"What is all this anyway?"

"You don't know? It's for a case that the Colonel is helping Maes Hughes with."

"Kidnappings," Ed remembered. Alphonse had mentioned the Colonel asking about kidnappings at some point. Murders. Why else would there be a picture of a dead child in Mustang's office? Havoc continued placing items in his box and Ed reached to grab a few items that had slipped out of the stack…

Striking light blue eyes that shone through the darkness.

Edward's breath caught in his throat.

What the hell?

Light brown hair… hidden in the shadows of the dense trees.

"Who is this?" Edward had cut Jean off in the middle of saying something. Again, Ed hadn't noticed when someone had started talking to him.

"That? A suspect I guess. I doubt he's one of the victims…"

Edward felt his stomach rebel instantly. The picture was completely forgotten. It could have ended up on the desk or floor or crumpled up in a little ball for all he knew. All Edward knew was that he was going to be sick. Luckily, his legs acted automatically and before he knew it, he was running through familiar hallway corridors. Havoc had most likely called out to him, but he hadn't heard it. How could he hear anything properly with all this damn static noise filling up his head? No, it was more like water. Water filling up his mind and rushing in his ears. His thoughts had drowned in it and now he couldn't breathe right either. He was going to drown in it too.

Through the dark and the murk, one thought did fight its way to the surface…

It is the same.

Death is easier than a wretched life; and better never to have born than to live and fare badly.

-Aeschylus

Ed vomited loudly in the bowl of the toilet. It briefly flitted through his mind that he wasn't sure which bathroom he was in. Not the one closest to the Colonel's office…perhaps the one closer to the cafeteria? His thought process was halted when he retched so hard that his eyes watered, but nothing else was expelled from his stomach. There just wasn't anything left to bring up. In sudden exhaustion, Edward sunk to his knees and let his forehead rest on the edge of the bowl. He didn't have the energy to be disgusted. He didn't have the energy for anything at the moment. He would just close his eyes for a minute and wait for the throbbing in his skull to dissipate. It would fade soon, the pain in his gut, the rawness in his throat, the ache in his chest and the moisture on his face from tears that had slipped out from the corners of his eyes… Just a minute and he would get up and he would stop this downward spiral he found himself in. Just one more minute.

If somebody had asked Colonel Mustang, he would have said he was only organizing files on Hughes' behalf. However, the extent of his involvement had increased dramatically in the past few hours and it now seemed that the Colonel was moving himself, and half of his staff, into his friend's office.

Most of Hughes' staff was out, still taking care of their latest crime scene, and Roy found it easy to convince the new receptionist to allow him and a few others into the main office and hub of investigative research. Maes had a board set up with a map of Central pinned to it. Smaller pins designated locations of interest, mostly places where victims went missing and then found in pieces later. On his desk were stacks and stacks of reports from around Amestris, all containing details of missing child cases. There was evidence that Hughes had been sifting through them, putting them in order of what seemed the most likely to be connected, but a new shipment of reports had arrived while he was out, and his desk had become flooded with documents. It was a paperwork nightmare.

Second Lieutenant Breda and Sergeant Major Fuery were sent out and given the task of collecting intelligence. Roy had some connections in the city and he would like to see if any of them could provide him with any useful information.

Warrant Officer Vato Falman had been given the assignment of creating an organized system for all the old reports. The ones that most closely matched the current kidnappings were given to Hawkeye and she was assisting with their assessment. Mustang found himself pouring over a folded map he had found of Amestris. Hughes had been circling other cities and writing in brief notes. Judging on one penned in sentence; Maes seemed to believe that their killer came from Giyoir, worked his way Northwest to East City and then continued on to Central. However, near the city of Giyoir, Hughes had written: No known connection. So, perhaps, Giyoir wasn't a starting point at all or it just didn't have any connection to the suspects.

After they had already made progress through a stack of files, Havoc arrived with the reports from Mustang's office. Roy was about to tell him to put the files with the organized ones and then assist Falman, when he saw the strange look on Havoc's face, as if the man was trying to decide whether or not to say something.

"Is something wrong, Lieutenant?" Roy asked briskly. Havoc shifted his feet, looking hesitant.

"Well, I'm not really sure… Edward came into your office while I was packing up. The kid seemed kind of off, but before I could really ask him what was wrong, he took off running." Roy narrowed his eyes. So he had run off again.

"Did he seem ill to you?"

"Maybe. Kinda pale and sweating, but... no. If anything, well, I would say he looked terrified." Havoc now had his hands on his hips as he looked genuinely perplexed over the incident.

Mustang clenched his jaw. He needed to put an end to this.

"Do you know where he went?" Roy asked in a clipped tone.

"Well no, I came here right away."

"Find him. He is to report to me here immediately, understood?"

"Yes sir," Havoc seemed momentarily surprised by the urgency, but he agreed to the order quickly.

As Havoc left, Roy turned to see Hawkeye surveying him with a scrutinizing look.

"Sir, do you believe Edward Elric knows something?"

Roy gave it thought for the briefest moment. "Yes, I do. Do you think I'm wrong?"

After all, Hawkeye was the one who kept an eye on everything. She wouldn't let him get too far if she believed he was taking the incorrect path. She shook her head, but a concerned look fluttered across her eyes. "I do not think so, sir. But I believe it might be more complicated than it appears to be."

Roy turned to look at the stacks and stacks of unsorted files.

"It usually is."

After checking Edward's dorm room, Jean Havoc didn't really know where to look. Alphonse didn't know where his brother was and Havoc tried not to worry him, telling him he was sure Ed would turn up. He told the younger brother to send Edward to Maes Hughes' office if he showed up and he tried not to seem too apprehensive about it. Al looked like he was going to worry anyway.

"Brother hasn't been feeling well and he is due for some of his pain medicine."

"Well, I'm sure he will be back soon," Havoc gave the suit of armor a smile and said his goodbyes.

After spending nearly an hour searching the hallways, it was by pure dumb luck that caused Havoc to find Ed. Jean had needed to pee and he quickly ducked into the closest bathroom he could find. Once he was done with his business and was just thinking that he needed a smoke, he thought he heard a raspy breath come from one of the stalls. Thinking it sounded like somebody was crying, he glanced under the stall door to see a familiar bit of red coat.

"Ed?" Havoc asked. The boy was sitting on the floor, but there wasn't much else he could see from his angle. "You alright in there, Chief?"

There was no answer and that scared Havoc a little. It was at that moment that his mind registered the smell of vomit that clung to the air. Clearly, Edward wasn't well. Jean gave the door a push to find it wasn't actually locked. He was slightly relieved, as this meant he wouldn't have to be kicking in any bathroom stall doors. His relief quickly vanished when he saw Ed sitting hunched on the floor with his head resting on the toilet seat's edge. He didn't look like he was planning on moving anytime soon. In fact, he didn't look like he could move.

"Edward?" Havoc questioned cautiously. Ed made no move to indicate that he had heard the man. Havoc leaned over and tried to get a look at his face, but the boy's hair got in the way. Not knowing what else to do, Jean wedged himself against the stall wall and slowly slid down to the floor. He legs bumped Edward's feet as he attempted to twist himself into a comfortable position, but Ed still didn't move. With a calming breath, Havoc very gently placed his hand on Edward's shoulder. He tensed, expecting Ed to jump in surprise, but all Edward did was lethargically turn his head to stare blankly at his sudden companion.

"I threw up."

The statement caught Havoc off guard and he only blinked in response at first.

"Yeah, I can tell... Can I take you to the hospital?"

Ed groaned and shut his eyes. "No, I'm fine."

"I might have to disagree with you. You are currently pressing your face against a toilet there, Chief."

Ed quickly leaned back, but seemed to regret in instantly as he winced in pain. He took in a deep breath to steady himself and Havoc removed his hand from his shoulder. "The Colonel wants to talk to me." It wasn't a question, but a very defeated sounding statement.

"Yes, he does," Havoc confirmed. He struggled to pull a handkerchief from one of his pockets and held it up towards Ed. When the boy made no move to take it, Jean had to clarify. "It's for your face… you have some... bile on your chin."

Embarrassed, Ed took the proffered item and clumsily wiped at his face. He missed the spot completely at first and Jean would have found the situation humorous under other circumstances. In the end, Edward was able to make himself more presentable (Havoc tried to ignore the dried tear tracks that had marked his face).

"Do you think you can stand?" Havoc asked, glancing at Edward's unmoving legs. No longer cleaning his face, Ed let his hand drop to the side and he stared into space. He was about to repeat his question, when Ed gave a slow nod.

"Yes…" the boy whispered, "But… just give me one more minute. I just need…" But Ed trailed off. Havoc nodded though and shifted so that his shoulder nearly pressed against Edward's. He didn't want to lean on the kid (he wasn't sure on the locations of his stitched lacerations), but he wanted to be there. He wanted to be as comforting as somebody who was about to make you report to your commanding officer could possibly be.

While listening to Edward breathe somewhat unevenly, Havoc sat by his side long after both of his legs had fallen asleep.

This was beginning to feel like one of the longest days in history, and yet the sun hadn't even set yet when Hughes returned to find his office overrun with over helpful staff that was not his. Overrun was an exaggeration, but still… none of these people in his office currently worked in his department.

"Roy, what are you doing?" He asked his friend, who looked like he just belonged there beside his desk.

"You were busy and you missed the latest shipment of files. Just getting it set up for you," Roy motioned to the investigation board and then to the files on his desk, organized into several neat stacks.

"I appreciate the help, but you didn't have to do that. I know you have other work that needs to be done," Hughes gave his friend a tired smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Trust me, we were very efficient. We've just about finished. Falman and Hawkeye were just about to leave, in fact. I will be on my way as soon as I explain the file system Falman has organized."

"Great," Maes sounded like he would rather collapse on the floor right there then have to deal with this investigation a moment longer. He nodded an exhausted farewell as Falman and Hawkeye made their way out.

"Also, I wanted to ask you a question about some of your notes," Roy continued.

"Which ones?"

"If you think the killer came from Giyoir, why did you write that there was no connection? Surely there must have been some connection. Why would you think so otherwise?" Roy held up the map he had been studying earlier. Hughes sighed and took the map from his friend to look over his own writing.

"Giyoir was the oldest case I found from five years ago that matched. But Brian Ford has no connection to that city and as far as I can tell he was on the other side of the country at that time."

"You thought Brian Ford was your main suspect."

"He seemed likely."

"But if that case is connected to this case then it is not him."

"No, it's not," Hughes glanced at Roy wearily. He really did appreciate the help, but he didn't like being reminded that one of his main leads was, most likely, a dead end.

"Also, the Giyoir kidnapping isn't your oldest case any longer."

"What did you find?"

"Five months prior to that, a young boy was taken from his yard in Kaumafy and three months prior to that, a child went missing in Pleonuk. Both cases are similar to the kidnappings in Central. The only difference is that, for some reason, the killer is staying here longer than he has anywhere." Roy walked forward and motioned to the Map in his friend's hands. "But do you see? He's moving up and down the damn rivers of the country, Maes. He follows the water."

"There are no rivers that go near Giyoir though."

"Not drawn in on the maps, but there are streams and manmade canals in that area. Some of them must link up to the larger rivers eventually."

Maes looked over at his pinned up map in sudden realization. "He could have arrived from the river that borders Central to the north then... I'm going to get some men on that sector. Maybe he stays near the water. If we can find where he takes them, maybe we can find the Adalbert girl alive."

Roy hesitated then, he didn't believe that the children were kept alive for very long once they were taken, but if Maes wanted to believe they could find four year old Milly Adalbert still in one piece, he wasn't going to say anything to extinguish that hope.

There was a cough in the doorway and both men turned to see Havoc standing with a slightly wide-eyed Edward.

"Ah, feeling better, Fullmetal?" Roy asked in a cold tone.

Ed didn't actually respond to that, but he did give a slight glare.

"Anything you'd care to add?" Roy fixed him with a stern stare and crossed his arms over his chest. Ed's eyes shifted uncomfortably to the map pinned up behind Roy.

"Who's Adalbert?" Edward asked instead, but his voice sounded rough, as if he was beginning to lose it.

"A girl that's been recently kidnapped." Mustang watched Edward closely. The boy's eyes were shifting quickly around the room, but he seemed to not be interested in taking one more step inside. The threat that he could bolt at any moment was obvious and Havoc had placed himself firmly behind him, he seemed concerned that Edward would try to run again too.

"Roy…" Maes seemed uncomfortable; he didn't want Edward involved in this in the first place and Roy knew that. But he hadn't seen the way Ed looked at that picture in Roy's office.

"Hughes," Roy snapped back, "he knows something." Roy turned his glare back to the boy who was now staring resolutely at the floor.

"I don't know anything about Adal… Adalbert or any of them. I don't."

"Care to tell me why you keep running away then?"

"I'm not running. I-I'm sick!" Edward's voice cracked at this, but he was back to glaring daggers at the Colonel and just like that, Mustang had had enough with this game.

"You're not sick, you're scared!" Roy shouted. He had lost his patience and he was pissed. Edward never acted scared of anything and now he was obviously terrified and he was hiding something and he was lying! Colonel Mustang had been working hard putting the threads together for this investigation and now this child was keeping something from him. Couldn't he see the damage it was causing? The strain it was putting on all of them? On Hughes?

Maes said something, probably telling Roy to stop yelling in his office. Edward wasn't able to keep eye contact and his gaze has shifted to somewhere over Roy's shoulder.

"I'm just coming down with something that's all, Mustang." Roy detected a note of pleading in his voice that wasn't there before, but he would not be dissuaded.

"Fullmetal," Roy pitched his voice lower now, "if you know anything about this, you will tell me right now."

"Roy, don't." But Maes was ignored.

"You are impeding an investigation. Do you understand what that means?" Roy continued when Ed made no response. Edward blinked hard for a moment.

"I don't know anything," he said with resolution.

"Damn it, Fullmetal."

"Roy, leave."

With barely concealed surprise Roy turned to Maes to find him looking incredibly serious. His face softened for a moment when he caught Roy's eye, but then it became tense again.

"Colonel Mustang, I would like you and your staff to leave my office. I would also like your permission to interview your subordinate in private… please. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but this isn't your investigation."

Roy surveyed him for a moment. Hughes was right; he had overstepped a line with this.

"Fine," he answered curtly.

"Thank you," Hughes murmured, looking more exhausted than before. Mustang nodded before turning back to his subordinate.

"Fullmetal, when you are done here, go back to your dorm and stay there. Report to me tomorrow morning, understood?"

"Yes," Ed answered tersely. With that the Colonel moved briskly past him to the open door.

"Good luck," Havoc muttered quietly to Edward before taking his leave and shutting the door behind him. Ed didn't respond, but he took a deep breath to prepare himself.

Hughes studied Ed for a moment before moving behind his desk and resignedly sitting down.

"Please sit down, Ed." Hughes motioned to the chair on the other side. Edward worked his jaw for a moment before cautiously moving forward and sitting on the very edge of the chair.

"How's your arm?" Hughes asked suddenly. Ed blinked in surprise. This wasn't the conversation he thought he was going to be having.

"I didn't get to visit you in the hospital, how's the arm feeling?" Maes clarified, when Edward didn't respond.

"Fine… were you… there?" Ed asked quizzically.

"When it happened? Only towards the end. You weren't entirely conscious at that point. I'm not surprised you don't remember." He had been in the area and had come running when he heard there had been an accident in the hallway and that a medical team had been called. He had knelt there with Roy, trying to help keep pressure on Edward's bleeding arm. He hadn't been able to get Edward's blood out of his slacks… he was pretty sure Roy hadn't been able to save his own jacket either… though maybe there was an alchemy trick for removing bloodstains. Maes would have to ask Roy sometime.

"I think I do remember hearing you," Edward said quietly. Hughes nodded at this.

"I'm glad you're on the mend."

Edward nodded, but didn't say anything again. Maes leaned forward slowly, resting his elbows on his desk.

"Edward… Colonel Mustang believes you know something. Do you know why?" The subject change didn't seem to surprise Ed, in fact he had been trying to prepare for the questions he knew were coming.

"I got sick and had to leave his office yesterday," he answered flatly. Hughes studied him for another moment and Ed shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Why would that cause him to believe you knew something about this case?"

"I… saw a picture…" Ed stared hard at his hands in his lap.

"You reacted to it."

"Anyone would have!" Ed protested loudly. Hughes sat back, some concern showing on his face. Roy was right, something was wrong here. The boy was pale with deep circles under his eyes and there was a tenseness in his posture that Maes hadn't seen before. After a moment, he took a deep breath and replied.

"I know your life hasn't been… easy. I know there are things you don't talk about, but if it's something important… something that would help me find the two victims that are missing or if it's something that is hurting you, please tell someone. It doesn't even have to be me or Colonel Mustang. Just tell somebody. Can you do that?"

Edward wanted to so badly to say yes, but this felt like a promise and Ed didn't think it was one he could keep. He swallowed hard, feeling a pang of guilt wash over him.

"I… I will take care of it."

"Thank you, Ed."

Edward slept fitfully that night. No matter what, he couldn't seem to get his mind or body to relax. He had taken the reduced amount of painkillers, but his stomach was in knots and he felt the nausea building still. The worst part was that Alphonse knew something was wrong and Ed knew he was awake worrying about him all night.

Sometimes he would awaken to hear Al say, "It's alright, brother. Go back to sleep." Then he would drift off, only to wake again moments later.

It was the middle of the night when Edward sat up straight out of bed, gasping for breath. "You're alright, brother," Al quickly supplied. Ed clutched the blanket tightly in his fists and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the dizziness to pass.

"I was falling," Edward stated quietly, still not entirely awake.

"You were dreaming. Go back to sleep," Al answered softly.

Ed fell back against the mattress, but instead of letting his eyes close, he stared into the darkness around him.

"Al?" Ed asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Ed?"

"Do you… do you remember the Barringer family?"

"Barringer? From Risembool? They moved away didn't they?"

"…Yes."

There was a moment of quiet as Al sorted through memories.

"You used to fight with the younger brother a lot… There was an accident or something wasn't there? Didn't he drown?" The memory was fuzzy, but it was still there. Mostly he remembered hushed voices and some people crying…

"Something like that," Ed responded softly.

Ed knew that Al had been younger than him and the adults wouldn't have said much around him. Also, he wasn't good at sneaking around to catch the adult's conversations either. He probably only heard that Kaleb was found in the creek.

"Why do you ask?" Al asked curiously.

"No reason," Ed turned on his side away from his brother to face the wall. It would be several minutes before sleep found him again.

The next time he awoke, the sun was shining and Al had made him toast again. Ed ate one piece of toast without complaint, but then said he wasn't hungry for the rest of it. Al made a discontent noise at that, but Edward cut him off before he could say anything.

"I have to report to the Colonel," Ed reminded him. Al sighed at that.

"I still don't know why he wants to talk to you again."

"I told you, he was too busy yesterday to talk to me." If Edward had thought about it, he would have realized that Al knew he was lying and was only allowing his older brother get away with it for now. "I'll be back later, Al. Don't worry about me."

And with that, Edward was out the door.

The river that bordered northern Central was quite large and Edward had never had a previous reason to visit it. There were only a few buildings that sat near the water's edge and there weren't many people out and about that morning. Ed walked away quickly from the little homes and fisher's huts, heading north toward the tree line that bordered the river. It wouldn't take long for someone to realize that he was missing and Edward wanted to get this situation resolved as quickly as possible, before he was found out. He didn't have a plan exactly and, if nothing came of this, he was going to be faced with quite the lecture… and possibly worst punishments if this was taken as an act of insubordination. He was ignoring a direct order to report in to his commanding officer, after all.

Edward walked through the forest, always keeping the sound of the river within earshot. It was darker under the cover of the trees and he kept nearly tripping over hidden tree roots. Still, Edward barreled through the brush, not noticing the noise he made as he determinedly looked for… something… anything. It had been a gut feeling that had driven him out here. He had felt it yesterday the moment he heard Mustang say that the kidnapper was using the rivers. Of course he was… he must have always had.

Ed stopped and doubled over with his hands on his knees. He wasn't sure how long he had been walking. Not very long, surely? Lately, he felt like time was moving forward in leaps and bounds while he was getting left behind somewhere.

Why was it so damn hard to breathe all of a sudden? He quickly wiped his sweat away on his sleeve and that's when he saw it. The small tree in front of him had broken branches and a few bloodied leaves on one side. The little air in Ed's lungs left in an instant. Could be left from an injured animal, he reasoned. It didn't look new, maybe a few days old. Edward cast his eyes to the ground. He brushed away some of the freshly fallen leaves from the earth and that's when he saw the indentation in the mud. It was a definite boot print. He cast his eyes around and saw other disturbances in the foliage surrounding him. A broken branch here and a recently disturbed stone there…

With much more caution, Edward proceeded through the trees, casting his eyes wearily around him. He was trying to listen, but the forest seemed to have gone quiet. How long had it been silent? When had he last heard a bird chirp or any other animal rustle in the brush? But then how could he hear anything over the rushing of the river? It was so damn loud now; filling his ears and his head with gushing water. He knew he was drawing breath, but he couldn't hear the air moving or feel it expanding his lungs. He was stepping on twigs and it occurred to him then that he was making too much noise, but it all seemed muted somehow; overtaken by the loudness of the water drowning his brain.

So overcome by the noise, he noticed too late that the sun wasn't filtering through the trees like it should have been. A darkness loomed over him and the sudden dimness was the last thing Ed noticed before the woods were filled with the sound of a sharp crack and Edward fell to the ground, unconscious to the world.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!"

― Lewis Carroll

Hughes had awoken with a start that morning. He knew he had been dreaming of the case, but the details slipped away as soon as his eyes opened. He then realized he had overslept and quickly began getting ready for work. He tried to push the terrible feeling aside and carry on as he normally did, but something was eating at the back of his mind. There was something important, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. The feeling stayed with him while he got ready for the day, ate breakfast and kissed his family goodbye. He felt as though he had forgotten something and it filled him with a deep sense of dread.

He was so distracted, that when he arrived at work, he didn't even hear it when his receptionist told him that he had already missed two phone calls from one Colonel Mustang. Still with this feeling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, he called his friend, but it took him a moment to focus on the conversation. Roy was telling him something about contacting Edward early this morning and Maes quickly tuned into the meaning of his friend's words.

"What did you just say, Roy?" He felt like something had misfired in his brain. This didn't sit right at all.

"Fullmetal isn't in his dorm and his brother has informed me that he left to report to me nearly an hour ago."

"Where is he?" Maes asked, even as his gut seemed to turn in slow dawning realization. There was a heavy pause as Roy switched the phone from one hand to the other.

"I thought he might be with you."

Maes glanced around the room as if Ed would materialize in front of him. "He's not here."

Roy swore loudly under his breath and Maes thought he could hear Hawkeye saying something in the background.

"Have you looked for him? Maybe he stopped by the library on his way to you?"

"Havoc is out looking for him now; he's already checked the library."

"Roy, where would he go?" He couldn't hide the despondency in his own voice. He didn't hear Roy's response because the words came back to him then that he had been dreaming about.

"I will take care of it."

"What?" Roy asked, clearly confused by the statement.

"He told me 'I will take care of it.' Damnit, he said that and I thanked him!" Hughes stood up from his seat and began agitatedly stacking errant papers into a pile, as if he would find something useful there that would help him or prove him wrong.

"What are you talking about?" Roy asked, forcing a calmness in his tone that he didn't actually feel.

"Edward. I thought he was agreeing to talk to somebody about what was going on, but he said 'I will take care of it.' He was- Roy he overheard us talking about the river to the North." Maes gestured to the map pinned to his wall, even though his friend couldn't see him.

"He went after the kidnapper himself." Everything clicked into place.

Hughes shoved his stack of useless paperwork to the side. "I will get some men together for a search party and I will meet you in your office as soon as I can. Maybe we can find him before he gets himself into trouble." Before he ends up in pieces.

"We will be ready to go as soon as you get here," Roy hung up without another word. Maes hung up the phone and took a deep breath. He needed to stay calm. Panicking now wouldn't help. If he lost it now, he wouldn't be able to save anyone. He would fail Edward just as he had failed all of the other children and he didn't know if he could live with himself if he let that happen.

The first thing Ed was aware of was that he couldn't draw breath properly through his mouth. The second thing was the pain. He couldn't pinpoint its source, as it was really a more of an all over kind of hurt. The third thing he noticed, and the realization was what finally jolted him into full consciousness, was the fact that he was missing his red coat, shirt and boots. He felt the slightest sense of relief to still have his trousers on, but it was short lived when his eyes adjusted to the dark around him and he was able to take in his situation.

He was in some sort of large wooden shed with no windows. Going by the few dusty pelts nailed to the wall, it seemed to be an abandoned hunter's shack. The floor under his bare foot was dirt and the only furniture was a large wooden table to his right and the chair he was currently tied to. Several strips of cloth had been tied together to form a sort of rope and his legs were bound with numerous overlapping pieces to the legs of the chair. His arms were tied behind his back in a position that wrenched both of his shoulders uncomfortably.

He then realized that the reason he couldn't take a deep breath was because he had a gag tied tightly around his head that pulled the corners of his mouth back painfully. The cloth between his teeth tasted sour and, as his tongue pushed against it, he could make out the metallic taste of blood. He didn't know if the blood was his or if it had been on the cloth before it was used as a gag. At this thought, his stomach turned and he became aware of the throbbing pain in his head. He felt like there was something sticking his hair to his face and he wondered if it was drying blood from a head wound.

Other pains began to make themselves known and Edward realized that the red he was seeing in his peripheral vision was blood streaming down his left arm. His stitches were gone, cut or ripped out forcefully, he couldn't tell through all the bright crimson.

Panic set in and Edward knew he had to free himself. He began to struggle, surely his automail limbs could break through rope made from strips of cloth? But as he began to move he felt that something was wrong with his automail leg. Ed blinked hard and realized he could see bits of metal and wire sticking out from slashes made in the material of his trousers. Someone had started to destroy his automail around the knee and it had more or less done the trick. He felt he could move it, but he couldn't get any strength behind the action. No.

Edward shifted his gaze to his automail arm. It looked like it had been in a fight without his knowledge, pieces of it were missing and the port was hurting him, as if someone had tried to yank out his arm without knowing what they were doing. Ed's struggling increased as fear began to overtake him. He needed his arms free, he needed to transmute… if he could free his arms… Yes, his automail arm was damaged, but he could move it, if he just put in enough effort he could pull on the cloth enough to loosen it and get his hands free-

A strong pair of hands wrapped around his neck from behind. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could he not realize that he wasn't alone? How did he miss the sounds of someone else breathing right behind him? How did he not feel their eyes watching his every move?

The grip tightened for a moment and Edward froze in terror. As soon as he stopped moving the grasping hands vanished and Ed breathed air in greedily through his nose. The shadows to his right shifted as a man came into view. He was dressed plainly in brown slacks and a loose fitting shirt. Ed took note that he didn't look as filthy as the last time he had seen him. His light brown hair had grown out, nearly hiding his eyes, which were still a sharp blue that lit up the dark.

The man pressed one finger to his lips, signaling Edward to be quiet. Ed stopped breathing. He placed his hands on either side of the boy's face and roughly held him still. Ed's reaction was to jerk his face out of the man's grasp, but the man's fingers dug into his skin and the back of the chair restricted Ed from moving backward. The man stared into his eyes for a long moment and Ed was finally able to shake his terror long enough to glare back. He wanted this man to stop touching him. He wanted to break his fingers so he couldn't touch anything ever again.

The man's eyes widened and he let out a sudden bark of laughter. Ed jumped in surprise, but really couldn't move far at all.

"Ed," the man said in a hoarse whisper. "I know you… I remembered you… I looked for you." He finally released his grip on Edward's face and stood up tall with a wild grin on his face.

"I wasn't sure it was you. You've changed, but I remember… you looked at me just like that… I looked for those eyes for so long… so many… Now I found you again."

Ed made a noise in his throat in response, but all sound was muffled by the cloth gag. He began carefully turning his wrists back and forth behind his back. If he could just get them loose…

The grin slipped from the man's face and he tilted his head to one side as if listening to something far away.

"This won't work. Won't work." The man reached for Ed's face again and Edward tried to move away, but he was caught forcefully and his head spun as he felt pressure put on the painful spot where he must have been struck before and knocked out. Ed shut his eyes against the throbbing pain and tried to keep his watering eyes from spilling over in tears. Suddenly, the gag was being removed and Ed was able to take in a breath, coughing on the sudden influx of oxygen. He glared at the man, but didn't feel like he was able to take in enough air to actually speak. He worked his jaw, trying to get rid of the soreness there. A sharp twinge made him realize that the cut on his cheek had been opened again. He couldn't tell for sure, but he assumed the stitches there were gone as well and the dampness he was suddenly aware of was fresh blood seeping from the wound.

The man had turned away from him. He stood at the large wooden table, sorting through something Edward couldn't see. From the sound of metal hitting the tabletop, Ed thought he must have some sort of tools there.

"My name is Warren. I never told you before. Didn't tell you before. You ran away before." Warren turned to face Ed again. He had a large hunting knife in one hand that he motioned with casually. "My little golden boy that ran away," he said wistfully and he seemed lost for a moment, staring off into space. He shuddered and looked at Edward again and then started moving resolutely forward, the knife glinting in his hand.

"I'm not your little anything," Ed bit out. The return of his voice surprised the both of them. There was only a moment of hesitation before Warren struck Edward across the face, causing the boy to see stars. He felt a hand grab his braid and pull hard to the side. As soon as his shock wore off, Ed began to struggle, but then the tugging on his hair worsened. Before Ed knew what had happened, the pulling stopped. His head jerked forward sharply from being suddenly released. No, released wasn't right. Golden strands fell forward in Edward's face and he realized his braid had just been crudely cut off. Ed took too long to take that thought in and then the hand was back, grabbing at clumps of hair on the side of his head. He saw the knife flash out of the corner of his eye and attempted to pull away from its gleam. Edward could hear the knife cutting through his hair by his ear and he squirmed desperately.

"Get away from me!" Ed finally shouted. But his voice didn't sound nearly as forceful as he meant it to. To his dismay, he sounded like a scared child on the verge of tears. Surprisingly, Warren stopped and turned away from him. He walked back over to his wooden table and was placing Edward's hacked off locks down with a kind of reverence. After studying them for a moment, he turned back towards the boy and began to raise the knife again.

"A-Adalbert," Ed rasped loudly. Warren stopped and looked at Ed quizzically. "Adalbert was a little girl you took. Wh-where is she?" Edward needed to stall. He hadn't made much progress with the cloth tied around his wrists.

"The little one." Warren said quietly. "She's a ways from here. I'll have you together soon."

"Where?" Ed demanded, eyeing the knife that had started to be lifted up again.

A grin spread across Warren's face and he studied Edward for a moment. He carefully knelt in front of Ed and placed one hand on the boy's flesh knee. The knife was then slowly brought up and the tip of the blade was set a few inches above Edward's belly button. The boy held his breath and went incredibly still. One wrong move and he could end up with his organs spilled out in front of him. Without even realizing, his wrists stopped twisting in his attempt for freedom.

"Central Command Headquarters," the blade cut into Ed's soft flesh just enough to carve out an 'X' in his skin. "Central City," the blade made a larger circle around the X. "The river," a line was cut above the upper right of the circle. "Across the river," another line was drawn away from the rest, trailing up to over Edward's heart. Blood was dripping down his stomach now and Ed made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. "In a cave, behind the waterfalls," several short slashes were made. "She sleeps there," another 'X' was cut into his flesh, this one much bigger than the first. Warren grabbed Edward's torso on either side as he studied his work. "Where should I leave this for them? They will want to know where she is."

Warren took one hand and trailed it over the cuts he had made, smearing the blood down Edward's chest and stomach. He stood quickly after that and turned back to his table. Once the knife wasn't pressed against him, Ed took a shuddering breath and began to loosen the cloth bindings again. His flesh wrist complained as it was rubbed raw from the movement, but his automail arm couldn't feel the pain and he twisted it as desperately as he could.

Warren picked up the cloth gag that had been discarded on the table. He gave it a twist and came at Edward with it again. Ed's struggling increased.

"Get away from me!" Edward threw his upper body to the side as far as he could.

Warren calmly shushed him as he took the few steps forward and went to tie the gag around his head again. Edward resisted, twisting himself the other way.

"Don't touch me! Don't you dare touch me!"

Warren stomped on his bare flesh toes and ground them into the dirt floor. Ed let out an involuntary yell, which gave his captor the opportunity to shove the dirty cloth back in his mouth and quickly tie it behind his head again. It was in that moment, that he felt a sharp intense pain in his flesh wrist. His automail arm had slid further in the loosened bindings and Edward assumed a broken metal piece had just pierced his skin. Ignoring the pain, it only registered that he could pull his arms free. He pulled his automail arm forward, but it wasn't moving as well as it should have and it got snagged up on a bit of the cloth. Warren had turned his back again as he picked up the knife from the table. Ed could still see its glint, though it was dulled by his own blood marring the surface. Warren took a step forward, his eyes widened as he realized Ed had nearly pulled one arm free. His face turned ugly. He gripped the knife tightly and lunged towards Edward. Without thought, Ed yanked both of his arms out from behind him, the sound of fabric ripping soon drowned out by the sound of Edward slapping his hands together and throwing himself forward onto the ground. The chair was still tied to his legs and it tipped over on top of him as he slammed both hands to the dirt and transmuted without thinking.

There Edward froze, his face pressed into the dirt and mind going strikingly blank. He breathed in and then out through his nose. He moved his arm slightly in an attempt to remove the gag from his mouth, but his automail wouldn't cooperate, the fingers weren't working right at all. He felt something wet hit his face and Edward twisted his head to look above him.

He really hadn't thought it through, he had only reacted and his hasty, defensive transmutation consisted of several spikes that protruded sharply from the ground. He was lying at the base of one of the larger ones and directly above him was the slack face of his captor, eyes still open, blood beginning to steadily pour from his mouth. One of the spikes had caught him directly in the chest and Ed imagined it went all the way through. Some of the blood fell from his gaping mouth and splattered into Edward's eyes.

Edward began screaming.

Though with the gag in place, he didn't make much noise. It was a sort of agonized, muffled keening that escaped him. He desperately attempted to push himself up, but neither of his arms were working. He turned his head in the dirt to look at his other side, at the flesh arm that was betraying him. There was blood there and it looked like too much. Ed felt bile rise in his throat, but knew that if he was sick now, he would only choke on his own vomit as he had no way of expelling it from around the gag.

His legs were still tightly bound and he felt like he was pinned by the back of the chair pressing into his shoulders and there was so much pain now, as if he was the one that had been impaled in the chest. He felt his vision start to darken, he couldn't draw enough breath and there was so much blood everywhere and he wasn't sure who it all belonged to anymore. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. Blood dripped on his cheek and near his nostrils. It was too much. He was going to drown in it.

…

…

Somebody was calling him. The thought drifted through Edward's hazy mind. He couldn't focus on it though, all of his thoughts seemed to flit by him and he wasn't able to hold on to any of them. He let them all go. It was better to be in the darkness than to have to concentrate and feel more pain.

When the door was kicked down to the rundown little shack, Roy didn't know what he was expecting to see. There had been signs of a struggle not far from there and then a trail of something being dragged to this dilapidated building in the middle of the forest. He had forced his way in when nobody answered his calls. His worry had been that this was some hunter's cabin and the drag marks were merely from some animal he had recently killed. But Roy found he didn't much care if he was breaking into an innocent person's home, the whole thing didn't sit well with him and perhaps it was some sort of instinct that told him this was the place and he had better be ready for a fight.

He had entered with his gloves on and ready, but it had taken a moment for his eyes to adjust and once they did, he couldn't wrap his mind around what he was seeing. There was a man impaled through the chest by a spike in the middle of the room. Other spikes protruded from the ground and had caught him in other places, causing the man to hang there like a puppet with his strings cut. Directly beneath the man's lifeless face was his subordinate, crumpled on the floor with a chair tipped over on top of him.

Hughes had reacted first. He had not left Roy's side while they searched the woods, even though they probably could have covered more ground if they had split apart. Maes had sworn loudly and pushed past Roy to kneel by Edward's left side. His hand went to the boy's neck as he felt for a pulse and Roy felt a cold swell of fear when Hughes didn't report anything right away. There was a dangerous moment when Roy felt like he would torch the whole forest if he was too late and the boy was dead.

"He's alive, Roy." Maes looked up with relief clearly in his eyes. With those words, Mustang came back to himself and entered the room in a rush. He knelt by Edward's other side to take stock of his injuries. Hughes quickly began to cut away the bindings that held the boy's legs to the chair. Roy glared at the cloth that was tied tightly around his head as a gag. He began to untie it, but there was blood there matted in his hair and Roy moved slower than he wanted to, worrying that he would make his head injury worse. Once his legs were free, Hughes tossed the chair to the other side of the room in disgust.

"His braid is gone," Maes stated dully as he helped to pull the cloth away from Edward's mouth.

"Yes," Roy answered through clenched teeth. "Fullmetal, can you hear me?" Roy called leaning to get a better look at Edward's face. Ed's eyes were partially opened, but he just stared into space, not showing any sign that he heard them or was even aware of them.

"Fullmetal! Can you hear me?"

"Roy… his arm is bleeding badly." Hughes had begun to put pressure on the wound, but it was too much and he didn't have any medical supplies with him.

"Not all of this blood is his. Edward! Can you hear me?"

The light from the door was suddenly blocked and Roy turned to see Havoc and Fuery standing in the doorway.

"Shit," Havoc swore at the sight before him.

"Fuery, tell the others we've found him and get the medical team here. Havoc, find Alphonse."

They had medics standing by, but they were hoping that they wouldn't need to call them from their position at the edge of the forest. Alphonse had been included in the search for Ed and he had quickly separated from the adults in the group, moving deeper and more quickly into the forest than most of them had gone. Both men responded with a "Yes sir!" and departed rapidly back through the trees.

Hughes had started to use the strips of cloth that had tied Ed to the chair to bind up the boy's arm.

"Roy, this isn't rope."

"I can see that."

"No, you don't see it." Hughes stopped his work and caught Roy's eye. "It's cloth. Bits of cloth ripped up. It's from the clothes of the other victims." And Hughes looked like something had broken inside him. Of course Hughes would recognize it for what it was. He had been tirelessly going over reports for days that described what the children had been last seen wearing. Roy tried to ignore the cheerful flower pattern that decorated the gag he had pulled from Edward's mouth.

"I'm moving him," Roy stated suddenly.

"You don't know if it's safe to. He could have internal injuries…"

"I don't care! I'm not letting him stay here in a pool of this bastard's blood. I'll carry him to the medical team myself. Help me turn him over."

Against his better judgement, Hughes and Mustang gently rolled Edward onto his side and then onto his back.

"What the hell is that?" Roy asked angrily. There was blood smeared all over the boy's front, but it looked like there was some kind of pattern to it. Roy placed a gloved hand over one of the deeper cuts, but was startled when Edward emitted a sharp gasp and tried to get away from the touch. The boy flailed his arms weakly, but neither made it far off the floor.

"Ed, relax! It's me! It's Hughes and Mustang!" Maes set his arm across the boy's chest, trying to keep him from moving and injuring himself further. Edward stopped moving abruptly and recognition shown in his dull eyes.

"Hu-Hughes?" Ed asked quietly and tears began to spring up in the corners of his eyes.

"Yeah, Ed. You're going to be all right," Maes looked up at Roy with concern and that's when it dawned on Mustang that he was trying to block Edward's line of sight from the impaled man hanging over the both of them.

Mustang began to remove his military jacket and he nodded at Hughes to let him know he understood. He placed his jacket over his subordinate's bleeding torso and carefully tucked it around his shoulders. Ed started to struggle at the feeling of being confined again.

"It's just my jacket, Ed. I'm going to carry you and you'll want something once we get outside."

"I want my coat…" Edward said brokenly and the tears spilled down his face, leaving tracks in the drying blood. Roy gave a quick glance around the room, but didn't see any of Edward's clothes.

"We'll get your coat later," Maes lied helpfully. "The Colonel's going to pick you up now."

Edward didn't respond to this, but he began to shake as the tears started to overwhelm him. Roy slipped one arm behind the boy's back and the other under his knees. Ed cringed at the movement, but didn't cry out in pain. Roy stood as quickly as he could with his injured burden.

"Let's get the hell out of this place," Roy mumbled and Hughes nodded, but cast a look at the corpse decorating the room.

"I'm going to have to get a team out here," he muttered as he followed Mustang out the door.

"He's dead Hughes. He's not going anywhere," Roy said in a hollow sounding tone.

As they moved through the trees, Maes kept one hand on Mustang's elbow, supporting him as he moved through the more difficult brush and reminding him constantly that he was there by his side.

Nobody said anything about Edward's quiet sobbing, but Roy held him more tightly than he needed to, as if he could hold the boy together by sheer force of will.

"It will be alright," Hughes said in a hushed voice.

Mustang couldn't tell who he was talking to or who he was trying to convince.

"Yes," Roy answered.

"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets."

-Paul Tournier

Edward had known that the next time he woke up he would be in the hospital again. He didn't even really care, he just let it all slip away from him, surrendering to the throbbing in his skull and the exhaustion that swept over him.

He had started to wake up a number of times, but he kept dritfing back to unconsciousness. He heard them talking about him. He heard the Doctor and nurses assessing him and the bastard Colonel asking questions. He heard Alphonse speaking worriedly over him and he heard Lieutenant Colonel Hughes speaking in a tone he hadn't heard from him before… he sounded so… remorseful.

Edward's gut twisted upon hearing that tone, his own guilt bubbling up to the surface. He must have made a noise in his light sleep, because the voices stopped talking and a familiar gauntlet hand rested gently on his brow.

"It's alright, brother. Go back to sleep." Alphonse, sounding so calm and reassuring… He didn't deserve that kindness, but he found that he still craved it. Selfishly, he listened to his younger brother and let himself fall back into a deeper sleep.

The next time he awoke, it was because the absence of noise in the room had bothered him. The only sound he could hear was the soft rustling of papers and Ed had no idea who was with him. It didn't feel like Al was in the room. He slowly opened his eyes and stared blankly at the dull, white ceiling, before carefully turning his head to see Maes Hughes sitting diligently by his bed side with a stack of paperwork in his lap. He was going through documents, shifting them slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Ed meant to say the man's name, but all that came out was a breath of air. Startled by the gasping sound, Hughes looked up and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Ed," he spoke in a whispered tone, as if speaking loudly would startle Edward back into unconsciousness. The man then went for a cup of water at the bedside and carefully helped Ed lean forward enough to take a few tiny sips.

"They had a hell of a time putting in your IV," Hughes said conversationally in the same quiet tone. Finished drinking the bit of water, the boy looked at his left arm, but quickly looked away. It was a mess of bandages and he really didn't need to think about the needle inserted in the top of his hand. It was then that Ed noticed he wasn't wearing the terrible hospital issued shirt. His chest and abdomen were wrapped in bandages and the shirt had been forgone so that the medical staff could have easier access to his injuries. A thin, hospital blanket hid his feet from view, but he began to feel some pain throbbing from his right foot.

He suddenly remembered something important that he had forgotten. Both of his arms felt so heavy, but he managed to move his flesh arm enough to weakly claw at the wrappings around his chest. The pain over his heart made itself known, but Ed pushed it to the side and caught the edge of one of the bandages and began to pull.

"Whoa, easy. What are you doing?" Hughes moved to stop him, but seemed hesitant to touch him, as if he was afraid he might accidentally hurt him.

"A-Adalbert," Ed rasped. It was important, but Hughes didn't understand. The man furrowed his brow at him and tilted his head to one side.

"Did you find her?" Ed tugged at the bandage's edge. "It's a... It's a map."

"What do you mean? Edward, stop." Hughes very gently tapped the boy's fingers. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"He told me she was sleeping. I know she's dead, but you could still find her… for her family…"

"Edward, enough. Take a breath," Hughes leaned back in his chair again and picked up his stack of documents he had put to the side. "I have seen the cuts. I don't need to see them again." He didn't want to think about it. It made him want to be sick. If it was a map, it was very crudely done and it wouldn't do any good to peel back the bandages and see the stitched mess that was Edward's chest and stomach. He needed to put that information aside. His mind would go over it later, when he was alone and it didn't matter that the idea was going to break his heart. "Don't worry about that right now."

Thankfully, Ed stopped his tugging and let his arm fall to his side again.

"Where's Al?" Ed asked. "He was here." But now that Ed said it, he thought that maybe he was dreaming before. Maybe his brother hadn't been sitting with him at all. Maybe Alphonse was angry with him for lying and running off on his own.

"Colonel Mustang has taken him to the library. They are picking up some books for you both to ease your boredom while you stay here."

There was something odd about the Colonel taking Alphonse to visit the library. It just sounded so…normal. Like something a family would do on a Saturday afternoon.

"Really?" Ed found himself asking. Maes grinned slightly.

"I thought it would be good for both of them to go for a walk. I know Alphonse doesn't want to leave your side for long, but Colonel Mustang needed the air. You've only been out of it for a day, but the Colonel hasn't left your side. He slept in this chair overnight and he's been very irritable."

"I ruined another one of his jackets didn't I? He must be pissed," Ed let his eyes fall shut. Everything felt so damn heavy, like his body was being weighted down.

"He is mad, but not about the jacket. I know he doesn't care about that." Hughes leaned forward and Ed opened his eyes again, wary over the closer proximity. "But sometimes you scare him, Ed. That's why he gets so angry, because you scare the shit out of him with the things you do and when he can't protect you no matter how much he tries."

Ed made a nearly indiscernible noise in his throat. "Not his fault," he finally mumbled and he shifted uncomfortably, there was really quite a bit of pain now. The muscles and skin around his arm port felt like they kept spasming and Ed wondered just how bad the damage was.

"Oh Ed, if you think he wouldn't see it that way if something happened to you, then you really don't know him well at all."

Ed swallowed thickly. He didn't have a response for that and if he wasn't careful, he was going to end up crying again.

"I do need to ask you something, Ed." Hughes interrupted Ed's silent musings and he wondered how long he had been staring into space, dwelling on his thoughts. "And I don't want to upset you, but I want to ask before Roy and Alphonse get back."

Ed looked at Hughes and studied him for a moment. He gave a slight nod to indicate he was listening. Maes' eyes softened considerably at this.

"Edward… why didn't you tell anyone about Kaleb Barringer?"

Edward just blinked for a moment, as if this situation wasn't one of his most recent nightmares. But Hughes didn't look mad. He looked so… worried. There was a deep sadness there. A sadness that was just for Ed…

"How…?" Edward managed to choke out, but he couldn't find the rest of the sentence. Hughes slipped something from his stack of papers and held up a slim envelope. On the front of it, in red writing, was the word 'Risembool.'

"It arrived yesterday. Notes on a case over seven years old about a boy found in a creek. Roy thought you knew a recent victim or had seen something happen in Central. But you saw something back then... You knew about him. Warren Pace. That's why you went after him yourself. That's right, isn't it?"

Ed stared for a moment. He felt a lie start to form on his tongue, but he pushed it back. He couldn't lie anymore. He couldn't focus enough with this pounding headache to even think of something that sounded reasonable. Then suddenly he felt like he was back in that dark shack again, with a gag pulling at the corners of his mouth and he couldn't get in enough air around the damn thing.

"Edward, you're all right. Try to calm down." Hughes sounded worried. The boy had gone pale and his breathing was becoming rather forced.

"It's my fault." Edward tightened his fist in his sheet and released it again with a spasm.

"What do you mean?"

"It's my fault." Ed didn't know what he was doing then, but he was reaching for the envelope suddenly. He didn't intend on taking it, but he wanted it to be put away. Evidence of one of his biggest regrets was just staring him in the face and he couldn't bear to look at it anymore. Hughes shifted the envelope out of his line of sight and shook his head.

"What is your fault?"

"I saved myself and Al, but I didn't bother… and I hated him so much, but I didn't mean it. I knew it wasn't safe, but I didn't stop him. I didn't even think. I hated him. I hated him." Tears began to form in the boy's eyes and he tightly shut them in an effort to stop the tears from falling.

"Calm down. Breathe. Please, breathe." Maes set all of his paperwork on the floor and leaned forward in his chair. His hands hovered over Edward, but he didn't know what to do. It made no sense to set a hand on his automail, where Ed couldn't feel it, and he couldn't find a place that wasn't covered in bandages. Hughes settled on very gently brushing the boy's golden hair away from his forehead. It wasn't long enough anymore to tie back and one side was nearly shorn off in patches. The unevenness of it looked terrible and Maes tried not to dwell on how much it looked like so many of the deceased victims'.

"Ed, I can't believe it was your fault. You were… what? Seven?"

"It doesn't matter. I was too stupid and scared and they couldn't find him and I was sick and hid it from them all." And now Edward was really starting to cry. "I-I might as well have killed him myself. It was my fault! And it's my fault he was here too! He said he looked for me. He was looking for me! They all died because of me!" Edward had started to curl up, but the pain and bandages stopped him and he fell back against the mattress roughly.

"All right. Edward, take another breath." Hughes moved in closer, lightly resting one arm across the boy's chest, trying to dissuade him from moving and further injuring himself. It was similar to the way he had first shielded the boy when they found him in that horrible shack in the woods and Maes' chest tightened over the thought. "I don't know what happened all those years ago, but I do know it's definitely not your fault. It wasn't your fault back then and it's not your fault now. Understand? You were a child." You are a child. "You did not kill this boy or any of them."

"I ha-hated him."

"Still not your fault."

"You don't know what even happened…"

"I'm here. Ed, I'm right here," Maes whispered desperately. "You can tell me what happened and I promise you that I will still believe it's not your fault."

There was a moment of silence while Ed took a few gulping breaths. Hughes removed his arm from around the boy and sat back in his chair, while he waited for him to compose himself.

"You might change your mind," Ed finally rasped.

"I won't," Maes said with a shake of his head.

Ed wanted to believe him so badly; maybe he was just dumb enough to trust someone for just a little while… He could trust this man who was too kind for his own good, even if they were going to both regret it later.

Edward took a deep breath and started at the beginning…

At the end of Edward's story Hughes didn't say anything. He simply sat there with his fingers steepled near his mouth. Edward had told him everything he remembered, right down to the childish bet over crayfish.

Ed shifted in the silence, his whole body was starting to twinge with all of his aches. While his feet were still hidden from his view he could feel that his flesh toes were wrapped together and Edward assumed they must have been broken under Warren's boot when he stomped on them. The memory that then bubbled up made Ed's stomach turn.

"I think you should tell Al about it." Maes said, interrupting Edward's dark thoughts.

"Why?" Edward grimaced at the idea.

"Because he is your brother and he knows you've been lying to him. He knew something was wrong, he was just waiting for you to tell him… and he feels guilty for not pressing the matter and keeping you from going off on your own like you did."

"He's not to blame for what happened."

"Neither are you, Edward. You are not to blame for any of it. Warren Pace is the one to blame. He's the only guilty one here."

"I killed him." Edward said it as if he had just realized it at that moment.

"…Yes." Hughes was thrown off by the abrupt shift in subjects, but he figured it would come up eventually. He knew the boy had never been forced to take a life and Hughes hoped with all his heart that it wouldn't be something that would break the young alchemist.

"I didn't even mean to." Edward sounded so detached, as if his mind still hadn't processed what had happened.

"Trust me. We could tell it was self-defense. You have no reason to feel guilt over that either. Do you understand me?" And now Hughes was leaning closer again, forcing Ed to look at him.

"Yes." Edward shut his eyes and Maes wondered if he would start crying again.

"Believe me?"

"I… want to." Edward opened his eyes again and stared resolutely past Hughes at the ceiling above him. "Are you going to tell the Colonel?"

"About… what happened when you were a child? Yes. I think he should know."

"I don't want him to think… I don't want him to know about it. He'll blame me for stalling the investigation and… and…"

"And he will understand. Eventually. He won't blame you."

Edward let out a long sigh, he felt so tired. He wanted to just fall back to sleep again…

The door swung open then and a very large suit of armor dropped his books when he saw his brother's eyes staring at him.

"Brother! You're awake!"

"Hey, Al." Ed tried to sound stronger than he felt, but it didn't really work.

"You had me so worried!" Al bounded over to the bed "Are you in pain? I'm sorry they couldn't give you a lot of pain medicine. They said it's not safe with your head injury."

"I'm alright, Al. Just very sore."

"Are you hungry? They will probably bring you lunch soon. Oh! Did you tell the Doctor you're awake?"

"I haven't been awake that long…"

"I will let them know," A voice sounded from the doorway. Roy had been watching from afar and he seemed content to not step another foot in the room. Edward peered around Al and caught the Colonel's eye briefly. Before he could say anything, Mustang turned on his heel and left.

"Well Ed, I should be going now. I have my own work to get back to." Hughes stood up, stretching his stiff back. "I will stop by tomorrow to visit." He studied the boy for a moment, before smiling lightly. "You'll be all right?"

"Yes… thank you."

"Remember what I said and try to get some rest. I will see you later." Hughes waved to the both of them before picking up the rest of his paperwork and heading out the door.

In the hallway, Maes found Roy glaring at the floor. He began casually walking towards the exit and Mustang fell into step beside him.

"You talk to the Doctor?" Hughes asked nonchalantly.

"I spoke to a nurse, someone will go in to see him in a moment." Roy spoke in a clipped tone as if was too irritated to have an actual conversation.

"Are you going to ever speak to Ed directly again?"

"When I'm not so angry."

"Right, well I'm going to drop these off and then I'm going to go pick up a bottle of liquor and bring it to your office and then we are going to get very drunk."

Roy cast a furtive glance at his friend to see if he was being serious. He was. Roy mulled the idea over for about half a second.

"Don't bother bringing anything. I have my own supply in my desk."

"Of course you do."

Mustang had been oddly silent while Maes had explained Edward's story about the Barringer boy. After he had finished the account, Roy shook his head.

"He really is an idiot. He should have told me… or you… or anyone. That self-condemnation trait is going to get him killed."

"And if he had died…"

"What?"

"It wouldn't have been your fault either."

Roy crossed his arms in annoyance. "Hughes, if you are about to give me a damn lecture that points out that I'm a hypocrite, I'm going to go home. Also, I know you. You would have been far from fine if Fullmetal had gotten himself killed. You were blaming yourself the entire time they were stitching him up."

"I wasn't going to say that you're a hypocrite, you pretentious ass. I was just going to say that the two of you are more alike than you think. And I know myself, Roy. I don't want to think about what would have happened if he had died."

Roy frowned at that and took a long drink from his glass. As he began to pour himself more, he just shook his head again. Without another word, they had both started drinking steadily. Usually this sort of thing would have been frowned upon while they were both at work, but it had been a terrible week. Colonel Mustang had sent his subordinates home early. He claimed they had done enough in recent events and had earned a little time off. Hughes was taking the rest of the afternoon off for "personal" reasons. He had already finished all the paperwork he could while still waiting on the autopsy report of Warren Pace. There wasn't a problem with him taking one afternoon off. Soon he would be up to his ears in paperwork again, but for the moment he could take some time to regroup.

So it was in the spirit of regrouping that soon found Maes stretched out on Mustang's office couch, feeling the effects of too much alcohol in too short a period of time. Roy seemed to be worse off though. He had knocked an empty glass off the coffee table at some point and when he went to retrieve it, the Colonel ended up slipping to the floor in a boneless heap. He then sort of stretched out and stared at the ceiling for a long time, not bothering to get up again.

"Damn, I just remembered I didn't tell you about the map on his chest," Hughes suddenly muttered while rubbing at his eyes behind his glasses.

"Hmmm… what chest? What are you talking about?" Roy asked sounding a bit dazed.

"If I tell you now, I might be sick on your carpet. Remind me later."

"Not going to remember later…"

Maes glanced over to Roy, but couldn't see him behind the low table. He gingerly rolled himself off the couch and maneuvered his way around the table before plopping down on the floor beside his friend. Roy had his eyes closed and looked like he might be drifting off to sleep. Hughes stretched out flat on his back with a sigh. "You need a new couch, that one makes the room spin around."

Roy hummed in response, but didn't say anything. There was a long moment of silence and Hughes could feel himself starting to feel sleepy. He could just close his eyes for a minute…

"How do you stand it?" Roy asked out of the blue, startling the other man fully awake.

"What?" Maes turned his head to look at his friend, but Roy still had his eyes shut as if he was sleeping. He was about to let it go when Roy spoke again.

"Having kids." Roy made a purposeless motion in the air with one hand.

"I only have one kid, first of all." Hughes turned back to look at the ceiling.

"He's not even mine and he's… he's impossible. Tell him not to run in the hallway and he puts his arm through a door… Tell him to stay and he just takes off on a suicide mission." Mustang had opened his eyes at this point, but they were a bit glazed over. Hughes shifted, trying to find a more comfortable spot on the carpet.

"Well, the thing about children, Roy… the thing is… the thing is… one way or another… they will break your heart at some point… sometimes it's when they are younger and they do dumb things, sometimes it's when something happens to them that you can't control and sometimes it's… it's both things at once."

"Why the hell would anyone choose to be a parent then?"

"Well, no, the thing is… Roy, the thing is… it's a privilege."

"A privilege?" Roy gave a small snort of disbelief.

"Yes! It's a privilege. It's a terrifying honor to have to take care of someone else, to have someone rely on you. It's… like a burden. But it's borne with… joy." Maes had stretched out his arms and let them both fall outwards. He ended up accidentally smacking Roy in the face with one hand and he grunted an apology, but then he let his hand slide into Roy's hair and kept it there, resting atop his friend's head.

"I think it feels like slamming your head against a wall," Roy muttered.

Maes gently patted Roy's head. "It can feel like that too. Honestly, if you really want to know, find yourself a wife and settle down."

Roy let out a groan and took a halfhearted swipe at Maes' hand. Hughes shifted his arm away from his friend's mussed up hair and grinned suddenly.

"You and Alphonse have a fun trip to the library?" He inquired with that knowing smirk in place.

"…Yes. He's not much like Fullmetal. He's not…loud."

"I think he can be, if he needs to be."

"Hell… I can't imagine what it was like to raise them as kids. That sounds awful."

Hughes actually laughed, "I doubt she thought it was."

Both men went quiet as they thought about Trisha Elric. They both knew of the tragedy of her death, but they weren't familiar with the precise details surrounding it. Roy preferred it that way, but he had a respect for the woman who managed to raise Edward safely through his young childhood. Roy wouldn't have been able to manage it. Current events proved that.

There was a sudden knock at the door and neither man reacted to it, they both just blinked up at the ceiling in confusion. The door creaked open to reveal Havoc with an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. He seemed startled at first to find them both on the floor, but soon was grinning broadly.

"Told you to go home," Roy motioned dismissively from his undignified position on the plush carpet.

"Well, I did leave, but Lieutenant Hawkeye told me I should come back soon to pick you two up. She said you'd overdo it and you'd need the ride home."

"She really does know everything," Hughes mused aloud.

"Yes, she does," Roy agreed.

When Mustang received a call early the next morning that informed him that Edward Elric had been causing issues at the hospital, he was not actually surprised. He was hungover and irritated, but not surprised. However, he was startled to learn that the drama was over a haircut. He had been planning to let Edward have it, to tell him to stop being so damn difficult for the nurses and allow one of them to cut his hair so he could look more normal and stop looking like… well…stop looking like one of the victims.

When he opened the door to Edward's room he was ready to shout, but the reprimand quickly died in his throat when he saw blood on the floor. He glanced around the room, but only saw the hulking suit of armor in the far corner, facing away from the door. Ed was nowhere to be seen. Al turned to look to see who had come in and looked as relieved as he could possibly look. He then turned back and spoke quietly to his brother, who Roy realized was wedged in the corner, hidden behind Alphonse.

Roy took a few cautious steps into the room, trying to look unimposing. Whatever had happened hadn't been good.

"Did he rip out his stitches?" Roy had asked as he eyed the drops of blood staining the floor. It made sense; the boy had so many stitches, that any rough movement could cause them to be torn out.

"No, no. Brother took out his IV line," Al explained, turning back around to face the Colonel.

Yes, the IV pole was tipped on its side, next to a chair that was toppled over in the middle of the room. Roy narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing these details, but he softened his expression when he spotted a pair of golden eyes peering out from behind Al's armor. He walked slowly, until he could see Edward properly. The boy was sitting on the cold tile, squeezed into the corner, with both legs stretched out in front of him. The hospital had finally issued him a standard shirt and Roy was glad he couldn't see his chest and stomach swathed with bandages. Ed looked like he wanted to curl his knees to his chest, but couldn't do it, due to pain and his automail malfunctioning.

Ed glared at Colonel Mustang, but he failed to look intimidating at all. Roy glanced at his broken toes, glad to see that the wrappings there hadn't come undone. He cautiously knelt down a few feet away from Edward.

"You want to tell me what happened?" Roy tried to keep his voice neutral, but it still carried an annoyed tone. When Ed looked away without answering, Al intervened.

"Brother… didn't like the chair," he explained delicately.

"The chair?" Roy cast the offending object a quick glance.

"It wasn't the damn chair," Ed grumbled and he actually looked embarrassed over the whole thing.

"You said it was the chair when you kicked it," Alphonse said in exasperation.

"That's not what I meant!" Ed suddenly shouted, but quickly grew quiet as if surprised by the loudness of his own voice.

"Ed…" Al trailed off.

"I don't want to talk about it!" Ed made a movement with one arm as if he meant to push himself off the floor, but he made no progress.

"You almost hit that nice nurse though."

"It was an accident!" Ed flailed his left arm, but the movement seemed to cause him pain and he stopped abruptly. Roy was reaching the end of his patience. Burden borne with joy indeed.

"Enough! Fullmetal, if you keep acting out, the hospital will restrain you to the bed, do you want that?"

Edward's eyes widened a bit and he gave a quick shake of his head. Restraints? No, they couldn't do that to him. He would really lose it if they tried to.

"They wouldn't do that. Would they?" Ed's voice betrayed the amount of cold fear he felt blossoming in his chest.

"If you act violently, they will."

Edward's cheek twitched at the thought. He shifted his position on the floor, but could still not get any leverage to push himself up. Al began to reach out his hands to assist him, but Ed shook his head, the longer strands of hair falling forward in front of his eye. Edward's body seemed to give a shudder and he leaned forward, resting his forehead on Al's metal chest plate.

It had begun to creep in at the edges of Mustang's mind that the Fullmetal Alchemist was really not well and he wouldn't be for quite a long time.

"Was it the chair?" Roy asked.

"No!" Ed spat, but the vehemence was lost as he was currently still pressing his face into his younger brother's chest.

"The scissors? The IV?"

"No!"

"What then?" Roy demanded. Ed pulled away from his brother and glared harshly at Mustang.

"It was all of it, alright? All of it. I can't sit in the damn chair and I can't have someone standing behind me where I can't see them and I can't have someone I don't know cutting my hair again!"

There was a moment of silence while Roy let his words sink in. He hadn't taken Edward's statement on the incident yet. He had been waiting. Waiting for Fullmetal to feel up to the task, waiting for him to heal more… waiting for his own weakness to diminish so he could hear Edward's side without feeling that horrible twisting in his own gut.

"It's the sound… the sound of it by my ear," Edward continued, his expression taking on a glossy eyed look. "And he cut my ear and I couldn't do anything about it before." That was true, the top of Ed's ear had a small slice in it and he had two small stitches there. Roy hadn't given them much thought, it was just one more injury added to the extensive list.

"Alphonse can't do it?" Mustang wanted to bring the boy out of his daze, he worried that Ed might have some sort of flashback if he talked too much about it now.

"Al won't." Ed said, sounding mildly accusingly.

"I can't get a good grip on the scissors; I don't want to hurt you by accident, brother." Al sighed and Roy got the impression that they had already been over this more than once.

"I know. Sorry," Ed muttered, casting his eyes to the ground.

"What if I cut your hair, then?" Mustang asked suddenly. "And you could sit on the floor with Alphonse. Could you do it then?"

"I-I'm not a little kid," Ed stammered and looked irritated again.

"I didn't say you were."

The fight seemed to go out of Ed then and he cast his eyes around the room, as if searching for a reason that this wouldn't work either.

"Fine, we can try it," he finally said.

Roy located the scissors which had been, at some point, knocked under the hospital bed. Edward situated himself so that he was practically in Al's lap. He was gripping his brother's arm as tightly as he could with one hand and, while Roy watched him, the Colonel started to think that this wasn't going to work. Ed was obviously working hard to stay still, but he was like a coiled spring, ready to jump up at any moment.

Roy kneeled in front of Edward and the boy instantly leaned backward away from him. Mustang raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Ed looked frustrated and he glared hard at his own hand. His flesh hand was gripping Al's arm tightly and Roy worried about his injuries there. Ed's automail arm didn't seem to be working properly. It would twitch occasionally, as if registering a faint signal from Edward, but mostly is just hung uselessly at his side.

Roy brought the scissors up and Edward's eyes tracked them nervously. Mustang then flipped them around so that he was grasping them by the closed blades. He offered the handle to Ed, but the boy just looked confused by this turn of events.

"Take them," Roy prompted. Still looking apprehensive, Ed reached and shakily took the scissors with his bandaged hand. Roy ignored the blood from the IV line that had saturated some of his bandages.

"I can't cut it myself." Ed looked at the Colonel as if the man had lost his mind. "I can't see my hair and I can't hold them steady." The last part was said more quietly. Roy sighed in exasperation.

"I know, but can you open and close them?"

With some effort, Ed found he could open and close the scissors, but the movement seemed to cause him some pain. With another sigh, Roy very carefully caught Edward's hand to hold it steady. He then leaned forward so that his face was only a few inches from Ed's hand. Roy gave his own head a shake, allowing his bangs to fall in front of his eyes.

"Here. Just bring the scissors up and then open and close them."

"Colonel…" Alphonse had been quiet up to this point, but he couldn't hold back his own worry. However, he could see the tension beginning to leave his brother's shoulders, so he figured the Colonel must have an idea of what he was doing. "Brother, be careful."

"I…Are you sure, Mustang?" Ed asked with concern evident on his face.

"I'll support your hand. Try not to stab me in the eye."

Ed furrowed his brow and then slowly, slowly moved his hand toward the Colonel's forehead. Roy was careful to support the boy's movement, helping to guide his hand and hoping the boy wouldn't lose his grip and end up accidentally stabbing him in the face. Once he was within range, Ed opened the scissors and shut them again with a decisive snip. Roy blinked as he saw some of his own hair fall away. He tried not to stare at the dark strands that had landed on the floor in front of him. He could easily fix a horrible haircut; it was fixing Fullmetal that he needed to worry about now.

Roy brushed his dark hair out of his eyes and he noticed that a good sized section of it was much shorter now.

"With my help do you think you can manage that for yourself?" Roy asked. Ed nodded, looking a bit surprised that he had just ruined his superior officer's hair and the Colonel didn't seem to care.

The next hour wasn't easy, but with Mustang's assistance, Ed was able to trim most of his own hair. Upon Mustang's prompting, Alphonse had begun talking to Edward about the latest research he was reading. He also discussed Ed's upcoming release from the hospital. If everything went well, Ed could go back to the dorm in two days. The consistent chatter was only broken up by minor instruction from Roy when he would prompt Ed to move the scissors a certain way. After time, his hair began to look like something normal again. His fringe ended up much shorter than Roy had ever seen it, but at least it wasn't uneven anymore.

Roy had been careful not to pull the boy's hair, as that was something that seemed to make Ed tremor anxiously, but they got to a point where Edward couldn't move his arm into position to cut his hair in the back. Roy gently took the scissors from Ed's hand and seemed to think about the situation for a moment.

"Edward, turn towards your brother. Alphonse, keep talking."

Ed turned himself as he was told and Al gently placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. Roy then scooted behind Edward. He then glanced up at Alphonse and gave him a nod. Al jumped slightly remembering that he was supposed to be filling in the silence.

"Brother, I haven't called Winry about your automail. I thought you might want to call her yourself when you are feeling better."

Ed let out a sigh. "She may actually kill me this time. I can't even get the fingers to close at all now and-"

The noise of dozens of golden strands being sliced through resounded in Edward's ear and he jerked forward so suddenly that nobody had time to react before he slammed face first into Al's metal chest piece. Roy swore loudly and dropped the scissors to the floor.

"Brother!" Al tried to push Edward away enough so that he could inspect his face for injury. He had new stitches in his cheek and Al worried that Edward had just managed to bust the cut open again. However, Ed wasn't moving from his position so, after brief hesitation, Al carefully wrapped his arms around his brother instead.

"You're alright, Ed," Al said calmly. There was a long moment of silence where the only sound in the room was Edward struggling to get his breathing under control again. After a few strained minutes, his breathing began sounding less harsh and Edward slowly pushed himself away from Al.

Alphonse placed his hands on Edward's shoulders and studied his older brother's face.

"Your stitches look fine," Al said in relief. "Your forehead is red though. Does it hurt?"

Ed shook his head, but didn't say anything. Mustang opened his mouth to try to speak, but no sound came out at first. He took a deep breath and tried again.

"I'm sorry, Fullmetal. I should have warned you."

Ed let out a humorless laugh. He sounded choked with pain and unshed tears.

"No, I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that. It was stupid." Edward was resolutely avoiding the Colonel's gaze now, staring at the tiles on the floor as if he was worried they would begin to move from underneath him.

"Your hair does look better," Roy tried. "We can try to trim the rest of it some other time," he said as he stood up from his kneeling position and stretched his legs. Edward didn't respond and Roy's heart dropped when he thought the boy might not be able to bare something as simple as a haircut ever again. If Edward was that damaged, if he wasn't going to be able to get up and walk away from this… Roy knew he would never forgive himself for allowing such harm to befall him.

"S-so-some other time," Ed stammered finally.

Roy couldn't remember a time he was more grateful to hear such a simple sentence from the Fullmetal Alchemist.

A few hours later, Roy was sat in his office chair with his eyes closed as Hawkeye worked to trim the rest of his hair to match the bit that was cut off by Edward. There was a blanket wrapped around his shoulders to keep errant hairs from sticking to his uniform and he found a calmness settle over him as he listened to the steady snipping of the scissors. There was a pause while Riza inspected her work. Roy felt her gently card her fingers through his hair, looking for strands that were too long. She hesitated for a moment, before resuming her work again.

"Sometimes I think your kindness gets the better of you, sir," she stated, breaking the peaceful silence. Roy hummed as he turned that thought over in his mind.

"People don't think that about me," he finally muttered.

"You're secret is safe with me, sir."

Roy huffed in amusement. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

When the Colonel arrived at the hospital early the next day, he was surprised to find Hughes was already there talking quietly to Alphonse. Edward was lying still in the bed and was breathing deeply as he slept. Roy was glad at least somebody was able to get some sleep during this whole mess.

"Did you cut your hair?" Hughes asked with a raised eyebrow. Roy just nodded. Hughes looked like he was going to say more on the subject, but he got the feeling that his friend didn't want to talk about it. Maes decided to let it go for now.

"Roy, maybe you could help me out?"

"With what?" Roy asked as he brought over the other spare chair in the room.

"I was just talking with Alphonse here about a slight situation that has come up. It's not strictly confidential and I think you should know."

"What's this about?" Mustang asked, casting Alphonse a scrutinizing look.

"A man named Jaysen Pace has contacted me. He is Warren Pace's only living relative and he will be in Central tomorrow."

"And?" Roy began to feel a horrible sensation in his chest, like he was about to be blindsided by something and he couldn't stop it.

"I believe he was hoping to be able to bury his brother, but as the investigation is still open, he won't be able to. So, the thing is, Jaysen Pace would like to speak with the only surviving victim."

"No." What the hell was this about? Had Hughes lost his mind?

"Roy, I'm not happy with the idea either and I've already told him he wouldn't be able to, but I thought Edward should know."

"What good could come from him knowing that?" Roy's voice began to rise in volume. "What good could come from him meeting with him? No, Hughes. Hell, no." And now Mustang was standing up and he didn't know when that had happened.

"The man is not the same as his brother," Maes stood up and tried to place his hand on Mustang's arm in a pacifying motion, "and I think he wants to… apologize."

"Apologize… the murderer's brother wants to apologize?" Roy sidestepped out of Maes' reach. Maybe it was due to lack of sleep, but Roy had heard enough.

"Look, he is going to speak with me tomorrow afternoon in my office. He will not visit Ed here."

"Of course he isn't," Roy scoffed. "He's not coming near him. Why would you even think that would be a good idea?" You didn't see him yesterday.

Hughes took in a deep breath through his nose. Pick and choose your battles.

"All right, Roy. I was going to ultimately leave it up to Edward, but if you feel that strongly about it, I will leave it alone." Hughes gave a nod to Alphonse, who had remained quiet during the argument. "I have to go anyway; I will see you boys later."

As Hughes moved past Roy he paused and gave him a scrutinizing look. "Walk with me for a moment?"

Mustang hesitated before giving a curt nod and following his friend out the door. Once they were both gone, Al gave a sigh and looked at Edward's still form. His brother had told him two nights ago about what had happened involving Kaleb Barringer and, while that had been incredibly difficult for him to talk about, Edward had managed to tell his brother the whole story in between choked sobs and clenched teeth. However, Edward outright refused to tell Al the details about his short time held captive by Warren Pace.

"I wish you wouldn't do that, brother."

Edward fluttered his eyes open in response.

"Do what?" Ed asked, his voice still sounding rough from sleeping.

"Pretend to still be asleep. It's awkward for me."

"I wouldn't have woken up if they hadn't started talking so damn loud, nobody can sleep through that."

"Did you hear everything?"

"A lot of it."

"What do you think?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure what good it would do to meet him, but…" Ed trailed off, staring silently at the ceiling.

"But what, brother?"

Maes and Roy walked in silence for several paces.

"Al told me that Ed will be discharged from the hospital in a few days. They are planning on leaving to Risembool as soon as Ed feels strong enough for the trip. Al says Edward wants to have his automail repaired as soon as possible so he can walk properly."

Roy nodded. "Good. I've already put paperwork through for him. He is on leave for at least a month."

Hughes stopped walking abruptly and turned to face his friend.

"I'm sorry, Roy. I didn't mean to scare you about Jaysen Pace."

"I'm not scared of the Pace brother," Roy ground out.

"That's not what I meant." Hughes pinched the bridge of his nose and then rubbed at his eyes.

"Get some sleep, Hughes. You look terrible."

"Look in a mirror, Mustang. What the hell happened to your hair anyway?" Maes gave him a strained grin, which Roy returned briefly after a moment.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you later."

"I'll look forward to it."

Hughes exited the hospital with a wave and Roy found himself staring after him, unmoving. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. He just needed to handle one thing at a time… He was going to go back and check on the Elric brothers and then he would continue on with his day as normal. If he had a say in it, Edward would never know anything about Jaysen Pace.

"…I do want to ask him a question," Edward murmured sleepily as he let his eyes close again.

"It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light."

-Aristotle Onassis

The nurses had switched the location of Edward's IV line after he had ripped it out. It was now located in the crook of his arm, which hindered his movement even more, but they said he had caused some damage to his hand and it would be painful and incredibly difficult if they tried that area again. He was still only mainly receiving fluids and antibiotics, as morphine was off the table due to his head injury. The painkillers they had him on only worked to barely take the edge off and Edward found it very difficult not to wince in pain every time he tried to move anything. Al was constantly trying to make Ed more comfortable, but nothing seemed to help. After watching Ed struggle to feed himself lunch, Al was desperate to distract his brother from his injuries. He had begun to read to him, but Edward seemed distracted and only listened halfheartedly. After a few minutes of this, Ed cut his brother off midsentence.

"Al, could you do me a favor?"

"Of course, brother! What is it?" Al shut the book he was reading and set it to the side. He was eager to help in any way that he could. Ed bit his bottom lip for a minute, thinking over what he was going to say in his head.

"Do you think you can get me some red fabric? I want to transmute my coat… I don't think they're going to find my old one… But I would like to have it." Edward finally admitted. He glanced away, not meeting his brother's look.

Al surveyed him for a moment. Ed was still too pale and he still had dark circles under his eyes, even though he had been sleeping for most of his hospital stay.

"Do you feel up to transmuting that?" Al asked quietly.

The corner of Edward's mouth turned up in a slight smile. "I think I can manage it. It's simple"

Al still hesitated. "Will you be alright while I'm gone?"

Ed rolled his eyes and turned to look at his brother directly. "Yeah, it shouldn't take too long. I'll probably just sleep while you're out."

Al finally seemed slightly less anxious about leaving Ed alone… it would be good to do something to feel more useful in this situation. After all, there was so much that Alphonse found he couldn't help with. He wasn't there when his brother was captured, he couldn't save him, he couldn't even find him, now he couldn't do anything to help his brother heal faster and he wasn't even able to do something like cut his hair for him. Most often, Al found himself at a loss and it was beginning to wear on him. He didn't like having to sit still any more than Edward did.

"Alright, brother. I will be back soon."

Ed let his eyes close as he gave a slight nod. With a last glance at Edward, Al quickly went out the door, grateful to be of help.

Ed was so tired. Maybe he could let himself sleep instead of doing what he was planning on doing. It was always hard when it involved lying to his little brother. Edward shook his head and let out a sigh. He forced his eyes open and glared harshly at the ceiling. Damn it all.

For the second time during his hospital stay, Ed yanked his arm roughly to the side and ripped out his IV line.

The nurses were really going to hate him for that.

Hughes hadn't been able to bring himself to eat anything for lunch. He had just sat and stared at his disappointing salad for nearly an hour, before giving up and heading back to his office. He noticed his receptionist was still away at lunch and he would have some time to himself to think things over. He would appreciate the moment to get his thoughts together. Since this whole thing had begun, he felt like he was working nearly nonstop and when he wasn't actively working, he was thinking about working. As it was, he and his staff had carried on working through the weekend without missing a beat. He promised himself that he would take some of his vacation days as soon as this was all over. For now, he could just focus on the task at hand.

Jaysen Pace was set to meet him in his office in less than an hour. Originally, Hughes had only contacted the man to inform him of his brother's death. Records indicated that the two men hadn't been in contact for nearly ten years, so Hughes had no reason to believe that Jaysen knew anything about his brother's actions or whereabouts. Surprisingly, Jaysen Pace had been adamant about speaking to Hughes face to face and so he had agreed to the meeting. Even he wasn't entirely sure what to expect though.

Maes was so lost in thought that he wasn't able to fully process what he was seeing when he opened the door to his office and found Edward collapsed on the floor, propped up against his desk. He blinked at the boy in confusion. Surely, the sleepless nights had finally caught up to him and he was hallucinating.

"Hughes…" Ed had lifted his head and squinted at the man as if he was trying to bring him into focus. The boy was still wearing his hospital issued shirt and trousers along with a thin white coat that looked very similar in style to his traditional red one. His automail arm hung to one side, but he had wrapped his flesh arm around his middle as if he was trying desperately to keep warm in the tepid room. He wasn't wearing shoes and Hughes could see that some of the bandages that had wrapped around his broken toes were gone. He could now see the cotton protruding out from between each toe and the thin medical tape that was straining to keep them bound together.

"Edward, what are you doing here?" Once over his shock, he crossed the office quickly and knelt in front of the boy. Upon closer inspection, Maes realized that the fabric from Edward's new jacket looked familiar. "Did you transmute this from the hospital blanket?"

Ed glanced down at himself as if he had forgotten what he was wearing.

"Well, yeah," Edward sounded bewildered and slightly out of breath.

"Does your brother know you are here?"

"No, but he'll probably figure it out soon." Ed bent his flesh leg, trying to get it underneath him so he could push himself off the ground. Hughes caught his knee and gave a shake of his head. He couldn't bear to see Ed put all his weight on a foot with mostly broken toes.

"How did you even get here?"

"My room is on the first floor. I went out the window." Ed gave a small, half shrug.

"How did you even manage that? I thought your automail wasn't working right and your toes are broken!"

Edward glanced away at the floor, looking slightly embarrassed.

"I… fell..." He admitted quietly.

Hughes then realized that Edward was holding his arm too closely to his stomach. He released the boy's knee and gently pushed his arm out of the way. Ed didn't resist at all and that was a testament to how lousy the boy was feeling. Maes pulled aside the white coat that was obscuring his view. Spots of red were beginning to soak through the cloth of his hospital shirt and Hughes realized that Edward had managed to tear out at least some of the stitches on his stomach.

Maes studied the spots of red for a brief moment before briskly standing and picking up the phone receiver on his desk.

"Wait, who are you calling?" Edward struggled to push himself off the floor, leaning heavily on Maes' desk.

"Colonel Mustang."

"No! Why?" Ed's foot slipped from under him, but he immediately tried to stand again.

"Because you are bleeding and he is going to have a conniption when they tell him you're missing again."

"It's not that bad! Please Hughes! The Colonel won't let me stay and I need to stay!" He had managed to get his foot under him and push himself into a standing position, but he swayed dangerously. Hughes put down the phone and put his arms out to catch him. However, Ed took a stumbling step back from Maes' outstretched hands. The automail in his leg wasn't bending at the knee and Ed was forced to take steps with his whole leg straightened out. Hughes stopped moving forward; worried he would fall trying to get away from him.

"Why do you need to stay?" Maes asked, with his hands hovering uselessly in the space between them.

"I need to talk to Jaysen Pace! I need to. Please let me stay." And Edward was looking at him with a spark he hadn't seen in a while, but it was short lived as the boy began breathing too quickly.

"Calm down, Ed." The last thing he needed was for Edward to hyperventilate in his office. "Breathe in slowly."

Edward did as he was told and he closed his eyes against the pain in his chest. He wobbled a bit and Hughes cautiously placed a hand at his automail elbow. When the boy didn't react negatively to his proximity, Maes gently placed a hand on his flesh arm as well.

"I'm sorry, Hughes. I just need to know."

"Ed…"

"Are you angry at me?" Ed was staring at him intensely again, but Hughes could see the bit of brokenness there lingering in his eyes.

Without warning, Hughes wrapped both his arms around Edward, causing the boy to jump in surprise, but he did not have the strength to push the man away. Instead he found himself leaning into the embrace and for the briefest moment he felt that he could fall apart right there if he allowed himself to.

"I'm not mad at you, you ridiculous boy. I'm worried about you, not angry… though you are going to give the Colonel a heart attack one of these days with the stunts you keep pulling."

They stayed like that for several minutes, until Maes felt that Edward was really breathing regularly again…Until he felt like he could speak to the child in a steady voice of his own. He loosened his grip and let Edward push away from him. Hughes kept his hands on the boy's shoulders and studied his young face intently.

"Why do you need to talk to Jaysen Pace?" Hughes asked as he continued to hold Edward upright.

"Need to ask him a question," Ed's eyes began to dart around the room, as if expecting the Pace brother to appear any moment.

"Could I ask him for you?" Hughes tilted his head to try to catch the boy's eye again.

"…No, I need to know for myself." Ed shook his head and Maes tried to not get distracted by the longer strands of hair that swished back in forth at the back of the boy's golden head. "Can I sit in on your meeting?"

"I really don't know if that would be wise."

"Please, Hughes." And then Edward looked so desperate then that Hughes felt his resolve crumble completely.

"Fine, please sit down before you fall." Pick and choose your battles… "You can ask your question, but then you're going back to the hospital right away. Understood?"

Edward nodded, but then eyed the chair in front of Maes' desk warily. Hughes blinked, not knowing what to make of the nervous look.

"Edward?" Maes questioned.

"I-I can stand."

"No, you really can't."

Edward mumbled something with his head lowered that Hughes couldn't make out at all.

"What was that, Ed?"

Edward sighed heavily. "I don't think I can sit."

"What do you mean?"

"There was this chair at the hospital and… I don't know what happened. I couldn't do it. I ripped out my IV, I almost hit the nurse and I did hit Al. They wanted me to sit still and I couldn't do it… It pressed into my back and it hurt and I couldn't breathe with it like that and it was like… I wasn't really there anymore…"

Hughes clenched his teeth. In Edward's limited way, Maes caught on that the boy was telling him that he had experienced a sort of flashback. Hughes knew about flashbacks. How many shell shocked soldiers had he seen go through their own personal hell over and over again? There were times when he watched people he knew scream at the walls and try to strangle their friends when they got too close. He had felt it himself, and he knew for sure that Roy had. Even long after the war, there were still nights when he would receive a late night phone call and have to drive over to Roy's home to make sure the man hadn't destroyed his house or himself. Sometimes alcohol would help to soothe those night terrors away and sometimes it made everything so much worse. Those nights when his best friend shouted at the walls and actually cried and apologized over and over again to people who had been long dead… Hughes remembered those nights too clearly, even if Roy always claimed afterwards that he didn't recollect the details.

"Take a breath. You can sit in my desk chair. It's cushioned and I promise that the back of it won't press against you. Also, I'm going to have Colonel Mustang called, so that he knows where you are."

"But-" Edward started to argue, but Maes cut him off.

"I will have him called after Pace arrives. That should give you enough time to ask your question."

"Thank you," Edward breathed in relief. Maes gave a nod and gently helped Edward take the few laborious steps around his desk and ease into his chair.

Hughes had stepped out to have a word with his returned receptionist and Edward felt the first few pangs of panic. It was stupid, but Ed didn't like being left in the room alone. It felt too quiet. Cushioned or not, sitting still in the chair made him uneasy. He knew he couldn't move well on his own yet. His arm still wouldn't cooperate and his leg jammed up so that he kept having to awkwardly swing it in front of him just to take a step. If he needed to get out of the chair quickly, he wouldn't be able to. He might as well be tied to it…

Edward's heart began to beat too fast… The door to Hughes' office swung open and Edward jumped at the movement. Maes saw the startled movement and quirked his eyebrow at Edward.

"Ed, are you all right?"

"F-fine." Ed tried to stop trembling. When had he started tremoring like that? He felt like he was going to shake himself to little pieces.

"Are you sure?" Hughes scrutinized him thoroughly.

"Yes." Ed sat up straighter, ignoring the pain is caused in his abdomen and willing himself to sit still.

"Good, because Jaysen Pace is waiting outside." Hughes studied Ed for a moment and waited to see his reaction. But Ed's eyes only widened slightly and he gave a brisk nod. Hughes hesitated. "He's arrived early." Maes felt the need to fill the silence. "You need to let me know now if you've changed your mind."

Edward had pulled out his own IV for the second time, tumbled out of his hospital window and then limped the entire way to Hughes' office barefoot with wrecked automail and broken toes; he wasn't going to back out now.

"I haven't changed my mind." Ed was surprised at how resolute his voice sounded. It certainly didn't match the rolling sensation he felt in his stomach. Hughes gave a nod and stepped out of his office again. He was only gone for a moment before the door was opened and he entered with an unreadable expression on his face. Behind him was a slightly shorter man with light brown hair that was neatly parted and combed to the side. A day's stubble marked his face, but he was wearing a collared shirt with neatly pressed trousers and a jacket. There had been care taken to make sure he gave a positive first impression, but the circles under his eyes gave the story of a man who had not slept in well over a day. And when he finally looked up from the ground, Edward had to steel himself against the glance of sharp blue eyes that were too familiar. Without hesitation, Hughes grabbed a spare chair from the wall and dragged it next to where Edward was sitting. He then sat down at Edward's side and motioned for Pace to sit down in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. But the man missed the gesture as he was staring wide eyed at Ed.

Up to this point, Ed hadn't thought much of his appearance, but judging on the look he was receiving, he realized that he looked terrible. He hadn't thought much about the stitches that still marred his face or his hair that was still uneven in the back. Now it entered his mind like an unsettling itch and he felt much too exposed.

"Please sit down, Mr. Pace," Hughes prompted.

The man then jolted out of his trance and quickly fumbled over to his chair and sat down heavily. Edward felt like he was going to throw up on Hughes' desk.

"Mr. Elric will only be joining us for a short time. I know you wished to speak with him, but I must ask that he be allowed to speak first. Do you understand?"

Pace nodded, but he hadn't lost that wide-eyed expression.

"Edward." Hughes prompted and he gave the boy a nod. Ed felt like there was a buzzing in his brain and he winced at the pain from it. "Ed?" Maes asked looking slightly worried. Edward suddenly sat up straighter and gave a nod to Hughes. But when he looked at Jaysen Pace he found himself shaking his head slightly. The words he wanted to say didn't seem to be there and he gasped like a fish out of water for a moment.

"Why?" The word then tumbled out of Edward's mouth on its own and the boy couldn't add anything else to make himself more understandable. Maes raised an eyebrow in confusion, but Pace's eyes somehow widened more at this and then softened considerably.

"If you want to know why my brother did what he did… I'm not sure." Jaysen Pace's voice was surprisingly deep, but gentle and Edward was relieved that the brothers didn't sound the same. "But I do know that I am really the one to blame."

Edward shifted in his seat and Hughes had leaned forward.

"What do you mean?" Hughes asked in a detached sort of way. He was all serious business now, removing his own emotions from the situation. Jaysen Pace shut his eyes and took a breath. When he opened his eyes again, they fell upon Edward and they remained there while he spoke.

"Warren was eleven years younger than me and our parents weren't the most… stable people... I left home when I was fourteen and never looked back. But I left him there… a few years later I read in a newspaper about a man murdering his wife and then killing himself in his home. The only witness was their five year old son and he had just sat in our old house for days before somebody found them. I… I tried to claim him, but they wouldn't let me take him. I was still too young and he was…there was something wrong with him. Once I was old enough, I tried to become his guardian, but the government wouldn't relinquish him. They said I was ill-equipped to be his caretaker… because he was violent and they had classified him as a danger to himself and others. He was eight then. I tried. I tried, but they wouldn't let me take him home. I had the chance to speak to him and I realized that he didn't know who I was. He didn't remember me. You see, it was my fault for leaving him. You're asking me why? Why he did what he did? I don't really know." Pace finally glanced away and stared at the ground as he blinked several times, determined not to be overcome by emotion.

"I am so sorry," he continued, looking up at Edward again. His eyes were filling with tears, despite his best efforts. "I'm so sorry to you and to everyone he hurt. He was my little brother and I failed him so completely. I know you don't have a reason to, but that's why I wanted to speak to you. To ask if you could find it in yourself to forgive me for allowing this to happen…."

Edward stood up suddenly and wavered unsteadily on his feet. Though surprised by the abrupt movement, Maes quickly stood to join him, placing a hand on his back to steady him.

"I need to go," Ed said hastily and he started to move around Hughes toward the exit. He only took two steps before Hughes had to catch him before he could fall. Thinking the boy was at a breaking point, Maes quickly worked to support him, half carrying him out of his office. At the last moment, Ed turned back and Hughes stumbled to keep him upright.

Ed looked at Jaysen Pace for a long moment, his eyes trailing the tears that escaped down the man's face.

"You haven't done anything that I need to forgive. You… you were a child too. Thank you for talking to me." Then, Edward turned back and staggered the rest of the way out of the office. Hughes shut the door behind them and pretended not to hear the sounds of crying that broke out suddenly from the other side of it. Hughes' receptionist had stood up when she saw them both, but she didn't seem to know what to do. Maes motioned for her to stay where she was and then concentrated on Edward.

"Hughes, I think I'm going to be sick." Ed sagged heavily to the side and Maes gently lowered him to the ground.

"Take a deep breath through your nose, Ed… Let it go slowly out your mouth... Take another breath and let it out slowly." Hughes was kneeling next to him with one hand placed around the boy's shoulders. "You did well," Maes said after a moment.

"I didn't do anything," Ed huffed out after a moment. Hughes tightened his grip around Edward slightly.

"Oh, Ed. You forgave him. That meant everything to him."

"It wasn't his fault." Ed shook his head before taking another steadying breath.

Maes fixed the boy with a stare. "Do you finally see that it's really not yours either? Forgive yourself, Edward. Please stop pushing yourself so hard to make things right when you don't need to."

Edward didn't say anything, but he gave the slightest nod and Hughes smiled.

"I'm sorry he couldn't really answer your question, but honestly I don't think anyone can. Not the way you're thinking anyway."

"I… I just thought, if anyone could, it would be his brother. I thought… how could you not realize what your own brother is capable of? I don't know… I just…" The tremoring had returned and Hughes tightened his arm further around Edward's shoulders.

"Not everyone is as close as you and Alphonse," Hughes muttered quietly.

"But were they close at one point?" Ed quickly glanced up at the man before letting his gaze drop back to the floor again.

"I think something went wrong there very early on. Don't compare yourself to him. You are going to be all right, Ed. Al will be all right too. No matter what you go through, the two of you have each other… and you have me and the Colonel and a lot of other people that are willing to help you. Understand?"

To Hughes' relief, Edward's shaking had slowed down again and his breathing had nearly returned to normal. Edward gave a near indiscernible nod.

"Believe me?" Hughes leaned down, trying to catch the boy's eye.

"Yes." Ed finally answered after a moment.

"Good." Hughes leaned back and loosened his hold on Edward. It was at that moment that he realized that they had company. Havoc was standing a few feet in front of them, carrying a careful grin on his face.

"Hey, Chief." Havoc said as calmly as possible, but Edward still jerked in surprise. He hadn't heard the man arrive either. "Colonel asked me to pick you up."

"Where's Roy?" Maes asked, curiously.

"At the hospital, dealing with some paperwork and I think trying to convince the staff not to restrain Ed to a bed."

"Really?" Edward asked, as he tensed up again.

"Might be a slight exaggeration, but not by much. You haven't endeared yourself much to the hospital staff have you?" Havoc cocked his head to the side, his eyes softened considerably as he took in Edward's state.

"Do I really have to go back?" Ed mumbled, as he gave a small pleading look at Hughes, but the man just shook his head at the boy.

"You've damaged your stitches, Ed. They're going to have to take a look." Maes stood up then, but Edward made no move to attempt to stand. He also ignored the hand Hughes offered him.

"Should I carry you, Chief?" Havoc asked, still with that cautious smile on his face.

"I can manage," Ed grumbled as he attempted to push himself off the floor with his own strength.

Edward managed for exactly one step, before he nearly fell over. Havoc promised not to tell anyone that he had to carry him the rest of the way and Ed believed him, finding himself too tired now to be properly embarrassed.

Roy didn't say a word when Edward was carried into the hospital by Havoc... Though Alphonse didn't give him much of a chance to speak anyway.

"Brother! What were you thinking?" Al had been worrying and pacing himself into a stage of agitation for nearly an hour. By the time Edward finally arrived, Alphonse's frustration had evolved into outrage.

"Sorry, Al. I needed to ask him a question-"

"I know! You told me you needed to! Edward, you could have told me! I would have even helped you." Alphonse's voice broke a little, "You didn't need to trick me. I could have helped. You didn't need to leave like that. You really scared me…And you're hurt again! What happened?" Al tugged at the white cloth, revealing the rest of the blood still soaking through Ed's shirt.

"I just knocked a few stitches loose. It's not a big deal, Al."

"It's not a big deal? It's not a big deal! You -You're a stupid jerk!" Alphonse then suddenly turned and stalked away quickly down the hallway.

"Al, hang on. Wait!" Ed called after his brother, but it was no use. He squirmed in Havoc's arms, but the man held tight.

"Where do you think you're going, Chief?"

"I need to go after him."

"Sure, Chief. I know you'll be running through the halls in no time, but let's get you checked out first." Havoc then turned and walked quickly into Ed's waiting hospital room. Edward wiggled halfheartedly in protest, but didn't seem to have the energy to free himself. Havoc sat him on the bed as gently as he could, but Ed couldn't help wincing when his stomach wrenched from the movement.

"Sorry," Havoc mumbled, but Edward just shook his head.

"I'm fine." Ed insisted, which earned him a small smirk from the second lieutenant. Roy had followed them into the room and was severely scrutinizing the blood seeping through Edward's shirt.

"You're dismissed, Lieutenant." Roy spoke to the first time. Havoc raised his eyebrows and grinned at Ed. The expression quickly fell away as he turned to his superior officer and gave him a brisk nod.

"Yes, sir."

"Mustang, I need to go after Al." Ed meant to swing his legs over the side of the bed, but he was barely able to shift his body slightly to the right.

"No, Fullmetal." Roy stated. He didn't sound angry, but he definitely wasn't completely calm either.

Edward frowned, ready to argue, but Roy beat him to it.

"This is what is going to happen, Fullmetal. You are going to sit and be quiet while the staff checks you over and replaces the stitches you have torn out. Then, once your brother cools down and returns, I will leave. You will not be leaving this room again until you are properly discharged. Do I make myself clear?"

"You don't need to babysit me," Ed sulked.

"The hospital staff would disagree. Do I make myself clear?"

Edward slowly nodded with a deep scowl on his face. He could see that he was in no shape to win this argument.

While Edward's cuts were attended to by a very sour faced nurse, Roy couldn't help surveying the damage for himself. He would have liked to say that once the blood was cleaned up, it really wasn't so bad, but the cuts on Ed's stomach were quite swollen and red. Thankfully, his stitches elsewhere were still intact.

Surprisingly, Edward was able to hold very still while the nurse set to work disinfecting and sewing Ed's skin together again. Edward stared silently at the ceiling throughout the process and barely winced as he was prodded at. Just as the nurse was about to begin bandaging his torso up again, Edward broke the tense silence.

"Could you tell Hughes that Adalbert is across the river and behind the waterfalls?" Edward was motioning to the cuts nearest his heart. The nurse hesitated briefly before continuing her work. Roy stared blankly at the cuts that were soon hidden with gauze.

"You have a map on your chest." Roy had seen it, but it hadn't dawned on him until then.

"Yeah." Edward looked annoyed that Mustang seemed so slow to catch on.

"…Hughes said something about that," Roy recalled a somewhat fuzzy, intoxicated memory from a few nights ago. A list of swear words raced through Mustang's mind rather quickly. In the beginning, he thought he had seen a pattern to those marks, but he had forgotten about them, overcome with thoughts of getting Edward the medical attention he needed. The last thing Ed needed were scars that detailed the whereabouts of a murdered four year old scrawled permanently across his heart. For not the first time, Roy Mustang found he was glad that Warren Pace was dead. His only regret was that he hadn't been able to end the bastard himself.

"Tell him the about the waterfalls." Edward said, ignoring his superior officer's scowling gaze. With a shake of his head Roy brought himself back to the moment at hand.

"I will tell him." Roy nearly choked on the words, not realizing how his mouth had gone very dry suddenly.

"Colonel?"

"Yes?" Roy managed to say in a steady voice.

"I won't leave again."

Roy bit the inside of his cheek as he decided not to make any sort of sarcastic remark. Instead he gave a curt nod. Ed kept his gaze for a moment before letting his eyes drift to the ceiling again where he stared emotionlessly while the nurse finished wrapping his chest, hiding the disturbing map from view once more.

"He was clean," Hughes said loudly as he shoved paperwork in Roy's face. The Colonel had only just woken up and he had yet to consume any coffee. The last thing he was expecting was for Maes Hughes to show up at his door, first thing in the morning, with an autopsy report that he probably wasn't supposed to have taken out of the office in the first place. Roy blinked at the small text, but he was having trouble bringing it into focus.

"What?" Roy managed. Hughes gave the report an impatient shake.

"Warren Pace's blood came back negative for everything."

Roy still blinked for a moment. In the back of his mind he realized he was still wearing his white shirt and military slacks from the previous day. Apparently, he hadn't bothered to change out of them last night. He must have been more exhausted then he thought.

What time was it anyway? He felt like he had only just closed his eyes, when he had been jarred awake by the loud knocking on his door. He had quickly stumbled to open the front door, mostly so that the incessant knocking would stop. His mind had not entirely woken up yet. Hughes sighed in exasperation.

"You told me you wanted to know when the bloodwork came back. You were worried about Edward coming into contact with Pace's blood."

A brief recollection floated through Roy's mind.

"Was that when I was drunk?"

"No… well, maybe a little. You hadn't fallen on the floor yet. I thought you would remember. It's not exactly typical drunken conversation."

"His blood was clean?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Roy managed. While obviously the thought had crossed his mind at some point when he was drinking with Hughes… he hadn't had time or energy to think more about it. Since then he had spent his time being slightly hungover and tired and then he had been preoccupied with thoughts of haircuts and certain alchemists escaping hospital rooms.

Roy stepped aside and allowed Hughes to enter his home. Once Maes was through the door, Roy made his way to the kitchen to start making the coffee he desperately needed. After he shut the door behind him, Hughes hovered in the kitchen doorway, talking mostly for the sake of talking.

"The autopsy report took too long to get back to me. There was a bunch of confusion over who submitted what paperwork and when. Which is a bunch of bureaucratic nonsense. I've been in charge of this investigation for a while now and they said I didn't have the clearance, so I had to redo all the paperwork and present proof that I've taken it over… Roy did you sleep on your couch?"

Mustang turned at the abrupt change in topic and found his friend staring at the couch cushions that were in disarray and the blanket that had fallen to the floor when he had woken up to answer the door.

"I was tired, that was the closest surface fit for sleeping." Roy picked up a piece of paper on the counter and held it out to Hughes. "Fullmetal told me to tell you that Adalbert is behind the waterfalls. I sketched out what I could remember. I don't know if it will be much help though."

Hughes looked confused for a moment as he took the paper. Then realization dawned on him.

"The map on his chest…"

"Yes."

Hughes studied the rough sketch for a moment. "I have some men looking near there, I will tell them to go further across the river."

Roy gave a nod and began searching for a clean mug for his coffee. He was debating whether or not he was feeling up to eating breakfast when Hughes spoke up again.

"Roy, are you going into work today?"

"Later. I was informed I should take the morning off, since I've been nearly useless at paperwork recently." Mustang rubbed a hand over his face and brushed short strands of hair off of his forehead. "I've told Havoc to escort Fullmetal from the hospital back to his dorm when he is released."

"You don't want to be there when he's released?"

"…No. I've had enough of hospitals for now. Besides he seems to get along fine with Havoc." Unable to find a clean cup, Roy began washing one the dirty mugs that had been set on his counter.

Maes mulled over his thoughts for a moment. If Ed was still on track to be released today, then the damage to his stitches might not have been that bad… or the hospital staff had just had enough of him.

"I will stop by to visit him later... Are you sure everything is all right?"

"Yes, why?" Roy asked as he scrubbed a bit too hard at his dishware.

"Just checking… You know… Ed did well yesterday… with the Pace brother. All things considered, he handled it well." Hughes studied Roy's shoulders as they tensed for the briefest moment before he continued cleaning out his cup.

"Did he?" Roy asked, his voice pitched slightly lower than normal

"As well as possible, I think. You would have been proud of him."

Roy began pouring coffee into his cleaned mug and turned towards his friend with a slight smirk.

"You look like shit, Hughes. Stop worrying about the state of the rest of the world and get some sleep."

Hughes scratched his head and let out a huff of a laugh. He couldn't think about sleep yet though, he still had a lot of work to do.

"Thanks for that, Roy. I will keep it in mind."

"There is nothing to regret - either for those who go or for those who are left behind."

Eleanor Roosevelt

Neither Roy or Maes were able to sleep on the train. It was too warm and too many people were wandering the aisles. It made it impossible to fully relax.

"Ed is meeting us at the station." Hughes said for the tenth time. Roy nodded and stretched out his legs as far as he could. "It feels like it's been a long time since I've seen him," Hughes remarked absently.

"Three weeks." Roy clarified, staring out the window at the world passing by.

"Do you think Alphonse will be with him?"

Roy sighed through his nose. "Are you having second thoughts about inviting him along?"

"No… no. When I talked to him, he insisted on being here for it. He wanted to make sure I wasn't just going to send out a letter or something."

Roy sighed again, but made no further comment. The trip out to the small town had been long and Roy found he was eager for this whole ordeal to be over and put behind them. For all their sakes.

"I'm just not sure… Is it too much? The three of us?" Hughes wrinkled his brow in worry.

"Are you regretting inviting me along?" Roy glanced at his friend with a raised eyebrow.

"No. That's not… No." Hughes shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"I can wait for you at the station. You and Ed can go talk to the family. I don't actually need to be there."

"You came all this way just to sit in a train station?"

"No." Roy gave Maes a deadpan expression. "Hughes, make no mistake. I have no desire to speak personally to this family about their dead son. My concern for the Barringers is limited."

Hughes smiled gently and followed his friend's gaze as it shifted to the window again. Trees and little homes dotted among green fields, passed by quickly. Maes wondered if the people living there were as peaceful as their small houses seemed to be.

Edward was waiting for them on the slightly crowded platform. The three weeks of being back in Risembool had done him some good. He wasn't so pale and the stitches had been removed from his cheek. The scar that had been left behind was still prominent, but it was beginning to fade. He still carried dark circles under his eyes and Hughes wondered if the boy was having trouble sleeping. His hair had finally been trimmed more neatly and while it was much too short to tie back, it was starting to grow out again. Maes waved enthusiastically to get Ed's attention.

"Hey, Ed!" Hughes shouted over the bustle. Edward turned, looking slightly surprised, but he gave an incredibly weak smile upon seeing Maes. Both officers made their way over to the boy, while Ed stayed still and let the people flurry around him. Hughes forced a wider grin once they were both standing before him.

"You're looking well." He's lost weight. Hughes tried not to notice the way his clothes seemed to be looser. "Thanks for coming all this way."

"It's not too far from Risembool." Ed said with a shrug. "Thanks for letting me come along."

"You've lost weight." Mustang said by way of greeting. Ed blinked for a moment.

"You found some," Ed remarked. Mustang narrowed his eyes, but Hughes cut in quickly.

"We should get going. We have to catch our train back in a few hours."

Ed gave a shrug and headed out of the station. Hughes followed quickly, taking a moment to observe how Edward was carrying himself. He seemed to walk with no problems, but Hughes wondered at the range of motion for his arm. Was he still having trouble moving it? Or was it completely fixed now? Hughes really didn't know much about automail and he found that he could probably benefit from some research in the area.

"You know where you're going, Fullmetal?" Roy asked in a bored tone. Edward glanced back at them both and rolled his eyes.

"It's a small enough town. Everything's connected to the main road and everyone knows each other. Wouldn't be too hard to find it, even without the address."

"He's right. It shouldn't be too far from the main road," Hughes supplied. "You are coming along then?" Maes directed this question at Roy, who seemed to be intent on walking with them.

"I will make sure the two of you don't manage to get lost."

"I have a great sense of direction, Colonel Bastard," Ed called back over his shoulder. Roy smirked, but didn't comment.

"He looks… better," Hughes muttered quietly. Roy nodded.

"Compared to before when he was in the hospital, yes he does."

The arrival at the Barringer home was done in silence. It was a modest house, set a bit farther back from the road. The yard was small and contained only dying grass and a few bare shrubs. While not falling into disrepair, there was a gloomy air about it. It did not look inviting. They stood before its small wooden gate for a moment, not daring to speak. Mustang broke the dismal quiet first.

"I'll wait here. No sense in all of us crowding their doorstep."

Hughes gave a nod before he started up the walk with Edward following close behind.

"You all right, Ed?" Hughes asked as they reached the porch steps.

"I don't want to be here that long." Ed gave his head a toss, a quirk leftover from when his hair was long and he would reposition the braid on his back. As if realizing what he had just done, Edward frowned deeply. "Let's just get this over with."

"You didn't need to come along to this." Hughes reached to knock sharply on the door and the sound seemed to reverberate through the small home. A moment went by and Maes thought that nobody might be home.

"I did," Edward near whispered and before Maes could say another word to him, the door opened with a loud creak.

A tall young man with brown hair and large brown eyes stood before them. The man gave Hughes' military uniform a wary look, but his expression changed when his eyes fell upon Edward. A dull flicker of recognition and then disbelief crossed his features, but he said nothing.

"Hey Sam," Ed greeted in a hushed tone. The young man crinkled his brow for a moment.

"Edward Elric," Samuel said and a slight smile lifted the corner of his mouth. "You've grown up."

Ed gave a nod and swallowed thickly. It felt too warm all of a sudden and Edward found himself quickly regretting his decision to come here today. No. He had to face this. This was the only way he would be able to sleep at night again. Sam Barringer was looking at him with mild confusion and concern now and Hughes didn't seem to know if he should speak up or not.

"Sam," Ed started, "It's about Kaleb…"

Samuel Barringer's mother had passed away five years prior and his father had only outlived her by another year. They hadn't been the same after Kaleb's body was found that day years ago. Moving away from Risembool and trying to start a new life, had not eased the suffering the family had felt.

There was no relief on Samuel's face when Hughes told him that his brother's murderer had been caught and killed during the course of the investigation. He had given the barest of details of the case and had left Edward's part out of it completely. Edward stood, straight-faced throughout the explanation and didn't say anything.

"Doesn't really change anything, does it?" Samuel asked as he leaned his head against the doorframe. "Kaleb's still dead… it's…doesn't..."

Edward bit down hard on his lip.

"But…" Samuel's eyes softened, "It's good to finally know what happened... who was responsible. I'm… glad he won't hurt anyone else. Thank you."

"I didn't want you to have to read about it in a letter," Edward suddenly blurted. "I thought you should be told… in person by someone."

"Thank you, Edward." A real smile crept onto Samuel's face and the deep sadness there retreated for a moment. "Kaleb always liked you. Talked about you all the time. He thought you were great."

Edward felt his throat close up and he wondered if he was going to suffocate from the amount of pressure he felt. He managed a nod before he turned away and started back down the steps. Maes said something to the young man that was completely lost as Edward felt a buzzing fill his ears. He didn't know how long he was walking before he felt a pair of hands grab him and force him to stop.

Something white floated into his vision… a handkerchief… Edward realized that there were familiar voices around him and they were calling his name.

"Edward, stop biting your lip." Hughes. Calm, but with that worried undertone that he had lately whenever he spoke.

"What the hell happened?" Colonel Mustang. Sounding much too irritated.

"Roy, just give him a minute. Ed, you can hear me? You're fine. It's all right." Hughes gently pressed his handkerchief to Edward's bottom lip, staunching the small trickle of blood.

"You heard what he said?" Ed choked out, tasting blood in his mouth, feeling the cloth wipe against his mouth... "I hated him so m-much." The taste of blood in his mouth… that was something he didn't want to think about. Blood dripping, soaking a cloth gag that made it so hard to breathe as dead eyes stared at him from above and he was stuck, unable to move and in pain and so scared and ashamed and-

Edward was being hugged then. The sudden closeness and restriction of his movement should have terrified him, but instead he felt a sense of familiarity. The scent of the horrible harsh soap they used to clean the military uniforms and the smell of the aftershave of a man he had allowed himself to trust even if he was sure he was going to regret it later. The murmuring of familiar assurances filled his ears. "You were a child. You're all right. You're all right."

Ed felt himself returning to the current situation. He was in a small town near Risembool. He was with Hughes and Colonel Bastard. And he was being hugged by Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes in the middle of the road.

"I am so grateful for you Edward and I am so glad that you are still here."

Edward felt his lungs finally open up. There was air again. He sighed in relief. Hughes loosened his grip on the boy enough so that he could look into his eyes.

"All right?" Maes asked. Ed gave a nod and then looked away, embarrassed at being coddled.

"We are in the middle of the street. Could we please move this over to the side?" Roy sounded so uncomfortable that Hughes laughed. Maes removed one arm from around Edward and looped it around his friend's shoulders, pulling him close to his side.

"I'm grateful for you too, Roy."

"Get off me, you idiot. We're going to miss our train if you keep carrying on like this."

Hughes steered Edward and Roy back to the side of the road, refusing to let either of them go. As he began walking toward the station, Mustang tried his best to escape and began hurling insults at his friend. Hughes laughed harder than he had in a long time.

Edward smiled.

The End