Misery's Shadow

Edward burst through the Colonel's door with a frantic sort of energy that caused Mustang's pen to go off to the side, creating a line that shot straight off the form he had been signing. He swore at the new ink mark on his desktop.

"My report." Edward said in a clipped tone. He set the short stack of papers down in the center of the desk before backing up a few feet and crossing his arms. Roy studied him for a moment. Fullmetal had been away for only one week and he hadn't expected him back for a few more days. He certainly hadn't expected the report to be ready so soon. Mustang stared, taking in Edward's appearance. His golden hair had grown out again, and it looked nearly back to normal. It was good to see him not limping or attempting to hide winces of pain. However, there were circles under his eyes and his hair was mussed, as though the boy had been unconsciously pulling at it. Overall, Ed looked restless as he fidgeted in place.

Something was wrong. Why else would Edward willingly come to his office before he absolutely had to?

It had been about two months since Edward had stayed with Roy and, for the most part, they had been able to continue on as though nothing had happened. The Colonel thought that Fullmetal must have been doing well. He had been looking better…However, looking at him now…

"What's wrong?" Mustang wouldn't tiptoe around the topic. Not if it concerned Edward's health. Not if there was even the slightest chance that Ed was struggling. He had promised himself that he wouldn't let Ed fall so far ever again.

"Nothing." Edward wasn't always cooperative though. Roy weighed his options carefully in his mind. After a moment, he finally set his pen down and picked up Edward's report. He let his eyes scan over the document. The writing was messy, written down in haste with a disregard for grammatical rules. It was a pretty standard Fullmetal report then.

"Sit down." Mustang commanded, motioning to a chair that was set to the side of the room. Edward glanced at the object and then back at the Colonel quickly with his eyes narrowed.

"No, I can't." Ed responded tersely. The report was set down resolutely on the desk and Roy folded his hands on top of it. Slight panic and unease crept into the Colonel's mind, but he kept his expression calm. Edward not wanting to sit could just mean that he was having a bad day, a stressful day. It could mean that the nightmares were back. It doesn't mean he's using morphine again, Roy reminded himself.

Edward rolled his eyes and tapped the heel of his boot hard against the ground. "It's not what you think."

This didn't give Roy any sense of relief. "I've heard that before, Edward. What's going on?"

"It's nothing."

Alarm bells rang in the Colonel's mind. It was never 'nothing' with Edward. It was always something and in the past few months it was always something life threatening.

"You agreed you would tell someone if you were having problems again. You said you would talk to us if you started craving." Because that's what this was, wasn't it? Post-acute withdrawal the reading materials had said. Mood swings, anxiety, irritability, disturbed sleep…

"Do you still keep whiskey in your desk?" Edward bit out the remark.

"That's not the same-"

"Bullshit, Mustang."

Roy raised an eyebrow and, for a moment, Ed did look guilty for snapping. Mood swings. The boy certainly sounded like he did in those first few days of withdrawal…

"I didn't mean to say that. That's not what I meant to say." Edward pressed the palms of his hands hard into his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "I didn't come here to argue with you," Ed finally said.

"What's going on then?" The Colonel was still calm, calm and only slightly terrified.

"I haven't taken anything. No, really, I swear I haven't. I've just been… having trouble sleeping." Edward stared at the floor, as if he was embarrassed by the admission.

"Any particular reason?"

"Sam Barringer is dead." It was said so quickly, that the words didn't register with Mustang at first.

"What?" Roy actually gaped in surprise, because that is not what he had been expecting Fullmetal to say. Sam Barringer, older brother of Kaleb Barringer, who had been one of the first victims of the serial killer Warren Pace. Edward hadn't spoken about either of them in months. Mustang had been prepared for something about nightmares or maybe even a confession of craving again.

"We were going through that area and I checked in on him. The people there told me that it was reported as an accidental poisoning by strychnine, but… I don't think… I don't think it was..." Edward looked up at the Colonel, hoping that the man would understand what he couldn't say.

"You think he killed himself," Roy responded flatly.

Ed nodded and Mustang remained still. The air seemed to be sucked out of the room. It was too warm and the sudden silence was stifling. This conversation seemed to be hanging by a thread of emotion and Roy was listening for the snap of the strands breaking.

"I thought… I thought I helped him. I thought he could find peace… so I don't know why… I don't know… I don't…"

"Edward, take a breath." Roy was standing now, carefully making his way around his desk.

"It's my fault."

"No, Edward. You know that's not right. You aren't responsible. Breathe slowly." Mustang was within arm's reach, slowly, carefully coming closer.

"I know that's what everyone says, but things… terrible, awful things keep happening. And it feels like my fault. It feels so much like all my damn fault." Edward kicked out, his boot connected with the desk with a loud bang. Once, twice… the third kick never landed because Mustang was grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away towards the center of the room. The Colonel couldn't just stand by, waiting to see if Ed could handle having someone being so close to him. Because Roy knew that the boy was using his flesh foot against the heavy wooden desk and there was no way in hell he would let Edward hurt himself right in front of him ever again.

Ed lost his footing and nearly stumbled to the floor. Mustang's grip tightened, keeping the boy from falling over completely. Edward twisted out of Roy's grip, staggering away several paces and clumsily catching himself against the wall. He slowly doubled over, resting his hands on his knees; he looked like he was going to be sick.

"Don't touch me." Ed ground out and Roy felt like he had been punched in the stomach. This was so much like last time, was Edward really set back to where he was before?

"Don't hurt yourself," Mustang said quietly. He stepped away, giving Ed space, hoping it would be enough. "Just breathe."

"I am breathing," Ed snapped. It was true, Edward was taking in great noisy breaths, but they were too short, frantic… Mustang clenched his teeth and said nothing. He watched as Ed continued breathing, trying to regain control of his lungs again.

"Where's your brother?" Roy asked. It was hopefully a benign topic. Something that could serve as a distraction and not a stressor.

"Library," Ed answered after a moment. Mustang felt idiotic standing there, doing nothing, he had to keep talking at least.

"Does Alphonse know about Samuel Barringer?"

"He believes the story. That it was an accident." Edward's breathing was slowing down and he swallowed hard against the nausea he was still feeling.

"It may have been an accident, Edward. And even if Samuel Barringer killed himself, it wasn't your fault. He obviously had some other issues that he couldn't work through…"

"Because of his brother; because he died and that was because of me too!" Ed was pressing his palms hard into his eyes again and Roy thought he might sink to the floor. He certainly looked as though he was falling apart, deteriorating right in front of him. Like watching fine threads snapping from strain.

"I'm calling Hughes," the Colonel muttered.

"I don't need Hughes here." Edward spat out.

"I'm not calling him for you."

This made Edward look up at the Colonel. He was so busy with his breakdown, he hadn't realized what he was doing. He was scaring the Colonel… again. He couldn't keep doing this, he needed to pull it together. He was sick of being the cause of Mustang's worry and concern. He was going to destroy him too, just like he had destroyed Kaleb and now Sam…

"I don't want him to see me." Ed swallowed down the vomit that had begun to creep up his throat. Then, just like that, his walls went up. He wouldn't do this anymore. He would protect the Colonel from his destructive behavior. Mustang had been inconvenienced enough by him. With too much effort, Edward forced himself to stand up straight. He was so tired... It would be so easy to give in, to be weak, but he couldn't… Once he was fully upright, he glanced at the chair. In three halting steps, Edward dragged himself to it and sat down heavily. "See?" Ed croaked. "It's fine. I'm fine."

Mustang didn't buy the act. "Yeah, I've heard that before. I'm going to put you on leave again. Take a few weeks off."

"No!" Edward nearly lurched from the seat, but he caught himself and eased further back into the chair, clearing his throat. "Just… no, I've already wasted too much time. If you have a lead on the Philosopher's stone, you have to let me know. I can't keep wasting time and I can't just sit around doing nothing. I can't. It's better if I keep busy. Please, Colonel."

In the end, it was the use of the word 'please' that did it. Edward never said please for anything… if the kid was that desperate to get away, to keep busy, maybe it would be for the best…

"Well, I was going to have you go West, but it's far out. I don't know if you should…"

"It's fine. I promise. I'll do better if I keep busy." Edward's voice sounded strong then, the remnants of his panic attack being pushed away with determination. If Roy was in the same situation, he would want to keep busy as well, maybe this was the better option.

"Alright, but you need to call here to check in every day," Roy acquiesced. "If you start having problems, you need to tell Alphonse and come back. Don't be stubborn about this."

"I won't be. I swear."

Roy sighed. He felt a gnawing at his gut that told him this didn't feel right, but Ed looked desperate. If he forced him to stay in the city, it could make him worse. Besides, maybe being out in a different environment would do the young alchemist some good.

"All right, you can leave in three days. Get some rest before then."

Ed gave him a grateful smile. He could make it through this. He wasn't broken. He would prove to them that he could do this.

9 days later, the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric was officially reported as missing.

To Colonel Roy Mustang, The Flame Alchemist,

Your request for temporary transfer to the West City Investigations Department, Search Division has been denied. Colonel Judson Barrows has been assigned to the missing person case of Edward Elric, The Fullmetal Alchemist. Your assistance is not required at this time. Colonel Barrows has extensive knowledge of the area and many years of qualified experience. The West City Investigation office will keep in contact with your team as details come to light.

Respectfully,

Brigadier General Allen Hasling

West City Command

Colonel Mustang,

Your letter requesting an appeal of the decision of denying your temporary transfer, has been reviewed. Central Command does not see it as necessary at this time to override the decisions made by the West City officials in regards to this matter…

With a snap, the letter was burning before Roy had finished reading it. Brightly glowing cinders fluttered about his office before dying out on the carpet.

Hughes had been trying to contact Mustang all day, but things kept getting in his way. Then, when he finally got a call out to Roy's office, the Colonel wasn't there. Apparently, he had stepped out to try and follow up on a vague lead that he had. Maes had found himself swamped at work with a sudden influx of paperwork and he was scrambling to find time to check on Roy. There had been brief words with Hawkeye the other day, enough to know that the Colonel wasn't doing as well as he would like them to believe.

Because it had taken Roy four days to realize that something was very wrong. Four days to realize that Edward wasn't just ignoring him or being stubborn. Then it took another five days for Mustang to convince the higher ups that the Fullmetal Alchemist wasn't just out of touch or taking his time returning calls. Nine days total. Nine days before Edward was officially reported as missing. Now, it had been two weeks since Edward had contacted Roy to let him know that he had arrived safely to his destination and 'don't worry' he was feeling 'fine.' Two weeks without a single word or even a hint of what had happened to the boy and his brother. And that's what really caused alarm. Even if Edward was being stubborn, surely Al would have called to let them know that they were both all right. But there had been no call. There was just silence.

Through multiple correspondences, Mustang and his team eventually pieced together that Edward had arrived in the town of Tareswell. He had checked into the small town's inn and then he had left with his brother and nobody could tell for sure if they had ever returned to the room. Nobody could even give a direction that the two may have traveled in.

Roy was pretty sure he was stuck in some kind of nightmare. Every lead he thought he had, never worked out. If he could just go there himself, he could take care of this, he needed to take care of this… but nobody was listening and people were giving him pitying looks in the hallway and Hawkeye was suggesting he go home to get some rest because he hadn't properly slept in over a week and he couldn't remember the last thing he even ate, but he remembered throwing it up because there were knots in his stomach, knots and damned barbed wire squeezing his gut all the time and he couldn't stand this anymore, not for one more damn second…

"I'm here."

Hughes. Speaking breathlessly as if he had just run a great distance. "I'm sorry," Maes continued. "I couldn't get away sooner."

"Hawkeye called you," Roy said dully.

"She didn't have to. I heard your request to take your team to be part of a search party was denied again."

"News travels fast." Mustang turned away from Maes, who was leaning in too close, it made the room seem so much smaller. Everything seemed to be crowding in on Roy. It was suffocating.

"I'm taking you home."

"I'm not going home. I'm staying here. I have leads to follow up on."

"You don't have leads. You have wild guesses. Come on." Maes reached out and tugged at the Colonel's jacket sleeve. Mustang jerked away from the contact violently.

"Damnit Hughes, I'm not leaving!"

Maes was unfazed by the outburst, but it still worried him deeply. With a grim expression, Hughes leaned down and grabbed Roy's shoulders firmly.

"Roy, have you seen yourself? Nobody is going to approve you to go anywhere. You look like shit."

It was true. His uniform was crumpled, his hair was in disarray and he was too pale with large circles under his eyes. Mustang felt as though all of his muscles gave out at once as he leaned back in his chair, away from Maes' hold on him.

"When was the last time you slept?" Hughes turned and opened the bottom drawer of the desk, checking the whiskey bottle that resided there. It was still full.

"Yesterday morning. Tuesday."

"Yeah? On Tuesday?" Hughes shut the drawer with a snap.

"Yes. Tuesday."

"Today is Friday, Roy. Tuesday was days ago." Maes straightened up and set his hands on his hips sternly.

"I meant Thursday."

"You're done for the day, Roy. Your staff has agreed that you need to go home. Slowly killing yourself is not going to help you find Edward."

At the mention of Ed's name, something indescribable came over Mustang's expression. For the first time, in a long time, Roy looked truly lost. Hughes slowly knelt in front of his friend as the weight on the Colonel's shoulders took its toll.

"Where the hell is he?" Roy asked in a near whisper. Maes was soon clasping Mustang's elbows, carefully, carefully keeping him from falling apart.

"I don't know. I'm so sorry, I don't know... I'm sorry I was so late getting here, Roy."

In a haze, Mustang soon found his feet carrying him out of his office, feeling the weight of Maes' arm around his shoulders, guiding him to the exit. The Colonel was distantly aware of his subordinates looking his way, trying to hide their concern. However, the Colonel had enough clarity to realize that something was wrong with the room and he stopped abruptly before his feet could reach the door.

"Where's Havoc?" Mustang asked, nearly twisting out of Hughes' grip. Roy's eyes looked wild as they darted over to the empty chair.

"Sent home." Riza provided quietly from somewhere to his left. The room seemed to be clouding over. Everything started to blur together as Mustang's head pounded in protest of the sudden movement. "Lieutenant Havoc is unwell." Hawkeye. She always knew how to sound professional and levelheaded when the world was falling apart.

Truthfully, Edward's disappearance was wearing on them all, but it had hit Havoc a bit harder. He had become close to the Elric brothers, particularly Edward, who he had helped to care for when the boy was sick. Jean hadn't slept right in a week and when he walked in late that morning, Hawkeye had instructed him to go right back home. He had looked dead on his feet and it was obvious that he wouldn't be of any use to anyone. Unlike the Colonel, he didn't fight the dismissal, to be honest all he wanted to do was go back to bed and sleep, maybe when he woke up he would realize that he had been dreaming this whole time and the Elric brothers were just fine. The next time he saw them, Ed would laugh at him for worrying so much.

Roy stared at Havoc's seat and felt despair pull at his gut. His team was growing smaller and smaller by the day. And now here he was, giving up, not able to function, not able to do anything anymore. Useless. Useless.

Damn it all.

"Let's go," Hughes murmured behind him as he pressed his hand into his back. Without another word, Mustang walked out the door, too exhausted to fight anymore.

Roy hadn't been home in days. Instead he had been sleeping on his couch in his office or not at all. So when Hughes asked him if he had any food in his house, Mustang had laughed in his face and Maes was sure that his friend was losing it.

Sleep became the priority; food would have to come later. Roy changed out of his uniform, which had been, quite frankly, beginning to smell terrible. With very little coaxing, Mustang collapsed into bed and shut his eyes. He needed to sleep. He was sick with the need for it. He could feel the exhaustion muddling his thoughts, harboring his decisions, fraying his nerves, but still his mind stumbled on. Guilt and panic and worry… As his heart pounded too hard in his chest, Roy wondered if he could die from this feeling.

"I shouldn't have let him go." Mustang's voice was muffled by the pillow, but Hughes heard every word as the Colonel continued on, fighting back sleep the entire time. "He was… he was acting like he did before. I knew he was upset and I still let him go."

Hughes shifted. He was sitting on the bed next to Roy, propped up against the headboard, settled in for a long day of watching and guarding. Maes only ever sat this close when he was really scared for Roy. As if his proximity could help keep Mustang from breaking apart.

"What do you think happened?" Hughes asked quietly. Mustang was supposed to be going to sleep, but Maes couldn't help it. He hadn't had any opportunity to speak with Roy in days. Mustang turned his head, glancing up at Maes, studying his friend's features. He had circles under his eyes too, clearly the man hadn't been sleeping well either, but he would suffer in silence until he was sure that Roy was all right. Because Maes put others first. That's just the way he was. It was because of Maes that Roy could allow himself to be selfish. Selfish and weak.

"Who knows?" Roy shut his eyes, feeling the exhaustion burning there. "He got captured, he overdosed, he got lost, he ran away, he got himself killed…"

"Al is with him." Maes cut him off before the Colonel could get too far in this line of thinking. "How many of those options are really possible when he has Al with him?"

"It means something happened to Al too. There are groups who hate the State out there. One of them could have taken them both."

"There has been no ransom demanded, no terrorist group has come forward to claim responsibility. He went to Tareswell, right? He wasn't far enough West to run into problems with Creta, though, if he was going to have problems, it would be with that country. We have more and more disputes with them every day. But, for now, everything has been mostly quiet on that end. I don't think they have been captured and I don't see how they would get lost for this long." Hughes took a deep breath. "Edward wouldn't just run away. Not when he has Alphonse with him."

"Sam Barringer killed himself."

"What?" Maes asked in disbelief, startled by the shift in topic.

"He took strychnine and committed suicide. Fullmetal told me. So what the hell was the point? What was the damn point of any of it?"

"Wait, are you sure? Why would he… that's not a pleasant way to go. Maybe it was an accident."

"Edward didn't think so. I don't think so either."

Hughes sighed deeply. "Just sleep, Roy. It's going to be all right," Maes finally said. There was a long moment of silence that was broken by the Colonel's voice.

"You… don't know that," Mustang mumbled, sounding far away. Before Maes could think of a proper retort, he realized that the Colonel's breathing had evened out and he had finally dropped off to sleep. Now that he was alone with his thoughts, Hughes grimaced, feeling a powerlessness grip at his heart. Edward had to be all right. He just has to be.

When Roy next awoke, it was dark and he was alone. Still half asleep, he struggled to find the lamp. Once the light was turned on, Mustang blearily glanced around the room.

"Maes?" He rasped, his voice scratchy from sleep and dehydration. Mustang sat up, but his head was throbbing and he collapsed back into his pillows with a groan. With one hand pressing hard into his forehead, he reached out to turn the lamp back off. Through his fingers his eyes caught sight of that ugly lamp, with the skull and flame design that Ed had transmuted for him months ago. Roy hadn't bothered changing it back, or getting a new lamp after Edward had "fixed" it. Now, as it caught his eye, all he could do was stare at it. Something dark and ugly unfurled in his chest and he felt like he was going to choke on it. Without hesitation, Mustang reached over and shoved the lamp off the bedside table. It hit the ground with a thump and the bulb shattered, casting the room again into darkness. With the light gone, the pounding in his head diminished and Roy felt the pressure in his chest ease.

There were a few moments of blissful silence before Maes entered the room to investigate the noise. Roy grumbled and covered his eyes as he turned on the overhead light. Hughes sighed when he saw the lamp on the floor.

"All right." Maes muttered, it wasn't a question but just an acknowledgment of the situation. Roy didn't say anything, instead he pushed his palms hard into his eyes.

"What are you doing Roy?" Hughes asked quietly as he sat carefully on the edge of the bed. Mustang didn't answer, but he let his hands fall away from his face and he stared at the light in his ceiling, even though it sent a stabbing pain through his skull.

"I know you're not giving up on him." Hughes was studying his own hands. Mustang thought he looked particularly tired in that moment. Putting others first was always exhausting.

"No," Roy answered quickly, but his voice sounded so much weaker than he meant it to. "Never."

"Then you need to take a shower and eat something."

Roy looked confused, sensing a change in Maes' demeanor.

"Sergeant Fuery just called. I was just coming back up from talking to him."

Mustang slowly sat up, apprehension taking hold.

"Your office just received report that Ed and Al were both seen five days ago near the town of Howlseye."

"Are they all right? Are they- is he hurt?" Roy was pushing away blankets, fighting to free his feet. Hughes stood up to get out of his way.

"There wasn't any more information given." Maes said quietly. "They said they would send another report when they know more."

Roy froze, his eyes darting around as he took in the information or, rather, the lack of information.

"I hate the western offices," Mustang finally bit out.

"They're not fond of you either, apparently." Hughes actually smiled at that, but it was tinged with that consistent underlying sadness.

"I'm going to Howlseye." Roy stared at Maes with a renewed determination, prepared for an argument with Hughes about his health.

"Of course you are." Maes said with that sad grin on his face. "But shower first and then we will find something to eat. You should always look presentable when you go against the orders of your superiors."

Before long, Hughes and Mustang were walking to the train station. It was dark and cold. The sky had been threatening to snow for a few days now. For the sake of easier traveling, Hughes hoped it would hold off a little longer. The two of them didn't speak as they stood on the platform, waiting for the last late train that would head out west. Roy would need to switch trains at some point to take a different track to Howlseye, but he hoped the duration of the trip wouldn't be more than a few hours.

"I can come help you as soon as I can sneak away for a few days," Hughes said, his voice nearly lost in the sound of the approaching train.

Roy nodded, but all of his attention was already elsewhere; Maes guessed his mind was already in Howleye, making plans.

As the train pulled into the station, Hughes clasped his hand around Mustang's elbow.

"Take care of yourself. You won't be of any use to him if you run yourself into the ground."

"Yes, fine." Mustang was flustered over Hughes' concern. Honestly, he wasn't completely inept; he had slept and he had eaten now, he could take care of himself for a few days.

"Roy…" Maes started and Mustang gave him an exasperated look. Hughes smiled and finally released the Colonel's arm. "Find Ed, bring him back."

"I will," Mustang promised.

"Brother, do you think the smugglers are using the river?"

"They could be. There's nothing 'round for miles. No other towns or anything. But the river connects everything." As Ed finished speaking, the ground beneath his foot gave way and he was forced to clumsily stumble backwards.

"Careful!" Alphonse warned.

"I'm fine. Let's look around." Ed stuck his hands in his pockets and continued walking along the bank.

Truthfully, there wasn't much to see. The west was made up of vast plains and rocky hills jutting out from the ground. The gathering of trees that surrounded the small town they were visiting was the closest thing there was to a forest for miles. Mainly out of curiosity, the Elric brothers had gone exploring and had followed the large river until the grass beneath their feet disappeared and they were surrounded by dirt and jagged rocks. Ahead of them, the river cut through craggy hills, creating a small canyon full of rushing water.

"Could the smugglers really travel on the river? The current seems to be pretty rough."

"In town, they said it's been raining. They said it wasn't cold enough to snow yet." Edward sounded distracted and the far away tone caught Al's attention. He slowly turned and looked, really looked at his brother. Ed was standing close to the edge now, staring hard at the rushing water. His breathing had become shallow and he seemed to have grown pale. It was unnerving and Al felt a cold sense of worry shudder through his frame.

"The water is moving so fast though. It seems too dangerous." Al muttered as he cautiously stepped forward. Something had seemed off with Ed for a few days and Alphonse had been giving his brother space, but maybe that had been a mistake.

Edward was no longer listening to Al at all, nor did he notice the way his brother was moving slowly toward him. Ed was staring into the swirling water with great intensity. It went rushing, roaring by with such a force that the sound of it was horrendous. It filled his ears and flooded his brain. Everything else had faded away.

"He followed the water." Ed mumbled, unaware he had spoken aloud. Alphonse responded with something, but Edward couldn't hear him. His chest began to ache as his heart pounded and pounded, beating faster, pushing the water through his entire body, he would drown. He took a great, gasping breath, trying to force air into his lungs, but there was none. There was nothing, but the sound of waterfalls. Great tumbling waterfalls.

Ed's knees were bending and with one hand he began clawing at the skin over his heart. What the hell was going on? He had been feeling awful lately, but he couldn't let it affect him this much. He was past this. He was better than this. With one last shred of awareness, Edward tried to make sense of it, he tried to stop it. He was imagining things, he was panicking, he was probably scaring his brother…

Suddenly, a hand was on his shoulder and all of his reasonable thinking ceased. He was going to be taken again, taken and bound and hurt and no he couldn't go through it again. He screamed and he ran. He ran about two steps before the ground fell out from underneath him and he was falling through the air. There was a sudden, freezing, watery impact that brought him back to his reality. The river. He had been standing on the edge of it. Now it rushed around him, pulling him under. The coldness of it hit him hard in the chest and it pulled the little bit of remaining air out from his lungs. He really had no air this time, he couldn't breathe.

And there, that muted sound was Al screaming his name. Desperate and already too far away. He was being swept down the river, towards the sheer rocks and rough terrain. There would be no easy bank for him to climb out. He was going to drown.

No, no, no, he couldn't leave Alphonse. He had to do something, he had to get out. He reached out desperately looking for something to grab hold of. But there was only water. He could transmute the water. Turn it to ice. It might be possible, but he had never done it and it was all rushing by so quickly. Swim. Think. But the current was too rough and it kept turning him upside down, making him choke. Fight. Transmute. Too cold, no air. Don't die. His automail was too heavy. He had never tried to swim with it, he knew it would be difficult, too dangerous to attempt. Think. Al needs you. Think.

Edward's panic and racing thoughts were instantly stopped when his head collided with a rock and he was lost to darkness.

"Edward!" Alphonse yelled. If Al had lungs they would have given out long ago.

"Ed!" If he still had a throat, it would have gone dry and useless from screaming.

"Brother!" If he had a body, he would have been exhausted from running along that river.

"Ed, please!" Climbing over those rocks would have caused him so much pain.

The sun was setting and Al only knew it was cold because it was winter, but if he had a body, he would have been feeling the chill in the air.

"Edward! Where are you?" Unfortunately, not having a body didn't save him from the feeling of his heart breaking as he searched and searched and couldn't find his brother.

He had run along that river screaming and looking, feeling panicked and helpless. He couldn't get wet, the blood seal would be washed away, but how was he supposed to save Ed? He had lost sight of him when the river turned into the hills and the walls became steep. Al climbed them anyway, too scared to stop and draw a transmutation circle to make the way easier for him. Alphonse could only follow the river hoping his brother would find a way to stop himself from being pulled too far. But he never saw Edward. Not clinging to any rocks or clinging to the bank.

The river widened and the current slowed marginally. When this happened, Al dropped to his knees and drew a transmutation circle in the ground. In desperation, he caused the ground to rise up, block the water, set it spewing out on a new course. His dam didn't work as well as he thought and he fled quickly to avoid the flood of water that now poured and filled the surrounding area. It had slowed the water down though. If the current wasn't so strong, he thought he might have a chance.

That had been hours ago. Now it was growing dark and he didn't know what to do.

"Brother!" Al called again, but his voice caught, disrupted by a sob. It was stupid, he couldn't even cry real tears, he shouldn't be able to get choked up… and yet his despair shook every part of him and he thought he could fall apart from the weight of it. It was when Alphonse really began crying with everything that he was that he caught sight of something out of place on the riverbank.

The ground here wasn't as rocky, the sharp hills had given way to plains once more and the current slowed a great deal as it widened and wove its way through miles and miles of long grass and softer earth.

There, amongst the grass on the bank, lying halfway out of the water, Alphonse could see a bit of red. Brother's coat.

He was losing the sunlight, but he was sure of what he saw. Al ran as fast as he could, yelling for Edward.

And just like that, after all the searching and fear, there was Edward. His forehead was bleeding freely and he looked as though he was freezing, but his chest was moving, slowly, so slowly. He was breathing. He was alive.

"Ed..." Al whispered, voice heavy with relief. Al pulled his brother gently from the water, dragging him over to the softer grass. Alphonse quickly began assessing him. Breathing, but pale, he's unresponsive. Al glanced back to the river and saw a trail of red in the dim light. Blood. So much blood. Too much blood. Too much just to be coming from his head wound. Where is it coming from? Where? Alphonse scanned his brother, tugging at the rips in his clothes, where was the injury? Where? With a sense of dread, Al realized that the blood was pooling under Edward's right leg. Alphonse lifted his brother's leg gently to study it. He pulled away torn fabric to see the injury more clearly. He was pretty sure that the bit of white he saw in the large gaping hole that was torn into Edward's calf was his brother's bone. The fibula.

If Alphonse had a body, he probably would have been sick. Instead, the dread he felt spread throughout his armor, it filled him up and settled in every limb.

"What should I do?" Al whispered. The boy then looked up quickly and glanced at his surroundings. There were plains for miles and hills in the distance. There wasn't a single hint of another living being in that great expanse. Alphonse was alone.

Night fell and Al thought for sure that his brother was going to die in his arms as he carried him. Al had begun to walk back upstream, but then he had seen a little glimmer of light out on the plains. So he walked towards it, slowly, carefully, scared of jostling Edward too much. He was walking for some time when the light wavered and disappeared. Realizing he was now truly lost, Al transmuted a makeshift shelter for them both and was able to build them a small fire.

He spent that night watching the rise and fall of his brother's chest. Edward's leg was wrapped with ripped fabric from Alphonse's loincloth. It had been the only dry fabric that Al had at his disposal. The bleeding had slowed, but Edward seemed to have slipped into shock. If he couldn't find help soon, he knew that Ed could die. He didn't know what he should do. He didn't know enough about medical alchemy and was scared to try something that could hurt his brother more.

He would wait a little longer, to be sure Edward was completely dry from the fire. Then he would pick up Ed and they would head off again. He would continue walking to the place where he thought he last saw the light. It was his best chance, even if it was dark now.

Ed groaned in his sleep and Alphonse was at his side in an instant.

"Brother? Can you hear me?"

Edward made a sound that could have been a response, but it was hard to tell.

"Brother, you're hurt, but it's going to be alright."

"…Al." Ed's eyes fluttered open and he stared dully up at his brother.

"Yes! I'm here. Don't move alright?"

"…'s cold." Ed mumbled, his eyes drifting shut again. Al felt horribly guilty. He could never gauge temperatures anymore, but he had hoped the fire was warm enough. However, Al could see wind blow across the grass, it was probably bitingly cold. They would have to move soon, Edward needed more than a fire and a shelter transmuted from the earth around them.

"It's going to be alright," Al whispered. "You're going to be fine."

Since he didn't have vocal chords, Al always thought it was unfair when his voice wavered and his words would become mingled with the sounds of tears.

"You're… you're going to be f-fine."

No, it just wasn't fair at all.

Al walked and walked until the sun began to rise. When he looked up to gaze at the new light peering from behind the hills, he realized that he could see some small structures in the distance. They were actually to his right and behind him. He had walked too far and, in the dark, passed by them in the night. There was a barn and a little home, surrounded by fields and fields of crops. The small light he had seen flickering in the night had been from their window, but they had put the lights out when they had gone to bed.

The Whitman family lived there. There was a man and his wife and quite a few children. There were more kids than Al was able to keep track of. When Alphonse woke them up that early morning, begging for their help, they took them both in without hesitation. They gave Edward a change of clothes, they wrapped up his injuries and found a bed for him to rest. Then they sent the oldest son for the retired doctor who lived a few hours away. The whole time, Al kept thanking them and apologizing and thanking them again. He kept thinking of when they were children and he had brought a bleeding, dying Edward to Granny Pinako's door. He got so caught up in thoughts that he didn't realize it when they asked him if he would like to sleep in the bed they had made up for him. Night was already beginning to fall again. He had spent the whole day in a stupor, reeling from the relief of finding help, of finding people who were kind. So kind. He cried from relief at their compassion. But no, he can't sleep. They gave him pitying looks, thinking he must be too worried to sleep. Let them think that, it was easier. However, when he asked if he could use their phone, they apologized to him. There was no phone in the house. The closest phone was in town, which was miles away. Al would have to report in to the Colonel later.

The doctor arrived late into the night. He had been held up by an accident on another property. The man was ancient and Al wondered how long he had been retired from his profession. The family assured Alphonse that Doctor Lindstrom was still very capable and reliable.

Edward had begun to stir, but he didn't seem particularly lucid. Blood loss, shock, possible concussion the doctor said. With careful hands, he inspected Ed's wounds. As soon as the doctor was about to begin cleaning out the cut on his leg, Edward blinked into semi-awareness.

"Al." Edward called quietly, his voice sounding thin and weak. "Al?"

"I'm here, brother. Don't move. There's a doctor here, he has to clean the cut on your leg. Can you hold still?" Alphonse murmured in a hushed voice.

"Hold still," Ed repeated back, but Al wasn't sure if he had really understood.

"You might have to hold him down," the doctor suggested.

"No," Al responded quickly, "that will make it worse. He can hold still. He… he has automail. He knows how to hold still. Right, Ed?"

Edward made a noise in the back of his throat and let his eyes slip close again.

With a nod, the doctor set to work cleaning Edward's wounds and sewed up his leg to the best of his ability. Ed, while he had grit his teeth and made noises of extreme discomfort, he did not move. The years with his automail had taught Edward to remain still through the worse pain. As long as he wasn't having a nightmare or a panic attack, Ed would bare it. Al spoke quietly throughout the procedure, though he wasn't even sure what he was saying anymore. As Doctor Lindstrom finished up, he interrupted Al's quiet assurances and began adding his own commentary. His words were soft and said so calmly that they eased some of the tension in the room.

"You said he fell into the river? Must have been caught by a rock. These stitches should hold, but it's not going to heal up nicely. Gonna take awhile. He'll have a scar for sure."

Al was nodding along as the doctor continued.

"Not the worst I've seen though, he'll be alright."

"There…" Al hesitated, pointing unsurely at his brother's now stitched together leg, "the cut looked really deep... there was something white. Was it the… bone?"

The doctor glanced up and gave the boy a small smile. It wrinkled his aged face even further. "No bone, it's not quite deep enough. Pretty damn close though. There was a lot of debris in the wound. You probably saw a rock. I've cleaned it out and sutured everything together now. Your brother is lucky."

"Lucky…" Al echoed quietly.

At that moment, Edward groaned and scrunched up his face. It was difficult to tell how much Ed was listening or if he was even conscious.

"Probably has a headache." Doctor Lindstrom noted. "Concussions will do that. Just have to keep an eye on him. You take him into town when you get the chance. Have them look him over."

"Do you think he will be alright?" The words reverberated through Al before he could stop them.

The doctor stepped away, motioning for Alphonse to move closer and look at his brother's exposed leg, which was swelling around dark stitches.

"Keep an eye out for infection and have him rest this leg."

Al was nodding quickly. "And he'll be alright?"

The doctor heaved a great sigh. Alphonse knew that it was never a good sign when adults did that. "He seems strong. I'm sure he will be fine," Lindstrom finally said.

At those words, Al felt like he could collapse in relief. A lot of the fear and uncertainty of the last 24 hours dissipated. Ed would be fine. He was hurt, but he would heal and then he would be just fine. Alphonse thanked the doctor profusely. They were going to be fine.

…

A week would pass before Al would realize how wrong he had been.

It was the coughing that was the first sign of trouble. The coughing and the way Edward seemed to be unable to catch his breath. It had been a few days and Edward seemed to be doing better, but then the coughing started, and he was up most of the night, struggling for air. When he finally was able to fall asleep, he slept and slept. He's come down with a cold and he is still healing, of course he is tired. Ed is still getting better.

Then there was the fever and Al thought it was part of the cold, though maybe it was a case of the flu. The other children of the house were kept away from the brothers to keep them from catching it.

It was early in the morning on the seventh day that Edward didn't have the strength to get out of the bed. The coughing shook his entire form and his eyes were glazed with a high fever. He shivered and clung tightly to the blankets.

"I'm just cold, Al," Ed had responded when Al asked if he was alright. "Tell Winry to close… window," Edward slurred, before shutting his eyes again.

"Winry's not here, Ed." Al said softly. Edward made no response, the only sound in the room was that rattling noise that came from Ed's chest when he breathed. When had it gotten so loud? Something dark settled upon Alphonse's mind. A dreadful feeling that he had been overlooking something important. Too scared to admit, that something was very, very wrong. Hesitantly, Al lifted away his brother's blankets to check on his leg. Ed made a sound of protest at the cold air assaulting him, but he didn't have the energy to do anything about it. The leg was swollen and red around the stitches. Seeping out around the edges was a cloudy discharge.

The Whitman family sent for the Doctor again.

Infection.

Pneumonia.

Edward needed a hospital.

It would take an entire day to get to the closest town, Howlseye.

The only way to get there was in the family's horse drawn wagon. It would take all day and it was near freezing outside. In the other room, Al heard the adults talking in hushed voices about Edward's ability to make the trip.

"He needs antibiotics, fluid and oxygen. They will be able to help him in town," Doctor Lindstrom explained to him, as he stood beside Alphonse at Edward's bedside.

Alphonse felt himself nodding, though an emotional numbness had settled inside him ever since he saw the pus leaking from his brother's leg.

"Your brother is strong. This is his best chance."

Al nodded again. Edward would be fine.

Ed's frame began shaking with a new bout of coughing. Alphonse moved to help his brother sit up, to aid his breathing. Although he couldn't feel it, Al knew that Edward was burning with a high fever. After the coughing subsided, Alphonse still held onto Ed. Around him, the adults moved, making plans and all Al could do was hold on.

Roy had been prepared to search every inch of the area surrounding the town of Howlseye. However, it didn't turn out to be the arduous task he thought it would be. As soon as he was off the train, Mustang went searching for a phone to check in with his staff. With no payphones on the streets, he checked into the only inn in town and requested use of their phone.

"Sir," Hawkeye's tone was very serious and Roy knew immediately that something had happened. He felt his mouth go dry and dread fill his stomach. What if he was too late? What if something terrible had happened? What if-

"Alphonse called."

Alphonse called. Roy felt his breath catch and his lungs stop working.

"They are both at the hospital, Edward is injured…"

Ed was injured, but he was alive. He was actually alive. The relief caused Roy's composure to slip. Alive. After weeks of dead ends and not having any idea where the boy was, the sudden notion that Edward would turn up this quickly, seemed too good to be true. It couldn't be this easy; nothing had ever been this easy for Roy or Edward.

Mustang's throat constricted and he was only able to make a strangled sounding noise in response.

"Sir." Hawkeye prompted. Not a question, but a reminder. It was time to go to work. The Colonel straightened up and he took one deep breath. "Alphonse knows you are coming. He's waiting for you."

Another deep breath.

"Understood, Lieutenant."

Roy ended the conversation quickly after that, not even giving a proper 'goodbye' before he hung up the phone and walked briskly from the building. Once he was out on the street, he stopped the first person he saw and asked for directions to the hospital. It was down the road, on the main street. Small towns kept everything near the main street.

Roy was walking, jogging and then sprinting. He was so focused on getting there as quickly as possible that he initially ran past the entrance. It wasn't until he heard a familiar voice call his name that he skid to a stop and spun around to see Alphonse standing just outside the doors. Al had been watching from the window, waiting. When he had seen the Colonel run past he had run outside to chase after him. Roy stumbled and then tried to walk, respectfully, with dignity…

"Colonel!" Al sounded as though he was crying and he started walking forward with his arms extended. "You're here, you're actually here." Al sounded so relieved and scared. Ideas of maintaining an air of respectability vanished and Colonel Mustang ran the last few meters to the younger brother.

"I'm here. I'm here. It's all right. It's all right." Roy found himself repeating as Alphonse barreled into him, nearly knocking him over. Al was wrapping his arms around the Colonel and hugging him. He leaned over and rested his metal head upon Mustang's shoulder. Roy's frame shook with the great sobs that the boy was emitting.

"I'm sorry it took so long for me to find you both. I'm sorry Alphonse. It's going to be all right."

Standing outside of a tiny hospital in some town in the middle of nowhere, Roy wondered at what point had the Elric brothers become so important to him. At what point did their wellbeing start to matter so much? This amount of caring was going to destroy him some day, but the Colonel wrapped his arms around Alphonse as best as he could and accepted his fate.

He would always be there for them. No matter what.

"Ed's sick." Al explained brokenly. Mustang didn't comment on the way the younger boy was gripping his shoulders so hard. After several minutes of uncontrollable crying, the Colonel had only just been able to calm Al down enough that the boy could start explaining.

"He's really, really sick, Colonel. And they won't let me into the room anymore! And Ed, Ed. He- he's not, he's not, he's not-"

Roy wasn't sure if it was possible for Al to hyperventilate, but it definitely sounded as though he was about to.

"Alphonse," Mustang started, but he cut himself off before he could tell the boy to take a deep breath. "…Calm down," Roy said instead. "Start from the beginning, what happened? We've been looking for you. Your brother was reported as missing days ago."

"Sorry, Colonel! There weren't any phones! And then when we got here, Ed was really sick and I was so worried and I forgot until this morning. It's just- there was so much- Ed fell into this river and he got so hurt." Alphonse quickly ran through an account of what had been going on, but he was talking so fast the Colonel was losing track of the story. A river, a family, an old doctor, a trip in a cart in the near freezing weather and now the hospital…

"Why aren't they letting you in the room anymore?" Mustang interrupted the boy's frantic story.

"Ed broke a nurse's jaw." Alphonse whispered quietly. "But he didn't mean to! He didn't know where he was and he started yelling. I was holding him down, but his arm got loose and he punched a woman across her face. It was awful. He has a fever and… well, nightmares. He still has trouble sometimes when he wakes up and they don't understand all of that. Brother can't always tell where he is, he was just scared." Al trailed off, sadness overtaking him for a moment.

"His leg got hurt and now it's infected. They said if it doesn't get better… they said… they said they might have to amputate, but they can't! They can't! Please explain it to them! Ed can't lose anything else!"

"Alphonse." Mustang wanted to comfort him. He wanted to tell the boy that Ed wouldn't have to lose the leg, but if the infection was bad…Roy felt like he was going to be sick. "I will make sure everything is done to save it, but if it came between that and your brother's life…"

Al nodded slowly, but he looked absolutely miserable.

"I will talk to them, I'll try to get you back in to see him. I can't imagine he's horribly pleasant without you there with him."

"They had to sedate him to get him to stop," Al whispered again. Mustang wondered if he would ever stop feeling as though the ground was falling out from underneath his feet.

"I will talk to the Doctor." Mustang offered, though a horrible feeling was building in his gut. Despite his efforts to remain calm, Roy felt as though he was beginning to panic. The relief of finding the boys alive had quickly dissolved and given way to a helpless kind of worrying.

"It will be all right." Roy said, even though he was beginning to doubt it.

Once Roy had let the staff know that he was Edward Elric's commanding officer and was responsible for the boy, they had given him permission to visit Ed. However, they would not allow Alphonse to accompany him. Stating that Edward wasn't allowed visitors at this time, but they would make an exception for the Colonel since he was the closest thing to a legal guardian.

"He should be coming out of sedation," a nurse at the desk informed him in a clipped tone.

"Colonel…" Al spoke nervously, obviously upset over the situation. Roy spoke over him, deciding that authority was best in this situation.

"Can you tell me why he has been sedated?"

"It was for his own safety and the safety of the staff here." The nurse paused there and studied Mustang's appearance. She must have seen something worth pitying because her tone softened slightly. "Most of the nurses were refusing to go near him. It came down to sedation or removing the automail and his brother asked us not to do that," the nurse nodded at Alphonse, "he said it would be gravely upsetting to him."

On some rational level, the Colonel understood. However, he was exhausted and, quite frankly, he was pissed. He felt a fierce protectiveness course through him that would have made Hughes proud.

"You are not going to sedate him again."

"Colonel Mustang-"

"He will not be sedated again, do you understand?"

"This is not a military hospital, sir." While the woman was capable of compassion, she was not easily swayed. Mustang tightened his jaw.

"Which room?" He would continue this argument later. He needed to see Edward.

"Down the hall, third door on the left." The nurse motioned quickly and then turned back to her paperwork.

While Al paced anxiously in the waiting area, Roy walked quickly down the hall. Once he found the correct door, he took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and stepped inside.

There was Ed, still and looking almost dead on the hospital bed. Most of the boy's face was taken up by a large rubber oxygen mask. It was securely fastened to the boy's head and Roy could easily see why Ed would have panicked over having something like that forced upon him. As he stepped into the room, Roy realized that Edward was strapped down to the bed. Mustang felt anger course though him again. This must have been a new development. Al would have told him, if had known that Ed had been confined in this way.

During Edward's previous hospital stay in Central, there had been discussion about having to strap down Fullmetal to the bed. However, Roy had convinced the staff not to try to tie down Ed, convincing them that it would cause the boy too much distress.

Mustang strode forward and began undoing the buckles around Ed's torso, hips and legs. This tiny, rundown hospital didn't know Ed's medical history. It wasn't a state hospital and Edward had no connections here, so they had no way of knowing the first thing about caring for the boy. As he worked on the strap around the boy's torso, Edward twitched and his eyes fluttered open. Startled, Roy paused in his movements. He was relieved to see those eyes struggling to open. After looking for so long, here was Edward, really alive. Ed blinked multiple times before his gaze wandered over to the Colonel's face and Roy froze. Was he lucid? Would he panic? The moment dragged on, until Roy couldn't take it anymore.

"Fullmetal," Mustang whispered, and his voice sounded so fragile, what the hell was the matter with him? Ed stared vacantly and Roy thought he must have been too out of it to actually understand, but then Ed tugged very pointedly at the restraints over his chest. He then cast a look at Roy that seemed to ask what the hell was taking him so long.

"Right," Mustang gasped out in that choked voice. He quickly undid the strap, completely freeing Edward's shoulders and arms.

Immediately, Ed weakly reached up and began clawing at the mask. He struggled to get his fingertips underneath it and pry it from his face.

"Leave it." Roy tapped at his fingers, pushing them away.

Ed's hands searched for a moment before he determinedly grabbed the Colonel's hand and began slowly tracing something into his palm. Letters. Mustang realized. Edward was trying to talk to him. The mask probably muffled his speech a great deal.

Al? Ed was asking.

"Outside, they kicked him out."

Edward made a noise a this, but didn't seemed surprised by the information. After a moment, Ed was writing another message in Roy's open palm.

Morphine.

Roy blinked. Unsure if Ed was asking for morphine or admitting to wanting some. Sensing his confusion, Ed motioned to the IV hooked into his arm.

Morphine.

It clicked then in the Colonel's mind. They had given him morphine.

"That's all right. It's all right. Will worry about it later."

Ed's brow furrowed and his eyes began watering. Fighting off frustrated tears, he went back to clawing at the edges of the mask.

"Calm down, Edward. Leave it alone."

It was then that a nurse walked into the room. Her eyes widened at the unbuckled straps and she began to move to the side of the bed, hands lifting towards Edward's form.

"Don't you dare!" Roy snapped and the woman stopped in her tracks, but her expression had moved from surprise to distaste.

"Sir, this patient must remain restrained. He is a danger-"

"You are going to stay the hell away from him." Roy now had one arm over Ed's chest as he snarled at the woman.

"Our hospital policy-"

"I don't care about your backwards shit policy. Get out." Mustang bit out. The nurse frowned, but hastily turned and left, her short heels clicking loudly on the floor.

To hell with this place. Roy thought as he undid the last fastener by Edward's feet. This hospital had no idea how to deal with Edward. He wasn't going to let him stay here.

He was taking him home.

"You think it's a mistake?"

Roy had just returned from purchasing their train tickets back to Central, when he had decided to call and give Maes an update from the Inn's borrowed phone. It was late and Roy knew Hughes should be getting ready to sleep, but he needed to discuss this.

There was silence on the other line for a long moment.

"You think it's a mistake," Roy repeated dryly.

"…I'm worried." Hughes finally answered.

"Worried," Mustang echoed with distaste.

"Roy…"

"This hospital isn't equipped to treat him. They don't understand."

"Roy."

"They had him strapped to the bed. They-"

"Roy!" Sharper this time; Hughes sounded as though he was giving orders. "Just listen. It should only take a few hours to get from there to Central, but… you said they were giving him oxygen, right?"

"Yes."

"So, Edward having difficulties breathing while on a train… I'm just worried that moving him is going to cause him too much distress."

"The doctor was talking about having to take the other leg." Roy pressed his forehead into the wall. He shut his eyes tightly, fighting off the building headache.

Mustang's conversation with Edward's doctor had been brief. Brief and containing quite a few choice words. Roy was aware that acting this way wasn't earning him any points with the people who had been keeping Edward alive the past few days, but he was just insurmountably angry. Angry at the hospital and at the town… and he was absolutely furious with himself.

Hughes sighed heavily. "You trust the doctors in Central more."

"Yes."

"All right," Hughes sighed deeply, "I will make sure they are ready for him when you get here then."

"Thank you, Maes."

"Good luck, Roy."

Roy spent all of that night at the hospital; there really hadn't been a point in renting a room at the inn. They would be leaving on the first train in the morning. Until then, Mustang was monitoring everything closely and irritating the staff. They were still adamant about not letting Al in, saying something about the room being small and the equipment sensitive. Instead, Alphonse sat in the waiting room, refusing to leave the building.

It was the middle of the night when Edward first woke up from his troubled sleep. He began immediately clawing at the oxygen mask again, but Roy brushed his fingers away.

"You need that. The nurse says she'll take it off of you in a little while."

Edward's fingers hovered over his IV line...

"Don't even think about taking that out. You need the fluid and any antibiotics they throw your way."

"Morphine." The word was said with much effort and it was gargled and muffled by the mask, but Roy heard it clearly.

"Yes, they gave you that too."

Edward moved to take the line out of his arm, but Mustang caught his hand and held it firmly.

"No, listen to me. Just listen. I've seen your leg, Ed. It looks painful. It's better to be given some painkillers now than force yourself to go without it and then take too much later because you think you can't stand the pain anymore. Its small dosages and it's controlled."

Edward didn't look convinced as he gave the Colonel a desperate look.

"It's going to be all right. You'll get through it again. You'll be all right. I promise."

"Promise." Ed mumbled almost inaudibly behind the mask and Roy nodded. Ed sighed and closed his eyes again. Being awake for any length of time really drained him of his energy.

Mustang kept careful watch the rest of the night. He would protect Edward and he would save him a thousand times if that is what he needed to do.

"Promise."

The staff wasn't upset to see the Elric brothers go. While the doctor had advised against moving him, there seemed to be a general relief that Edward wasn't going to be his problem anymore.

The sun was just beginning to rise when they took the oxygen mask off of Edward and removed his IV line. Ed didn't seem really aware of what was happening; he stared dully at the nurse as she took the IV out of his arm. They told Mustang that it was the medication and painkillers making Edward lethargic and cooperative. However, as Alphonse carried Ed out of the hospital, Edward managed to free one arm from his blanket cocoon, and flip off the doctor. Roy realized that the boy was much more aware than they thought.

"Brother!" Al hissed. "The Doctor helped you!"

"Don't care," Ed mumbled. "They took you away."

"Nobody took me anywhere, Ed." Al sighed. "They made me leave because you punched that nurse."

Edward made an indiscernible sound in his throat, which caused him to cough. Roy hadn't really heard the coughing yet, but it was sudden, violent and prolonged. They hadn't even stepped foot from the hospital and Ed was gasping, with tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Doubt crept into Mustang's mind.

"Edward, if you can't do this…"

"I can do it, I can." Edward took a gasping breath and, thankfully, his cough subsided. Ed looked exhausted as he sank into the borrowed blankets in Alphonse's arms. His eyes shut, settling in to rest.

With one last glance at the skeptical looking doctor, Mustang turned and led Alphonse out the door. In a few hours they would be back in Central and they could start putting this nightmare behind them.

Just a few more hours…

They had been able to get a compartment on the train to themselves. Alphonse settled into the seat with his brother in his arms and Roy thought that it would probably be awhile before the brothers would be separated again.

As the train began moving, the Colonel pressed his forehead to the cool glass of the window. There was a headache that wouldn't leave him. It pounded at his skull and made him feel nauseous. The lack of sleep was catching up to him again and now that they were on their way back, he felt exhaustion descend upon him like an opening floodgate. It was a sign of how tired he really was that he was able to let his guard down enough to close his eyes and even entertain the thought of taking a nap.

Before he knew it, a voice was calling his name and Roy's mind stumbled back into consciousness. He jerked awake, surprised that he had actually fallen asleep at all. Alphonse was staring at him and Mustang realized the boy was talking to him.

"Colonel…" Al said hesitantly.

"What?" His voice was rough, and he coughed to clear it, "What happened? How long has it been?"

"Maybe about an hour. Sorry, you seemed really tired Colonel… I just… his breathing looks weird and it's difficult for me to check his pulse or his fever on my own."

Roy blinked as he realized he had never thought much about Al's inability to assess vitals. Al saying it was 'difficult' for him… more like practically impossible with no real sense of touch. Now fully awake, Roy leaned over and pressed his fingers to Ed's neck. Edward was too warm. After a moment, Roy realized that the boy's heart was beating fast.

"We should take the blanket away. It won't be comfortable, but his fever is too high. Did he wake up at all?"

"No, but I think he might be having a bad dream."

Underneath Edward's eyelids, Roy could see Ed's eyes darting back and forth. His breathing was shallow and every once in a while his body would give a small shudder. Roy was thinking about waking him up when Ed arched in his sleep and let out a deep, harsh cough. More coughs followed and the violent hacking caused Edward to gasp painfully for breath.

Mustang pulled the boy into a more upright sitting. Hoping it would ease his breathing. Edward's coughs shook his frame. Unable to take in a breath, Ed's struggling increased. One of his arms lashed out from his blanket and Roy experienced the reason why the hospital had tied him down.

Mustang took an automail fist to the chest before Alphonse was pushing the Colonel away. Trying to calm down his brother and keep Mustang from injury at the same time. Roy fell hard onto the opposite bench, his head impacted with the wooden slate behind the seat and he was dazed momentarily.

"Brother, stop! You're alright!" Al was shouting, but Edward was struggling and choking so hard that he began gagging. Ignoring his new bruise, Roy stood up and maneuvered out of the way, careful of stray fists and Ed's injured leg.

"Alphonse! Put him down here! Give him a minute."

Al attempted to be gentle, but with Edward thrashing around, he ended up being dropped quite roughly on the opposite bench. With nobody holding him, Edward stopped struggling and just coughed and coughed until he vomited stomach bile onto the compartment's floor. Edward took great gasping breaths. It sure as hell didn't sound as though his lungs were working. Fluid. There was too much damn fluid in his lungs and Roy could hear it rattling around his airways, impeding the flow of oxygen.

"Go get water." Roy instructed, calmly. After a brief hesitation, Alphonse agreed and frantically left the compartment. After a long, dragged out moment, the coughing began to slow and Edward was blinking and staring wide eyed at the ceiling. Tears from the exertion of choking, puking, just trying to breathe, were trailing out of the corners of his eyes and into his hairline.

"Edward…" Mustang tried, seeing recognition on the boy's face. Ed made a noise in the back of his throat that Roy took to mean that he was listening.

"You need to stay calm. Focus on breathing slowly."

Edward made another noise and desperately tried to pull in air. His chest heaved with the exertion. The coughing fit seemed to be ending, but he didn't seem able to breathe evenly.

"How much longer?" Ed struggled to ask.

"A few more hours." Mustang kneeled, carefully avoiding the bit of vomit on the floor.

"I don't want Al to see… I don't want Al to see." Ed screwed his eyes shut tightly and shook his head back and forth, back and forth…

"What do you mean? See what? He's already seen you sick." Roy placed a hand on Edward's forehead, stilling the boy's movement. Ed's fever was raging on. "He's been trying to take care of you for weeks."

Edward's eyes blinked open and he seemed genuinely confused, as if he had forgotten that Al had just been with them. Ed's eyes darted around the train's ceiling, before some realization dimly dawned there. They were on a train. Colonel was taking them to Central.

Roy frowned deeply as he studied Ed. The boy was so sick. A constant, icy fear had settled in Roy's stomach, he felt the cold moving through his veins. Mustang removed his hand from Edward's forehead and fought back a shudder.

"If I die..." Ed forced out.

"No. You're not dying. You didn't die in that river, you didn't die traveling to that backwards, stupid little town in a cart and you didn't die in that shit hospital. You're not dying on this damn train."

"…paperwork for you." Ed muttered after a moment.

"Yes, a lot of paperwork. So shut up and concentrate on breathing slowly."

Edward's choked breathing continued. It sounded awful, but was beginning to even out. For a moment, Roy thought that he was regaining control over the situation, but then Ed let out a groan and he shifted on the bench.

"What?" Roy asked, "What's hurting you?" Mustang had spent enough time with Edward to know when the boy was in pain. He always wore that same pinched expression.

"Leg… they wouldn't tell me… how bad is it?"

Roy gingerly untangled the blanket from around Edward's legs. It had mostly ended up on the floor already and was really only getting in the way at this point. Ed was still wearing loose clothes that the hospital had issued to him. One of the pant legs had been cut to allow access to Edward's injured calf. Roy couldn't see the actual wound, but he could see that the bandages were stained with dull red and what looked like pale yellow pus. Mustang was silent as he stared at the limb. Ed needed more antibiotics; he would be fine with more antibiotics... but there was doubt in his mind. Maybe it was too late. Maybe Roy had been too late.

"That bad, huh?" Ed mumbled. Startled from his dark brooding, the Colonel looked up to see that Edward was studying his dismal expression.

"You're going to be fine," Roy forced the hollow words from his throat and they rung with a falseness that made Mustang grimace. Edward let his eyes fall shut again as he refocused on moving air past the pain in his chest.

"You're going to be fine," Mustang repeated and he was horrified at the desperation that clung to his voice.

"Alright," Edward whispered and the Colonel got the sense that Ed was just saying it for Roy's own sake. Mustang thought that he must have sunk low indeed if an injured and ill Fullmetal was attempting to placate him.

Just a few more hours…

Edward had slipped into sleep, but seemed unable to rest fully, as he was awoken many times by the rough coughs that rattled his chest. They soon realized that Ed breathed easier if he was propped up slightly, but the blanket didn't provide enough support when they put it under Edward's head and, because Alphonse was so bulky and his armor was hard, Edward couldn't get comfortable when his brother tried to lean him against him.

Eventually, Roy ended up sat with the folded up blanket in his lap and Edward's head cushioned on top of that.

"He's only a better pillow because he's fatter than you, Al," Edward mumbled. Al was refusing to sit down on the opposite bench and instead stood hunched over, fretting over his brother's form.

"Ed! The Colonel is not fat," Al chastised.

"I will dump you onto the floor, Edward." Roy grumbled. Ed's retort was cut off by a bout of coughing. Mustang automatically lifted Edward up further so that he could work his way through the coughing fit.

Once the hacking was over, Ed began to struggle to say something, but Mustang cut him off.

"Save it, Edward. I've already cleaned up your puke once today. I'm not doing it again."

Edward scowled, but he shut his eyes and concentrated on taking careful breaths. Alphonse set a cool cloth on Edward's forehead and Ed sighed softly. Edward's cheeks were red, a sign of the fever that his body was fighting. Seeing that his brother was still for now, Alphonse finally sat down with a heavy sigh. The silence stretched on and Mustang had the distinct feeling that something wasn't quite right.

"Are you all right, Alphonse?" Roy was studying the other boy curiously. While Al didn't have a regular body, Mustang couldn't stop thinking that Alphonse looked exhausted. He supposed it was a soul deep weariness that permeated the armor. The Colonel could relate to that feeling… but what was he supposed to do about it? Al didn't exactly sleep.

Startled by the Colonel's question, Alphonse just stared at the man for a moment. He then glanced away to the side before meeting Roy's eyes again.

"Not really… Is that… is that alright?"

"Of course," Roy felt a pressure in his chest that made it hard to get the words out…because Alphonse sounded too scared and way too damn young. "Of course it is."

"Are you alright?" Al whispered.

"Yes," Mustang lied immediately. Alphonse just stared at him after that and Roy wondered if the boy saw through the lie, if he could see him for the hypocrite that he was. However, Al never responded and the silence stretched on until Edward woke up, gasping desperately for air.

There was only one hour of the trip left when Edward began coughing so hard that he didn't seem able to pull in any oxygen and the Colonel began to worry that the boy was going to suffocate in his arms.

"Breathe…" Roy kept saying, but it didn't seem to help and, as Edward struggled on and on, he didn't seem to be able to hear him at all. Ed was gripping Mustang's arm hard, trying to anchor himself through pain and borderline panic. "Just a little longer, just a little longer…" Roy was muttering to himself as Edward gagged and retched again. Stomach acid dribbled down Roy's arm, but he didn't care. He did not give a damn. Don't let him die in my arms, please just don't let him die in my arms. And Mustang didn't know who he was pleading with. He wasn't the kind to pray to anything, but for the first time in a long time, he found himself begging in his mind. Pleading with the world, the universe and anything that might listen... Please, he cannot die in my arms.

If he dies now, it will be my fault.

Yes, it will.

Edward's coughing had eventually subsided, but his breathing was harsh and the Colonel found himself just staring at his rising and falling chest. Every time Ed took a breath, Mustang wondered if it would be his last. The rise and fall would cease and there wouldn't be a damn thing the Colonel could do about it. The thought was maddening and the weight of it all pushed down around Mustang. They just needed to make it through this trip. He just needed to hold on for a little while longer...

Before the train had fully stopped, Roy was up and out of the compartment with Alphonse right behind him. He was soon carrying Edward briskly through the station, without even a clear plan of how he was getting Ed to the hospital, when two familiar faces appeared before him. Before he could process what was happening, Edward was being lifted from his arms and, without his burden, Mustang realized he had sat still for too long on the train and he had stood up much too quickly. His leg muscles seemed to freeze up and he felt himself tilting, falling…

"Roy!" Hughes' voice. However, it wasn't Maes who grabbed him to keep him upright. Mustang felt metal arms wrap too tightly around him and force him back on his feet.

"Colonel's not well," Al's quiet voice reverberated in Roy's ear. Mustang felt resentment and embarrassment flood through him. Alphonse was too perceptive for his own good.

"I'm fine." Roy insisted, though not as loudly as he intended to. The Colonel pushed himself away from Alphonse and blinked hard to bring the world back into focus. Havoc was standing there, with a sad smile. Who the hell gave him permission to have that look on his face? Roy didn't need pity; he needed to get to the hospital for Edward. Mustang looked around quickly, realizing he didn't know Ed's exact location. The boy was being carried by Hughes and gasping away in his arms. Ed's face was flushed with the fever that wouldn't break, but he had awoken and he blinked at the Colonel with bright eyes.

Roy became aware that they were now being stared at by other people on the platform and Hughes narrowed his eyes at the curious strangers passing by.

"We have to move. Let's go." Maes turned quickly and led the way through the crowd. He followed his friend automatically and he tried to ignore Havoc's hand on his arm, he tried to ignore the fact that he needed the extra support.

There had been an urgency in Maes' voice that didn't sit right, something wasn't right. Before Mustang could inquire, he was being pushed into the passenger seat of a car. He turned to watch as Hughes and Havoc worked to gently lay Edward across the backseat. The boy's eyes were shut again and Roy thought he must have fallen into unconsciousness. The car doors were slammed and Mustang could hear Al sounding worried, followed by Havoc responding, but everything sounded far away. More silence followed and Roy took a deep breath as he tried to ease some of the tension he felt. Ed's haggard breathing filled his ears and the Colonel felt that he would be hearing that sound in his nightmares from now on. Mustang was interrupted from his thoughts when Hughes climbed into the driver's seat.

"I told you to take care of yourself, I said you wouldn't be of any use if you ran yourself into the ground." Hughes sharply shut the car door. Roy didn't reply, watching as Maes started the car and agitatedly tapped his fingers on the wheel.

"Where's Al?" Roy asked.

"Havoc is driving him right behind us."

"Why are you on edge? Did something happen?"

"What happened, was that the higher ups realized you went on a little field trip. The Western offices are pissed beyond belief."

Roy had been fighting to keep his mind clear, but now anger sharpened his thoughts.

"What the hell… I did their job for them. They can go f-"

"They were not kept in the loop that Edward Elric had been found. A few hours ago, they got to the hospital where he had been and they found out that Colonel Mustang had already been there and discharged the Fullmetal Alchemist without a word to the search team."

"Their job is done. They can go back to sitting on their asses."

"Yes, well… They are now pissed. They say you impeded their investigation and that you withheld information from their search party that caused them to waste time and resources."

"Maybe if they ran a proper investigation, they would have found him sooner. They need to back off, they don't even care, why are they pulling all this protocol bullshit?"

"Something about a massive flood in the area that they strongly believe was caused by the Elric brothers. Did Alphonse say anything about redirecting a river? Because, apparently, they are saying someone did."

"There's no proof that was Alphonse."

"So he did do that. Great." Maes pressed a hand to his temple, fighting off a migraine.

"They have no proof."

"Well, also, they hate you."

"Good to know that General Hasling still has that stick up his ass. He's been walking around with that thing since the academy."

"Seriously, Roy. They're putting you on suspension. That's why Hawkeye's not here, she's working to smooth things over. Also, for the official record, Havoc isn't here either."

"Suspension." Roy echoed.

"There's nothing going to come of it. Let the Western offices bluster for awhile and you can take some time off. Besides," Hughes looked at the Colonel up and down, "You're going to be at the hospital."

"Yes, I need to make sure they take care of Edward. He doesn't want morphine, but I don't know if he can avoid it. Especially with his leg…"

"That's not what I mean. I'm taking you to the hospital to be checked over. After they admit you for dehydration and exhaustion, and they will do that, we'll probably be able to convince the superiors that it was temporary insanity."

"I am not insane, Maes." Mustang had a sudden bitterness in his tone that cut through Hughes' attempted joke. Maes sighed and swore under his breath. Hughes had spent so much time and a lot of dark nights convincing Mustang that he wasn't crazy, but in all honesty, Maes didn't think anyone in the military was completely all right anymore.

"I know, Roy. I know. I didn't mean it seriously… Have you looked at yourself though? You look awful and you smell like puke."

"I'm fine."

"…'m fine," came the muffled echo from the back seat, which caused Roy and Maes to jump in surprise. They both turned to see Edward, who was unconscious, but had begun to murmur in his sleep.

"I'm glad you're both fine," Hughes muttered while shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

Maes turned the car into the lane that lead right up to the hospital, still followed closely by Havoc. There was a stretcher waiting and Roy realized that someone must have called ahead. Good. Edward would be taken care of here. He would be treated correctly here and then he would walk away from this.

Mustang stepped away from the car and watched as a flurry of medical personnel descended upon the vehicle. They were shadowed by Alphonse, who was caught between not wanting to get in the way and needing to be as close as possible to his brother. Roy felt Maes grab his arm to steady him and he wanted to resent the man, but in all honesty, Roy could feel his last reserves of energy slipping away.

As Edward was loaded onto the stretcher, Mustang felt the pressure on his chest alleviate slightly and he took a deep breath. They had made it, everything would be fine now.

Roy eyed the IV in his arm with extreme distaste. This was unnecessary and he told Hughes so. Honestly, there was no reason to be here, he could go home and drink water if that is what everyone wanted.

"Would you actually go home and drink water and rest?" Maes asked with a raised eyebrow.

Roy went quiet. They both knew that he wouldn't. Not with Edward freshly admitted to the hospital. Not when these next few hours were so important in determining how much of a recovery Edward was going to make.

When they had moved Edward from the car, the boy didn't protest the unfamiliar doctors and nurses who prodded and began checking his vitals. The trip had exhausted him and he was now too weak to put up any kind of resistance. It was unnerving to see Ed like that. Still and practically limp as they moved him onto a stretcher. He looked dead already and Roy's stomach dropped at the thought.

Ed had been situated in a room that was down on the other side of the hall from Roy. There, he was put on oxygen again and his injuries were assessed by the doctor on staff. He had already been given antibiotics and painkillers. At the Colonel's request, they had held off on the morphine. As long as Edward was able to remain calm, they wouldn't sedate him or load him with that painkiller here.

Roy hoped he didn't panic and punch any of the nurses on staff. It was bad enough that Ed was known as that boy who always ripped out his IV and escaped out the windows.

"I should check on him…" Roy began getting out of bed, looking to see if his IV pole had wheels. It didn't. He would have to drag it into the other room. Edward wasn't too far away, he could manage it.

"Roy, no. Stop." Hughes set a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Just stop. Enough. Al is with him. There's nothing else for you to do right now."

"I can't just…" Roy made a vague gesture to the hospital bed and then to the entire room.

"Look," Hughes adjusted his glasses with his free hand. "He's not going to die."

"You don't know that." Mustang shook off Hughes' hand in irritation. "You can't know that. His leg…"

"If he loses the leg…" Hughes fought to keep the grimace off of his face. "Ed will adapt. He's strong."

"It will be my fault, Hughes."

"It won't."

Maes sat down heavily in the chair, watching as his friend grimaced uncomfortably. He realized that Roy must have still been fighting off a headache. The room fell silent as Mustang breathed through the stabbing pains in his skull. Exhaustion had found the Colonel again, and it was overcoming him.

"You should go back to work," Roy said through clenched teeth. And he hated how drained and weak his voice sounded, as if he was a much younger man on the verge of tears. He was just so tired.

"No, I'm going to stay here for a little while longer."

"You'll get in trouble. It won't look good." Roy took a deep, steadying breath.

"I don't care. They can suspend us both."

Roy smirked slightly and leaned his head farther back against the pillows, trying to relieve some of the tension that was causing pain in his shoulders.

"Let other people take care of things for now. Just rest." Hughes said softly. Mustang didn't want to admit it, but in that moment, he was relieved to let go, even if it was only for a little while.

"Let me know, if you hear anything about Edward."

"Of course."

Roy was asleep within moments.

Roy had only been kept for one full night before he was deemed healthy enough to return home to continue resting. However, home turned out to be an uncomfortable chair in Edward's hospital room. Ed's breathing seemed to be improving finally, though he still needed to wear an oxygen mask most of the time. Edward seemed to be able to deal with it, but the Colonel wasn't sure if that was because he had Al at his side or if the boy was just completely exhausted at this point.

Mustang managed to stay by Edward's bedside for a little over a day before Hughes intervened to take him home. Maes might not have been successful in his endeavor, if he hadn't brought reinforcements. Hawkeye had been dealing with paperwork and ridiculous accusations from the Western offices for days and she was not someone to be ignored or taken lightly, especially if she was found to be in a less than pleasant mood. She had walked quietly into Edward's hospital room with Hughes and then she just stared pointedly at the Colonel. After a moment of silence, Mustang got up from his chair and followed her out into the hallway.

"Traitor," Roy muttered to Maes as he walked past. Hughes smiled sadly and shook his head.

"I told you to take it easy," Maes defended. Once they were out in the hallway, Hughes moved away from the door and struck up a conversation with Alphonse. Al was looking nervous, but he calmed quickly, telling Maes about Edward's condition. However, irritated sounding voices drifted in from outside the door and Alphonse lost his train of thought.

"Is Colonel in trouble?" Al asked in a hushed voice. Hughes actually laughed at that.

"He's going to go home for a night and get himself cleaned up."

"Oh, alright." Al said quietly.

"I'm going to stay instead. Is that all right?"

Al visibly perked up at this suggestion. "Of course! I mean, if it's alright with your family. I don't mind at all. It's… nice to see familiar faces."

"Al," Maes started and he made sure Alphonse was looking at him before he continued. "I think you might be one of the bravest people I know."

Alphonse made a small choking type noise and looked embarrassed. "N-not really!" the boy spluttered. "I haven't done anything. I just did what I had to do."

"Roy told me about some of it. You were all by yourself, in an unfamiliar place and you saved Edward."

"Brother would have done the same for me… he has done the same for me."

"Well, I'm proud of you."

Al rubbed the back of his head and looked flustered.

"That's- I didn't….It's… Thank you." Al stammered.

Hughes smiled. He could never adequately express how proud and grateful he was for Alphonse's endurance, but he would try.

The afternoon would have passed quietly, if Edward hadn't had a nightmare. One moment the room was peaceful and the next Ed was kicking, struggling and screaming. He was suddenly so desperately clawing at the oxygen mask that Hughes had yanked it away before he could think of the consequences. Edward struggled for breath, his chest making loud rattling noises as he inhaled and inhaled and choked. Ed's eyes were wild and unfocused. Maes was speaking, telling him it was all right, that he needed to calm down. Then Alphonse finally got a hold of both of his brother's wrists and Ed's attention finally snapped to Al's face.

"Brother! You're alright. You're alright now. It was just a dream. You should put your oxygen mask back on, see? It's just a mask." Al had hesitantly let go of one wrist and was now attempting to show Edward that the mask was safe. "Here, we won't strap it around your head, it will just be loose, alright?"

"Cloth." Ed choked out suddenly, and Al shook his head.

"It's not. It's an oxygen mask. It's to help, remember?"

Ed stared with an uneasy expression, but remained calm as Al maneuvered the mask back in place, he didn't fasten it around his brother's head and, instead, held it gently in place. Edward focused on Alphonse as his brother continued to talk calmly throughout the process.

"You were just dreaming, brother," Al whispered quietly, "We're in the hospital in Central and you still have a fever, but it's getting better." Alphonse's gentle assurances kept up until Edward's eyes drifted closed once more. Unable to grow tired, Alphonse continued to hold the mask steadily in place. The boy glanced up to see Maes smiling at him.

"One of the bravest," Hughes whispered with a proud grin. Al would have blushed at the praise if he could.

It was the third night that Edward was staying in the hospital when the Colonel was permitted to return to his side once again. Hawkeye had made sure that Roy had slept, eaten and showered before he was allowed back at the hospital. Mustang thought it was all unnecessary, but the Lieutenant never left room for argument. While she basically held him hostage in his own home, she had provided him with information about what had happened while he was away. Though Roy had been put on a temporary suspension, it didn't seem like anyone in Central was too interested in forcing him to stay away for long. It was merely an act to appease Brigadier General Hasling, and keep him from pursuing the issue. However, the officials at the Western offices were insisting on further action and a meeting had been arranged with Roy and a western representative to meet with a few higher ranking officers in Central. It was all being kept pretty informal, but Mustang knew that his presence at any kind of disciplinary hearing wouldn't look good for his military career. He would have to worry about all of that later though, at the moment he had much more pressing matters that called for his attention.

He was sitting in a chair watching Edward breathe and attempting to keep up a strained conversation with Alphonse. The oxygen mask had been removed for a time, the doctor was intent on seeing how well Edward did without it for a few hours. Ed was scheduled for surgery in the morning that would remove dead skin around his wound. The debridement would rid Edward of any unhealthy skin and, if successful, it would mean that Edward would not lose his leg. There was also talk of an abscess that had developed under Edward's skin that would be drained of pus. The anticipation of the procedure gave the room a sort of nervous energy that wouldn't allow its occupants to rest easy. The doctor was optimistic about his recovery, but the wound debridement sounded awful and the anxiety from the impeding surgery filled the air until it was stifling. The fact was that if this wasn't successful, if this didn't work, amputation was the most likely outcome. And that idea clung to the air, making the atmosphere thick and unpleasant.

Roy was staring vacantly, watching Ed's chest rise and fall, when Edward's eyes fluttered open unexpectedly.

"How are you feeling?" Roy asked after a moment. The boy gave the Colonel a cursory glance, but didn't seem to be able to focus on him.

"Al?" Ed rasped.

"Here, I'm here," Al's large form hunkered worriedly over the hospital bed.

"Sorry," Ed forced out, his voice sounded rough, but he wasn't coughing yet.

"Sorry, for what, Ed?" Al asked hesitantly. He wanted Edward to rest, but he wanted to know what was wearing on his brother's mind. Ed had never really told Alphonse all the details of being held captive months ago, instead Al had gathered information from what Ed said during his nightmares. It was unpleasant and Alphonse just wanted Edward to talk to him honestly, but Al knew it was still too much sometimes for his brother.

"Scaring you."

"It wasn't your fault," Al responded quickly.

"I fell in the river."

"On accident."

"… I fell because I was being stupid." Edward was blinking hard, struggling to bring the world into focus. His voice sounded stronger than it had been in a while, but the effort it took was draining him.

"You weren't being stupid, I shouldn't have grabbed your shoulder and scared you."

"I was stupid, like before. Scared over nothing… just water. Useless…"

"Ed, you're not…"

"When they take the leg, I will be even more useless, you could do better without me, you should-"

"Shut up, Edward." The words came before Al could stop them. He was suddenly so angry and he actually tremored slightly from the force of it. "You don't get to decide what I should do." Al hissed.

"Al…" Edward seemed to realize he had made mistake, but Alphonse was already too upset with him.

"No, listen. We haven't come all this way, just so you can send me away. I know you're sick and you're hurt and the other doctor gave you morphine before, so maybe that's why you're acting like a jerk now, but just stop it."

Edward just stared with wide eyes, unable to respond before Al turned and stomped over to the side of the room where he sat down with a huff. He was angry enough to want space, but still too traumatized to leave Ed's side completely.

Mustang realized he felt worried at the argument, but he no longer felt like an intruder on the brothers' fights and interactions. A few months ago, Roy would have become uncomfortable and probably left the room at the brothers' argument, feeling like an outsider, but now… now he felt like he somehow belonged there.

"Your brother's right, Edward," Mustang finally said.

"That I'm a jerk?" Ed asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, maybe. But what I mean is that you need to stop. Stop thinking so much right now. Just concentrate on getting better. You're improving a great deal… So just rest now. We'll talk about everything else later."

"After surgery."

"Yes." Because Roy couldn't talk about the possibility of Edward losing the leg or Edward going through withdrawal or Edward nearly dying… it was all too much. Right now, he needed to concentrate on the present.

"You almost sound… optimistic…" Edward's eyes started to drift closed again, he could never stay awake for very long anymore.

"I must be spending too much time with Hughes."

Edward's lips quirked into a smile before his face smoothed out and he slowly fell back into sleep.

Mustang sighed deeply. He had a long night ahead of him.

Roy was pacing and swearing in the waiting area. He had become so manic looking that the nurses were now giving him frightened looks.

"Sit down, Roy," Maes said for the tenth time. Mustang ignored him and Hughes sighed. It was too early for this. Edward had gone into his procedure very early in the morning and Hughes had arrived just in time to see Ed being carted away. About an hour had passed and Mustang had paced the whole time. Maes was going to let him do as he pleased, but his anxiety was disturbing everyone else. Al was sitting very still in the corner and Hughes had given the boy some space. Maes believed that Alphonse would come sit by him once the boy had finished working through whatever personal, emotional turmoil that he was putting himself through currently. However, Roy's actions were almost frantic looking and Hughes thought he was probably worrying Al a little bit.

"Roy," Maes hissed, "they're going to think something is wrong with you. Stop swearing at the floor and sit down."

For the first time, Mustang looked up and saw that there were several hospital staff members staring at him from down the hallway. Roy then hesitantly took a seat in the chair next to Hughes. Maes let out a sigh of relief.

"Have you slept?" Hughes asked immediately. Mustang folded his arms and nodded slightly. "Last night. Did you sleep last night though?"

Roy remained still and quiet, a frown forming on his face.

"Did you eat this morning? Or last night?"

"Yes," Mustang answered curtly. There was a beat before Hughes turned to look at Alphonse.

"Al, is he lying to me?" Maes called across the room, startling Alphonse out of his brooding.

"Maes…" Roy said in a warning tone. Al glanced up for the first time in a long time, looking uncomfortable at being pulled into the conversation.

"Oh… I don't… um… the Colonel… he… um…"

"All right, we're going to the horrible cafeteria to get food," Maes stood and stretched his back. "We'll be back quick. Are you going to be all right for a little while, Al?"

"I'll be alright," Alphonse said quietly.

Roy was being pulled back onto his feet before he could protest.

"I'm not hungry," Mustang hissed as Hughes dragged him down the hall.

"Well, I'm not feeling hungry either, but it's better than just sitting around and waiting."

"Hughes," and there was a vulnerable honesty in Roy's tone that his friend didn't hear often, "I can't eat anything. I won't be able to keep it down."

Maes turned that thought over in his mind. Roy must be feeling awful if he was actually admitting to some of it.

"Coffee?" Hughes asked. Maybe he could sneak some kind of pastry into Roy's hand as well. Something would hopefully be better than nothing.

"Fine," Roy agreed and Maes smiled. It was better than nothing.

"I called brother a jerk," Al whispered. Hughes hummed, but didn't speak. They had returned from their coffee run and were now all sitting in the waiting area in a small semi-circle. Alphonse had moved closer to them, taking a place beside Maes. Time was passing by slowly, as it usually did in hospital waiting rooms.

"You said that I was… brave, but I'm really not. I shouldn't have said that to him," Al lamented softly.

"You've had a hard few weeks. Don't beat yourself up over it," Hughes quickly replied.

"You weren't wrong though," Roy muttered.

"Roy," Maes said in exasperation.

"Edward was being difficult," Mustang defended himself.

"Brother was just scared," Al said in a hushed voice, as if he was sharing a secret with the two men. Hughes was about to reply something comforting when all three of them were alerted to the sound of approaching footsteps. For a brief moment, they went absolutely still. It was the doctor walking closer, his footsteps sounding too loud for the anxious atmosphere. Mustang stood to meet the man. There was a moment of incredible tension that descended on them all. For a moment, Hughes stopped breathing.

…

Edward was back in his hospital room, sleeping off the anesthetic. The oxygen mask was back in place, strapped securely around his golden head. The smell of antiseptic was strong in the room and it permeated the small room and its occupants.

The doctor had said that they had successfully removed the dead skin from Edward's leg and drained away the pus that had built up.

As long as he continued to receive antibiotics, the doctor believed he would be fine.

Edward would keep his leg.

A great tension had lifted off of Mustang's shoulders and, as he sat in the uncomfortable chair at Edward's bedside, he realized he was breathing easier than he had in weeks.

Upon hearing the news, Alphonse had cried in relief and Hughes had hugged him as best as he could.

The two of them were speaking quietly now, making plans for Edward's recovery. It seemed to be assumed that the boy would stay with Roy again. In light of how clingy Al had been to Ed lately, Mustang had agreed to allow them both to stay with him.

There were things that the Colonel still had to do, but in that moment, watching Edward breath in and out, Roy didn't think anything else really mattered. He thought about all of the fear and uncertainty that he had felt in the last few weeks… in the last few months. Looking after Edward… caring about Edward, it was going to be the end of him, he was sure of it.

Gently, with more tenderness than he thought he was capable of, Roy brushed the hair away from Edward's forehead and let his hand rest on top of the boy's head.

It was fine. It was a burden he would gladly bear.

Edward was kept in the hospital for one week after his procedure. This meant he went through his initial withdrawal while under the care of different nurses and doctors. Ed was constantly being monitored, so nobody had to worry about dehydration or any of his vitals dipping below normal. However, Edward had the reputation of being one of the worst patients and he continued to exceed the negative expectations. He was moody and uncooperative nearly the entire time. Alphonse and the Colonel apologized for him again and again.

Ed was still having nightmares, but they were never as bad as before and Al was able to calm him down quickly when he woke up in a panic.

"You're not hearing him, are you?" Mustang asked Ed quietly one day, when Alphonse had stepped out to request an extra blanket for his brother. It really wasn't long ago that Edward had been convinced that he was losing his mind because he still heard Warren Pace's voice.

Edward had glanced nervously around the room, making sure Al hadn't returned without him noticing.

"No," Ed whispered. "Only when I sleep sometimes."

Roy nodded. He was going to leave it at that, but Edward continued talking.

"I dream about Kaleb and Sam more now. Sometimes, it's like, I see them walking in front of me and I yell at them, but they can't hear me." Edward shrugged. "That's it. They're not as awful as the dreams before, but they are... vivid. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid, it's understandable."

"I don't want to understand them. I want them to stop," Ed bit out. "I really wish they hadn't given me morphine." Edward was tapping his fingers on the mattress in irritation and Roy wanted him to stop, but he assumed the boy needed the small outlet for his emotions.

"They did what they had to. The dose was small. It shouldn't be as bad."

"You're not the one that has to go through it," Edward snapped.

"Good to see the mood swings have already started," Roy said absently.

"I'm not having mood swings. Anyone would be annoyed. I want to get out of here! I want to go home!"

"You'll be able to go back to Risembool when you are healed."

"No, not there. I meant… not there. I mean back. Not home. Just your... house."

Edward looked embarrassed for the slip up and Mustang was surprised at the feeling of contentment he felt underneath his own awkwardness.

"Oh," Roy said simply. "Well, I already said you and Al can both stay when you get out. It should really only be another week at the most. You're withdrawal symptoms will be better by then."

Edward groaned, which made him go into a coughing fit. Though he was doing well, Edward really wasn't up to having lengthy conversations.

Roy gave him a cup of water to sip when he was done.

"Go back to sleep, Edward. You need to rest."

Edward took as deep of a breath as he dared and exhaled it slowly. He then settled back down in his bed and shut his eyes with a soft sigh.

"Mustang," Ed said sleepily. Roy made a noise to let him know he was listening. "Don't let me punch anyone else when I wake up."

"Everyone is learning to dodge."

Ed muttered something that Roy couldn't make out and then slipped into sleep.

Mustang sighed deeply. Edward would be over the worst part of it soon and he would stay right there to make sure Ed pulled through again. Roy settled in for a long wait.

Despite the Colonel and Al telling him to wait, Edward got out of the car on his own, balancing on his crutches.

"Hold on," Roy said as he exited the car to assist Edward, but Ed was already resolutely moving away from the vehicle, nearly tripping over his own crutches on the sidewalk.

"Brother," Al called as he carefully removed himself from the front seat. Alphonse barely fit in the passenger side and he was trying not to damage the car in any way. Edward ignored them both and used one crutch to shut the car door behind him.

"Be careful," Mustang finally said, resignedly. After being on bed rest for the most part of the past few weeks, Ed was now going to do as much as he could on his own.

"I'm being careful," Ed grumbled as he wobbled up the path toward Mustang's home.

Ed hesitated at the porch steps briefly, but then hobbled up them. The action looked like it hurt, but Edward was determined to get inside the house on his own. The hospital had insisted on wheeling him out in a wheelchair to the Colonel's car and he was still frustrated with the implication that he needed that much assistance. Al was soon there, following close behind his brother. He had one arm extended to catch Ed if he fell. Roy finally slammed his car door and then followed the two boys, observing them quietly.

Once they were inside, Edward began to move towards the couch.

"No, you'll have to go upstairs," Roy said.

"Stairs. Seriously?" Ed was already sweating from the exertion of climbing up the porch steps. His irritation overruled his pride as he lifted up a crutch and pointed it at the Colonel. "Do you know how hard it is to use these with stairs?"

"I'm going to need the room and you need rest. It will be quieter upstairs. Al or I can carry you."

"I don't need to be carried!" Ed got about three steps up before he angrily tossed one of the crutches and then called for Al.

Al jumped to help Ed, carefully lifting his brother into his arms. Mustang followed them up the steps. Once they were at the top, Al turned around in a small circle, not sure which way he was going.

"Colonel's ugly room is that one," Ed pointed. Roy sidestepped them both and started down the other way.

"No, bring him here, Alphonse."

"What?" Ed asked, but before he could form another question, Mustang opened the door to the storage room… except it wasn't a storage room anymore.

"Is... Did you make a guest room?" Ed was shocked. There was a bed, a dresser and even a small desk with a familiar fiery skull lamp sitting atop it.

"Well, I figured it would be better than you sleeping on my couch."

"You made me a guest room."

"There's not a lot of space, Al. I couldn't fit a second bed in here, but I figured you wouldn't really use it anyway."

"Oh, I'm fine! Don't worry about me!"

There was a pause while Edward still stared at the room in disbelief.

"Right. Well, I have some things to do. Let me know if you need any-."

"Thank you," Ed said sincerely, shaking off the initial shock.

Roy nodded.

"Just let me know if you need anything." The Colonel then turned and made his way quickly downstairs.

"That was kind of him," Al commented as he set Edward down on the bed. Ed made a noncommittal noise. Colonel was many things. He was a bastard and an asshole, but he was also surprisingly patient at times and, yes, he was kind.

Edward gently put a pillow under his hurt leg and then stretched out slowly. He didn't want to admit it, but moving from the hospital had been exhausting. His chest still hurt and his leg was still very sore, but his withdrawal symptoms had tapered off. He was just left feeling worn out and he wanted nothing more than to sleep for a while.

"Brother, did you make this lamp?"

Ed glanced over at the object in question. He smirked slightly at the sight of it.

"It's a long story, Al."

Hawkeye was the first to arrive. Then Havoc and Falman. When Hughes showed up, he only gave them all a cursory nod, before heading upstairs to check on Edward.

They waited for his return to start their meeting. It wasn't an official meeting. The Colonel wasn't allowed to have those right now. If anyone asked, it was just a gathering among friends. A gathering with a lot of paperwork and planning involved.

"Your meeting with the western office representative is going to be moderated by three generals who don't have anything against you. There is no reason for it to go badly," Hughes said.

"Well, there really is nothing for them to hold against you. They could say you acted against orders, leaving Central like you did, but you went as a private citizen. You didn't form a search team or use your military connections in any way. If anything, you just went over there to pick up your subordinate." Havoc said with a shrug. "You just avoided some of the formal paperwork of requesting to leave. Nothing we haven't done before."

"The Colonel may need to prove that he had cause to go. We have enough evidence against the Western offices to do that." Falman had organized a neat stack of papers that detailed all correspondences and evidence that the Western command had not taken the necessary steps to find the Fullmetal Alchemist.

"Roy," Maes' tone had softened, "did you tell Edward about this meeting?"

"I did not. It's nothing for him to worry about."

"They're going to claim he and Al damaged their land and he did break that nurse's jaw. They will use it against him and you."

"Fullmetal will pay for the medical expenses for the nurse. As for their river, there is still no proof."

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs and they all went still at once. Mustang turned to see Alphonse making his way down slowly. The boy managed to look sheepish.

"Sorry, I was just getting some water for Ed."

"That's fine, Alphonse," Roy responded quickly, turning back to the papers set before him on his coffee table.

Al retrieved the water from the kitchen in a hurry and went back upstairs. There was a moment of quiet where they waited for Al to be out of earshot. Though without actually ears, Roy wondered how good Al's hearing was.

"Well, Ed will probably know about it now. I'm sure Al heard some of this," Hughes muttered.

"I think it is time for us to call it a night," Hawkeye rose from her seat. "The meeting is early tomorrow and it would be best to get some rest."

They soon all filed out of the house, Havoc promising he would be there early to keep an eye on the Elric brothers while Roy was away.

Right before they left, Hughes gave Mustang a serious look.

"I can't go in with you tomorrow, but I will be right outside the whole time."

"I know, Hughes. I will see you in the morning."

Maes nodded and headed out the door. Once he was alone, Mustang sighed. This was going to be tedious and he was dreading it.

He glanced at the stairs thoughtfully before heading up. He could hear Al talking quickly and Edward's irritated tone drifting down to him. At the sound of his footsteps, they both went silent.

He opened the door to the guest room with a casual air.

"You're due for painkillers again."

"I'm fine," Ed answered automatically, "Mustang, are you in trouble?"

So Alphonse had already told him. Great.

"It's not something you need to worry about."

"But it's because of me! I should be the one in trouble."

"It is not because of you. Look, there are people who don't like me. This is between me and them. This is not your fault. Now, take your pills and get some sleep. Havoc will be staying with you tomorrow."

"Colonel..."

"Take your painkillers and get some sleep, Edward." Roy handed the bottle of pills to Al before leaving to his own room. Having Al there to help meant that Roy didn't have to worry so much about Ed. It meant he could actually get some sleep...

Mustang lay awake for a long time after that. He listened to the sounds of the house and the shuffling noises that meant Al was up and moving around. It was just after midnight when he heard the screaming.

In a way, he had been expecting it. Ed was still recovering and Roy could tell that the boy still had nightmares quite frequently, even if Edward wouldn't admit to it.

"Brother, breathe," Alphonse was saying when Roy entered the room. Ed, however, was gasping desperately, not seeming to be able to pull in any oxygen.

Seeing that Edward wasn't acting violent or lashing out, Roy moved to his bedside.

"Edward, you're alright. Just keep breathing."

"Chest hurts..." Ed confessed, "Can't catch… my breath."

"You're still recovering from the pneumonia. It's not going to be easy. This is why you were on oxygen before. Just stay calm, keep trying."

Edward shook his head and tears began to form in the corners of his eyes from fear and the exertion.

"No, stay calm. Here, sit up." Roy reached forward and pulled him into a sitting position. He adjusted the pillow behind Ed to support him better. Mustang stayed close, letting one hand rest on Edward's back. He could almost feel Edward's lungs struggling to fully expand.

"Breathe with me. See? In and out. Your chest is moving, there is air moving into your lungs. Just calm down."

Several minutes passed by until Edward's breathing started to even out. Ed was staring down at his hands, he kept clenching and unclenching his fists in time with his breaths. Eventually, Edward looked up, glancing at the Colonel and then away again.

"I don't know what happened. I haven't panicked like that in awhile."

"Did you have a nightmare?"

Ed slowly nodded, but he didn't elaborate. Roy sighed. Edward had nightmares while he was in the hospital, but there had been a supply of oxygen nearby and Ed had been just too exhausted to stay awake for very long afterwards.

"Ed, what needs to be done? Is there anything you feel like you need to do?"

Last time, Ed had ran off to that shack in the woods and then he had visited the cemetery and that had helped to dispel his personal demons. But now...

"I don't know," Ed replied. "Maybe there's nothing this time."

They all sat together for a long time after that. Edward just breathing slowly in though his nose and out his mouth. Ed eventually started to fall back to sleep. He curled up in the bed again, letting his eyes fall shut. He was still recovering from the whole ordeal. Staying awake for too long was just tiring. Mustang moved to the desk chair where he sat and watched Edward just breathe. He stayed until he was convinced that the boy was sleeping peacefully. Alphonse quietly thanked him and the Colonel only nodded. The sun was threatening to rise by the time Roy went back to his own room.

So much for getting rest.

Brigadier General Bradlin, Brigadier General Lohris and Major General Hunter sat along the impressive table. Colonel Mustang stood at attention, while Colonel Barrows from West City spoke. Roy was the picture of calm and indifference as that idiot made a case against him. Mustang discreetly bit the inside of his cheek as he listened to accusations of Mustang's team inhibiting the investigation.

When it was finally his turn to speak, Roy smiled at the assembly of generals.

"My team did everything to assist the Western office's investigation. Edward Elric was believed to be missing three days after he left Central. However, Colonel Barrows took an additional five days to confirm and form a search party."

"The Fullmetal Alchemist is a loose cannon. Known for disappearing without warning." Barrows interrupted. "We had heard that he hasn't been on active duty for some time-"

"Your intel is incorrect. Fullmetal was on leave, recovering from injuries sustained after he caught a serial killer. He returned to active duty weeks ago. He does his job, which is more than I can say about the search party you formed."

"We were searching a large, rural area and then we were delayed by a change in the river's course. An event that we believe was caused by the Fullmetal Alchemist. The extensive flooding in the area put us behind schedule."

"Changing a river's course can be solved by any respectable alchemist. If your river was put off course it would be easy enough to fix with alchemy. If the West doesn't have any capable alchemists, I'm sure Central can send someone to fix your river. In a few days, Fullmetal could go himself."

"The river has already been taken care of."

"Strange. I thought it was an ongoing issue. Considering how it stunted your investigation for nearly a week."

"There were other factors..."

"Edward was staying at a home near that river for days before he was moved to a hospital. If your investigations department had put in a notice at all hospitals in the area, then you would have learned of his location before I did."

"You cannot tell me how to do my job, Mustang."

"You didn't do anything!" Roy's calm mask slipped completely. "Did you even actually look for him? In your report you said you went to his last known location and you dealt with a river flooding. There is nothing about what area you searched and for how long…" Mustang drew in a deep breath. "You didn't even look for him. A missing State Alchemist. If it was one of your men, if your man was missing near Central, my team would have found him. At the very least, we would have acted like we gave a shit."

"Colonel Mustang," Major General Hunter finally spoke. "That is enough." The older man then turned to Colonel Barrows.

"Colonel, why was there a lapse of five days before your search party was formed?"

"There was paperwork. We had to confirm that he was actually missing from the area. We followed all of the standard processes."

The Major General clicked his tongue and then fell silent. He narrowed his eyes, drawing his grey, bushy eyebrows together. "The Fullmetal Alchemist is popular among the people." Major General Hunter twisted up one corner of his mouth on his aged face. "Despite being known as... destructive, he is well known and well liked. He has an image that the military could use more of." Hunter nodded briefly at Mustang before continuing. "Even with all of that aside, if Edward Elric had been injured more gravely, he would have died before there was even a team assembled to look for him. That is not acceptable. We will be sending a letter to Brigadier General Hasling and your office will be under review."

Hunter then turned toward Mustang, ignoring Barrows' sputter of indignation.

"Colonel Mustang, you acted without permission. However, given that you acted while you were on sick leave, the military does not see fit to rebuke you for acting on your own personal time. Your suspension will be lifted in three days."

"Sir!" Colonel Barrows protested.

"Enough, Barrows! You should be grateful to Colonel Mustang for not pursuing the matter against you. Tell the Brigadier General to expect an inspection of the West City command in the coming weeks. You are both dismissed."

With a salute, Roy left the room, not bothering to look back to see Colonel Barrows still stammering in disbelief. Mustang was immediately met by Hughes, who had been casually leaning against a wall in the hallway. On the other side of the hall, there were two men who Roy didn't recognize. Going by the dirty looks they both threw at him, he knew that they were from West City.

"How did it go?" Hughes asked.

Roy lifted his arms out to the sides. "I survive another day. I should be returning to work soon."

Roy was doing his best not to smile smugly. It would have been poor form, but he was feeling lighter than he had in weeks. Everything was beginning to fall back into place again. They both turned to leave, but found themselves face to face with Colonel Barrows and his two lackeys. After a moment of staring at each other Roy sidestepped and moved past them. Hughes followed closely behind without a word.

They had only walked a few feet when Colonel Barrows spoke up.

"You keep that boy around because he's talented and his skill makes you look good… but I have to wonder why anyone would keep a child on their team. Rumor has it that the Fullmetal Alchemist is staying with you now. I guess screwing secretaries and whores in this city aren't enough for you anymore. "

For a split second, Roy just turned and stared, because there was no possible way that this man was insinuating what it sounded like.

The next instant, Mustang was filled with a rage that he had never felt before and he lunged forward, intent on violently pummeling this piece of filth into the floor.

"You son of a bitch!"

Edward almost died because of this man and now he was spouting atrocious accusations, Roy's vision seemed to tunnel as he reached to grab the man's jacket. He raised his fist, he was going to break his damn nose. Roy's momentum was abruptly stopped by Maes, wrapping both his arms around his friend's frame.

"Don't!" Maes hissed. With a great deal of force, Hughes pushed Mustang to the side, but Roy fought back, he would not stop until he had wrung Colonel Barrows' neck. Maes shoved Roy again, hard enough to make him stumble backwards. Then, with no hesitation, Hughes turned and belted Barrows across the face. Barrows, who had just been staring with an annoying, amused expression on his face, was so startled that he tripped over his own feet trying to distance himself from Maes. He landed on his backside in an unflattering heap as blood dripped onto the floor from his broken lip. Furious, he looked up at Roy and Maes, but Hughes was already dragging Mustang down the hallway.

"Y-You'll be put on suspension!" Barrows shouted as blood dribbled down his chin.

"Great!" Hughes called back over his shoulder. "I could use the vacation."

A barrage of swear words followed them as they turned the corner, but Maes ignored them.

"Why didn't you let me hit him?" Mustang grumbled. Indeed he was still fighting his friend's grip, intent on returning and beating the man into oblivion.

"You don't need- Roy, stop struggling- you don't need anything else hanging over you."

"You should have let me hit him, Maes, after what he said about Edward..." Mustang finally managed to twist out of Hughes' grip, but the fight had left him as he turned to speak to Hughes directly.

"You're not the only one who wants to protect Edward. I look out for him and you. Both of you," Hughes motioned with his hand, stopping when he saw the blood on his own knuckles.

"Is your hand all right?" Roy asked after a moment.

"It's fine. I don't think it's my blood."

"I wish you would have broken his damn jaw."

"Some other time, maybe." Both men then continued walking down the hallway, the sounds of Colonel Barrows swearing still echoing throughout the building.

"Hughes…"

"Hmmm?"

"Thank you."

Maes grinned widely.

When Roy and Maes drove up, Edward and Alphonse were both sitting on the porch steps waiting for them. Due to Al's frame, the two boys barely fit there, side by side. Havoc walked down the path to meet them, an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"How'd it go?"

"It went fine. How was he?" Roy asked with a nod towards Ed.

"He was fine. Woke up after you left in a bit of a panic, but he settled down pretty fast."

"Did he take his pain pills? Sometimes he refuses."

"Yes, he took them when he woke up."

"Did he eat?"

"Yeah, he had oatmeal."

Hughes suddenly laughed and Roy turned to him with an irritated look.

"What's so funny?"

"Sorry, Roy. You just sound like me after I have to leave Elicia with a babysitter."

"He's been worried about you," Havoc cut in before Roy could respond. "I mean, he didn't say it exactly, but he kept asking about you and your meeting. And I have lunch on the stove, but he wanted to wait for you."

Roy frowned.

"He didn't need to worry." Mustang began walking toward Edward. "You shouldn't be out here. It's too cold for your lungs."

Ed scowled. "I can't just sit inside all day. I get bored."

"You're supposed to be resting. Resting is boring. Do you need me to carry you inside?"

Ed huffed in indignation and he grabbed his crutches that he had put to the side.

"So your meeting went fine?" Al asked hesitantly.

"It went fine." No need to tell them about the fight afterwards.

Alphonse let out a sound of relief.

"You were gone for a long time," Ed commented as he limped into the house.

"That's my fault," Hughes spoke up from behind them. "I had to go fill out a report before we left. Just some paperwork stuff."

Ed seemed content with the information as he moved into the kitchen to take a place at the table. He didn't ask anything else and Roy was relieved.

Soon they were all sitting around the table eating a stew that Havoc had made. Roy didn't actually own more than three bowls and they had to transmute a plate into one so that everyone could eat at the same time.

"Who only owns three bowls?" Edward asked, rolling his eyes.

"Honestly, I'm surprised he owned three," Hughes smirked.

"I don't usually need more than one," Roy muttered.

"Guess you'll have to get used to needing more," Maes smiled. Mustang looked over at Edward who had started eating his stew with gusto. Al told him to slow down, but Ed carried on as though he hadn't heard him.

"Guess I will," Roy said after a moment.

"You're sure you'll be alright?"

"Yes."

"Call me if you need to."

"Mustang, seriously. Al and I are fine."

It was Roy's first day back at work. Edward had been doing well, but the Colonel still felt on edge about leaving the boys alone in his house. He knew it didn't make sense to feel that way. They had been on their own before, they weren't infants.

And yet...

"Alphonse, call me if you have any trouble."

"Yes, Colonel."

"Hey! I'm not going to do anything!"

"I know, I know. I'll be back early."

"Just go already!" Edward waved him off, before turning away to finish his breakfast at the kitchen table.

Roy was surprised by the heavy feeling in his chest as he left for the office. He knew Edward would be fine. He knew Al would call him if there were any problems.

But still...

The worry settled there in his heart and he sighed against the feeling pressing against his lungs.

Edward would be fine.

"Working through lunch?" Hughes asked as he entered Roy's office without knocking. Mustang nodded without looking up from the mind-numbing form he was signing.

"I finish this and I can leave early; before Ed destroys my house."

"I'm sure they're doing fine."

Mustang nodded, giving a noncommittal grunt before he moved onto a new set of forms. He was just beginning to sign his name, when Maes pulled up the spare chair and slowly eased down into it.

That wasn't a good sign.

"Something happened." Roy put his pen down. "Are you being suspended?"

"No, nothing like that." Hughes waved his hand through the air. "I have a written warning in my file. They're not suspending me now over a punch. Seems I've fallen into the good graces of some of the higher ups."

"Well, you did catch a serial killer not long ago."

"That should keep me out of trouble for at least another few months."

Roy sighed, eyeing the large envelope that he had noticed Hughes had in his hand. Nothing good ever happened when his friend brought him files on a lunch break.

"What is that?" Roy finally asked, motioning to the envelope.

"It's a copy of the coroner's report for Sam Barringer."

"Why do you have that?"

"Well, you told me you thought he killed himself, you said that Ed thinks he killed himself... So I looked into it. The report came in this morning."

"I suppose you had to cash in a few favors to get it." Roy said as he reached for the file. Hughes shrugged and handed the envelope over.

"Small favors," Maes muttered and he sighed. "You can read through it, but... Well, it doesn't look like suicide, but it doesn't paint a pretty picture."

Roy grunted, scanning his eyes down the document.

"The strychnine was given to him to treat breathing problems he was complaining of. He didn't take very much. I mean, he did take too much, but he left over half the bottle. If he was really intent on ending things, why would he leave most of the pills? It looks more like he took a double dose on accident."

"He was drunk." Roy said flatly as he set the report down on his desk. There had been proof of alcohol consumption on the scene and in his blood.

"Yes, reportedly, he had a bit of an issue with that."

The Colonel shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

They both went silent for a long moment. Roy frowned deeply and tapped his fingers on his desk.

"Roy..." Maes started. "If you think it will help Edward, you can tell him about this. Tell him it wasn't on purpose. It just... happened."

Roy stared long and hard at the cause of death.

Accidental poisoning.

"He was too damn young," Roy said under his breath.

"What?" Maes asked, tilting his head to one side.

"They're all too damn young," Roy snapped, abruptly standing from his seat. Something that Mustang had been barely holding together for weeks, or maybe even months, finally snapped in his chest. He needed to leave. He couldn't stand to sit still a second longer. "I'm going home."

"Wait, Roy." Maes grabbed the file from the desk. "Wait a second."

Mustang had already grabbed his overcoat from the coat rack and he was moving towards the door.

"I'm done. I'm done today, Maes."

"Roy, hang on," Hughes grabbed his friend's shoulder, forcing him to face him. "What's going on with you?"

Mustang bit back a retort. He didn't know what was going on with him. All he knew was that the pain in his chest had spiked into something else and he felt like his lungs were being crushed. Something about the coroner's report had set something dark and suffocating loose in his mind.

How easily could his own name fit on the top of that report? How close had the name 'Edward Elric' almost been penned into a document like that?

He was so sick of having nightmares about that.

He couldn't do this anymore today, he needed to go home, check on Ed, make sure he was breathing and alive, alive, alive.

Hughes' fingers dug into Roy's shoulders as he pulled his friend into an embrace.

"Just breathe, Roy."

That was ridiculous, he was breathing... Wasn't he? He felt lightheaded and a burning in his lungs. The Colonel took a deep shuddering breath as he forced air into lungs. He dropped his overcoat to the floor and brought his hands up to clench Maes' jacket in shaking hands.

When had the world become this big? When had he started to fall apart?

"Breathe, I'm sorry. I should have told you I was going to get the coroner's report."

Maybe he had never really been put together in the first place.

"I'm fine, Maes," Roy forced out, though his voice shook and betrayed him. He pushed himself away from his friend, though he still grasped Maes' shoulders, grounding himself. "It's been a long few weeks."

"It's been a long lifetime," Hughes smiled sadly.

Roy huffed out a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I will tell Edward about the report. Maybe it will help him," Mustang said finally as he stooped to pick up his overcoat.

"Want me to go with you?"

"No, I can handle it."

Maes beamed at him and Roy sighed, realizing Hughes was acting pleased with him again. Honestly, did Maes have to be that way every time Roy did something vaguely parental?

"I'm really proud of you, Roy."

"All right, enough of that." The Colonel turned and headed out of his office.

Hughes followed him out with that grin on his face the whole time.

Edward went still and didn't say anything when Mustang told him the results of the coroner's report. He had sat Ed down on the couch and asked Alphonse to wait in the other room, though he suspected the younger brother was listening in on the conversation.

"Edward, did you hear me? It wasn't a suicide-"

"You're sure?"

"It doesn't seem like it. It really seemed like an accident."

"You're telling me the truth?"

"Yes. I am telling you the truth. Why-"

"You're not just making stuff up to try to make me feel better?" Edward was staring at him with a sharp intensity.

"No. Why would I do that?"

"Because you would do something like that."

Because it was something a kind person would do. And the Colonel, though he was a bastard, was kind.

"I am telling you the truth. Trust me."

Ed blinked and then nodded.

Not a suicide. But still horrible. Still unfair.

It still hurt.

Ed angrily wiped at his eyes. The Colonel cautiously slipped one arm around his shoulder and Edward wished he hadn't, because it made it worse. Tears spilled down his cheeks and he buried his face into his hands.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. Why did everything have to be so damn hard? Why?

Not fair.

"I know, I know." Roy muttered, patting Edward's back. Ed was mortified that he had been actually talking out loud. "It isn't. You're right. It isn't fair."

They stayed like that for a long time, until Al couldn't keep away any longer and came into the room to offer his own quiet reassurances. They stayed close together, huddled in Mustang's living room until Edward was breathing easily again and the tears were gone from his face.

Roy announced he would make dinner and he left the brothers alone for a while.

"Thank you," Edward said later over his plate of food. Roy nodded.

"Eat the vegetables," the Colonel muttered. Ed rolled his eyes, but stabbed at his peas with a fork.

Slowly but surely, they were going to be alright.

It would come as a surprise when they woke up the next morning to find that they had endured sleep without any nightmares.

While he lay awake in bed that following morning, Roy breathed in and out, listening to the noises of the brothers fill his home.

A feeling of contentment filled his chest.

It felt like peace.

The end.