The Edge of Darkness

"Deep into that darkness

Peering, long I stood there,

Wondering, fearing, doubting,

Dreaming dreams no mortal

Ever dared to dream before."

-Edgar Allan Poe

When Edward missed turning in his report the first time, the Colonel gave him a break. However, he ended up doing that a lot; going easy on Edward when reports were late or incomplete or missing entirely. Ever since Ed's return from personal leave, they hadn't seemed able to adjust back to their routine. The first mission the Colonel sent Edward on had been easy; a dull quality check in a nearby town, but it had taken too long and had exhausted the Fullmetal Alchemist. That report didn't make it onto Mustang's desk for over a week.

"He's probably just tired," Hughes had reassured him when Edward first missed their scheduled meeting time. Roy had nodded in understanding. They were all still tired from the events of the Pace kidnappings. Then weeks went by and Edward was sent on other missions and again the reports lagged.

"He still has a lot on his mind," Hughes commented when Edward called to say he was too sick to meet. Roy rested his elbows on his desk and remained silent. Months went by and the situation didn't change.

"He just needs some time," Hughes stated after the Colonel received a phone call from Al, telling him that his brother wasn't feeling well today and couldn't turn the report in.

"Who are you trying to convince, Hughes?" Roy asked sharply. "It's been over three months. He's had time. That's more time than is usually allowed for any soldier to pull his act together." Roy was glaring at his best friend. The past few months had put a strain on him. Caught between wanting to give Edward the time he needed and frustrated that Fullmetal didn't seem to be bouncing back enough to pull his own weight again.

"Edward isn't just a soldier…" He's a child. The words died on Hughes' lips, but his unspoken thoughts seemed to hang in the air between them. Colonel Mustang knew that Fullmetal was still a child, he knew that better than anyone and he wouldn't appreciate being told that directly.

"Maybe I should have extended his leave," Roy finally said, his posture deflating a bit as he shifted a few unsigned papers around on his desk. Hughes carefully watched his friend's body language. He didn't like the weight that seemed to be bearing down on his shoulders.

"Has he talked about it with you? Everything that happened?" Maes asked cautiously. There had been a detailed report on The Pace Incident. The Pace Kidnappings. The Pace Investigation. The Pace Murders. That's how they refereed to that hellish time of their lives that almost got Edward killed and stretched them all to their limits. Maes hadn't been able to read the full report that came from Colonel Mustang's desk. He had never directly asked Roy about that conversation with Edward. Did Ed disclose the details of the capture and the subsequent torture and fear that he had faced alone? Did he explain how he killed that horrible man without thinking? Hughes hadn't forced himself to ask about it. It seemed like it was too sensitive a subject to push, too fresh a wound to prod at. And maybe Hughes had acted like a coward, waiting for someone to come to him instead of dealing with the issues head on.

"Briefly… right after he got back from leave." Roy leaned away from his desk, further away from Hughes. This wasn't something he wanted to discuss now. "That report was actually turned in in a timelier manner."

"But did he talk to you about how he was… feeling?" Maes leaned forward, trying to keep Roy engaged in their conversation. Roy crossed his arms in front of him and frowned slightly.

"Why don't you ask him, if you're so interested?"

"I tried." Hughes frowned. He had very briefly spoken to Edward months ago, but it hadn't been a very deep conversation and the boy seemed to be avoiding him since then.

"What did he say?"

"He said he was fine."

"Well, then…" Roy uncrossed his arms and shifted the papers around on his desk again.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure he is lying." Maes stared at Roy resolutely until the man finally made eye contact again.

The Colonel sighed deeply, but his face remained stern. "Fullmetal is a military officer and if he doesn't have that report in tomorrow, he will be forced to take a leave of absence while his status as a State Alchemist is reevaluated."

"You'd really have him kicked out?" Hughes raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"No, but that's what I'm going to tell him. Though it's not far from the truth. If the higher ups take notice of his lack effort and results, he could very well be discharged. Enough is enough, Hughes." Enough of this soft spot or whatever the hell it was that he had developed. He was showing too much kindness and, to some, kindness could often be perceived as weakness. Edward was causing him to appear weak and that could be dangerous in his career.

Hughes sighed. "Well, let me know how that goes."

Edward's report was absolute garbage. As Roy tried to make sense of the hastily written scribbles and shoddy sentence structure he could feel himself becoming angrier and angrier. By the time he finally got through the mess of the report, Roy was ready to toss it into the trash where it belonged. As he peered up past the papers, he could see Edward sitting slouched down on his couch. Looking for all the world like he was about to fall asleep.

"Fullmetal," Roy fought to keep his voice even. Edward didn't respond, he just continued to sit perfectly still. "Fullmetal," Roy tried again, raising his voice slightly. When there was no response again, Roy dropped the pages onto his desk and walked briskly over to his subordinate. He had half a mind to give Edward a really good shake, but there was a small part of his mind (the kind/weak part) that was beginning to feel worried. However, soon Roy could see that Ed wasn't asleep, but staring off into space dully. Something about the boy seemed really off today.

"What is wrong with you?" It wasn't exactly the reprimand he had been aiming for, but Roy was surprised by the sense of dread he felt in his chest. Something was wrong. Edward had physically recovered from The Pace Incident. The scars that were visible had faded quite a bit and his hair had grown in to almost look normal again, though the braid was much shorter than it used to be. Edward should mentally be recovering. And yet…

"Nothing. I'm just sick," Ed responded automatically, his eyes still staring vacantly at the other side of the room.

"No, you've told me that before." Just a few months ago, Edward's claims of illness had worked to cover up a whole slew of dangerous secrets. The sense of déjà vu that came over Mustang felt dangerous and darkly terrifying. "Something is wrong."

"It's nothing. My automail hurts and I'm sick. That's it." Edward waved his right arm in the air, but didn't seem to be able to put much strength behind the action.

"Why does your automail hurt? It was months ago when you had it worked on and the weather isn't bad." Roy narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the way his subordinate was moving.

"It always hurts a little." Ed glanced up at his superior officer, a bit startled to see that Mustang was now in close proximity, studying him carefully.

Roy was leaning, staring hard into Fullmetal's eyes. If he just focused hard enough, maybe he could tell what the lie was and what was the truth… but… wait…

"Your pupils are blown." And it was said with such a dumbstruck tone of disbelief that they both just stared at each other for a moment. Roy felt like his brain hadn't really caught up to what he was seeing. Ed's breathing seemed off, his hand was tremoring… But there was no way this idiot boy could possibly do something that stupid.

"Did you take something?" And Roy felt the words get stuck in his mouth as if they were partially made out of paste. He had no idea what his expression looked like, but he imagined he looked stupidly shocked.

"N-No!" Edward stammered and abruptly moved to stand, but Roy blocked him, pushing him back down on the couch. He wasn't going to let him run away this time.

"What did you take?" Roy felt an anger start to build in him again. Stupid, stupid boy! And underneath that anger a small voice seemed to shout 'hypocrite!' from the corner of his thoughts. Long past academy days flashed briefly through Roy's mind. Days of trying too many things and getting a lecture from Hughes afterwards... Then other days after the war, when Roy wondered if maybe he should try something besides the alcohol. Would the nightmares and the madness get better then? Could he stop seeing their dead faces if he took something stronger? Hughes lectured him then too.

"I didn't take anything!" Ed insisted.

"So help me, Edward. Tell me what you've taken." It made sense now, the late reports, the claims of feeling ill…

"Nothing!"

"I will go to your dorm and I will find it myself if you don't tell me."

"There's nothing there! There's nothing to find!" Ed found himself cornered and he became suddenly more frantic, his eyes widening wildly.

"I'll ask Al, he will help me look. Doesn't matter where you've hidden it."

"There's nothing in the dorm! There's nothing there!" As Edward's fist came up to meet Mustang's jaw, the Colonel realized his mistake. Edward Elric still had a problem with sitting still in chairs and Edward Elric would absolutely lose it, if he felt like he was being confined in any way. Roy reeled backwards, the pain being more than he had time to anticipate. He collided with his coffee table and tumbled backwards over it onto the floor before he could really register what was happening. He immediately tasted blood in his mouth and wondered if Ed had just knocked out one of his teeth.

As Roy quickly stumbled to his feet again, he saw Edward standing with one arm still extended, looking horrified at what had just happened. With as much grace as he could manage, Roy spit his mouthful of blood out on the carpet and picked up the conversation where he had left off.

"Where's it then?" His speech was slightly slurred by blood seeping into his mouth. The inside of his cheek was most likely busted open. But it didn't matter how Edward lashed out. Roy was going to get to the bottom of this, before Ed could run away.

"Nowhere." Ed let his arm fall to his side. "It's gone. I threw it out." There was that glazed expression back on Edward's face, as if he wasn't really there anymore. His mind was…elsewhere.

At that moment, two things happened at once. The door to Mustang's inner office opened to reveal Hawkeye and Edward Elric scrunched up his face and began crying. "I haven't taken anything. I haven't." Ed stated quietly through unexpected tears.

Hawkeye gave Edward a concerned glance, before looking to the Colonel and attempting an air of professionalism. She had heard the shouting and was hoping to delicately intervene, but by the bit of blood trailing down Mustang's chin, it looked as if she hadn't made her entrance soon enough.

"Sir, Lieutenant Hughes keeps calling."

"I will call him back. Give us a moment." Mustang swiped the blood away on his chin and gave a nod to Hawkeye to let her know that he was handling the situation. He didn't miss the fleeting expression of skepticism that briefly crossed her features, before returning to her usual stoic mask.

"Yes, sir." Hawkeye shut the door with one last glimpse at Edward, who was stubbornly wiping tears away on his sleeve. There was a moment of silence as Mustang assessed his jaw and came to the conclusion that he indeed had all his teeth intact. Edward could have hit him a lot harder. He was lucky he didn't get his damn jaw broken.

"Have you seen yourself, Edward? You say you threw it out, but you look high."

"I'm not high, you bastard. I'm going through withdrawal."

Anything Roy was about to argue immediately died on his lips as he swallowed the blood in his mouth. Ed rubbed at his eyelids and pressed his fingertips to his temples. He looked as though he was fighting off the worst headache. He probably was.

"Opiates cause pupils to dilate during withdrawal. They constrict when you use them, you stupid Colonel bastard." There was no venom in Ed's voice, he just sounded exhausted.

"Opium." Roy muttered. Idiot child.

"Morphine," Ed corrected as he stared blankly at the small splatter of Mustang's blood on the carpet.

"How did you even get morphine? You weren't allowed any when you were at the hospital because of your head injury."

Edward seemed to be brought back to his current conversation as he raised an eyebrow and gave the Colonel a disbelieving look.

"I transmuted it."

"What?"

"I transmuted it." Edward sounded like this should have been obvious. "Well, I found the right plants while out on a mission and… made it from that."

Roy had never thought to make his own painkillers. He wasn't sure what the laws were in that area, the substance wasn't actually illegal and Edward wasn't selling it on the streets…

"So I sent you on a mission and you went by a poppy field and decided to pick some flowers…"

"No! I just… I mean I did, but it's not like that. I was just… hurting. It wasn't getting better, so I was taking care of it." Edward had shoved his shaking hand into his pocket and was back to staring at the floor.

"There is a reason they didn't give you morphine at the hospital, Edward." Roy could feel his own anger building up again. He needed to calm down or get away from Fullmetal otherwise he might try to strangle the dumb brat.

"My head is fine though! I was just taking care of it myself. It's not a big deal. But I thought it might be too much, so I stopped."

"You thought it might be too much?" Roy's jaw was really starting to hurt. "Obviously. You wouldn't be experiencing withdrawal otherwise." Roy walked briskly back towards his desk and sat down heavily in his chair. He just needed to put space between himself and his subordinate. He couldn't strangle Ed if there was a desk between them. "How long have you been taking morphine?"

"I don't know… months. I'm taking care of it." Ed grumbled as he started to edge towards the door. Roy held up one hand, signaling him to stay where he was.

"How long since you've taken anything?" For the briefest moment, Roy couldn't believe he was actually having this conversation with Edward. Of all the things he thought might be wrong with Fullmetal, this hadn't been on that list.

"About twelve hours ago." Ed shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.

"Does Alphonse know?" Roy picked up a pen and scribbled 'months' and '12 hours' down on a loose sheet of paper.

"I don't think so…" Ed suddenly looked more uncomfortable.

"You don't think so?" Roy narrowed his eyes, studying Edward carefully.

"He might suspect something… but… he can't know." Ed's eyes trailed away again, back to that damn spot of blood on the floor. He looked like he was far away again. Roy needed him to stay in the present.

"You're going to tell him."

"No." Ed's head snapped back to glare at Roy.

"Fullmetal, this is serious. You could be seen as unfit for military duty. An addiction that is interfering with your duties can get you discharged."

"I am not addicted! I was just in pain and I was desperate for something. It was a mistake. I am dealing with it. I just need a few more days." Ed was breathing too hard now and sweat had formed on his brow. There was a pause, while Mustang studied Edward. Maybe this would turn out fine. Ed looked determined enough. He could get through this, just like he had everything else in his young life.

"Listen, Fullmetal. You will report to me first thing in the morning for the next three days."

"Why?" Ed shifted his gaze around the room, blinking hard as if trying to keep things in focus.

"So I can check on your progress."

"Fine." Edward's full attention snapped back to Roy again and it was almost disconcerting how resolutely he was staring at the Colonel.

There was a long, heavy pause. Mustang's eyes softened slightly, but Ed kept his stubborn glare.

"Edward… you could have talked to one of us. If the Pace investigation was still wearing that much on your mind. You could have talked to me… Hughes would have gladly talked with you. You didn't need to …do… this."

"That has nothing to do with this. I was in pain."

"Yes… I believe you were." Roy raised an eyebrow and waited for Edward to say more. There was more to it. There had to be more. Did Edward really believe there wasn't more to that pain he claimed to be feeling? Ed looked slightly confused, but he offered no further insight into his situation. Roy let out a deep breath.

"You're free to go. Report in tomorrow morning. No excuses."

Edward left with one final glare, but it wasn't as hostile as the others. Once he was alone, Roy put his face in his hands and rubbed at his jaw gently.

He needed to call Hughes back.

It was early the next morning when Maes came by to see Roy in his office. None of the rest of his staff had arrived yet, but Roy had been insistent on meeting with Hughes early. Mustang needed another perspective, and he didn't feel like he could be sharing this information with the rest of the world… though Hawkeye may have heard and guessed a great deal of the situation anyway.

Hughes stayed quiet for a long time after Mustang told him. He was sitting with his elbows resting on the desk as Roy sat across from him, purposefully keeping a distance from his friend.

"Did he hit you?" The question surprised Roy, but he supposed it wasn't difficult to deduce with the way one side of his face appeared bruised and swollen. Roy nodded, but a swell of guilt rose within him. He had been stupid. He had pushed Edward first, forgetting that Ed was still suffering. He was still battling fears and demons that he didn't even understand.

"I pushed him." And there was that bit of shame again. He had lost his temper so quickly, he hadn't been thinking.

"You mean you actually, physically pushed him?"

"It wasn't hard, but he… reacted."

Maes worked his jaw for a moment. Still processing the situation.

"I should have tried harder to talk to him," Hughes finally said. "I should have invited him over to the house. I should have insisted. I should have-"

"Maes, stop." Mustang interrupted the tirade before he could really get going. "Don't do that. He's not your subordinate. He's not your responsibility."

"Stop. You're not helping anything by blaming yourself. We're not helping anything." Maes leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes as he let out a sigh. "I feel too old today. Why do I feel so old lately?"

"It's a byproduct of an abundance of shitty life experiences, Hughes," Roy said, crossing his arms over his chest. Maes let out a mirthless laugh.

"It hasn't all been so bad, Roy. I mean this, this current situation isn't good and I don't know what to tell you to do about it and a few months ago, things were pretty bad, but life…" Hughes sat up in his chair again. "Well, it keeps going anyway."

"Was that an inspiring speech? Should I tell that to Edward when he gets here? I'm sure he will really appreciate it, as he is going through his 32nd hour of withdrawal."

Hughes ignored the sarcasm. "How long is it supposed to take for him to get it out of his system?"

"Depends on how much he was taking, but I've done some research and it will probably be around 72 hours."

"I don't know anything about this. You never got that deep into anything. Usually I just had to make sure you didn't aspirate on your own vomit during the night."

"Sorry for not being young and stupid enough to supply you with the appropriate knowledge."

"He's not stupid." Maes said abruptly. "Ed's not dumb… but he has made a bad decision in this. Roy, if he can pull himself out of it, if he can find the strength to do that, I wouldn't be surprised... But if he can't… If this is harder than he thought it would be... I don't think he should be alone with just Alphonse. Especially when he is so set on not telling Alphonse the whole truth."

"He didn't seem to want my help."

"You didn't always ask for my help, but I never left you alone, Roy. Not when you needed me there." Not on those nights when they were young and Roy was too intoxicated to be safe and not on those nights after the war that were filled with so much darkness it threatened to destroy everything. "I can't have Edward at my home. Not around Elicia,.. I don't know a lot about going through withdrawal, but I know it's not pretty. I can't have her seeing him like that. But you, you could stay with him."

Well, what the hell was Roy supposed to say to that? Roy motioned uselessly with one hand, but no words accompanied the motion. He ended up just gaping like a fish out of water.

"He has Alphonse," Roy finally settled on.

"You really think this is something Alphonse should go through alone? You know he is actually younger than Ed, right?"

Of course Roy knew that! But still… He couldn't do this either. He didn't know how to take care of other people. Protect them and have their back, sure, but taking care of a sick, violent teenager, hurting and desperately wanting to get a fix? No. That did not sound plausible.

"He'll be fine," Roy hoped.

Maes soon went back to his own office to start his work day and the morning passed by as usual. The rest of Mustang's subordinates showed up one after another and they were soon busying themselves with various tasks. As the morning wore on, Roy wondered if he should have given Edward an exact time. That way, he would know exactly how irritated to be with the small alchemist's tardiness.

A few minutes before noon, Colonel Mustang received a call from Alphonse Elric. Edward had left early that morning and not returned, even though he said he would be right back. Al was starting to really worry.

"Alphonse…" Roy didn't know how to do this. "Has your brother been acting strange?"

"Strange?"

"Well, did he seem sick this morning?"

"Yes, but brother has been getting sick a lot lately. I've tried to tell him to go to the hospital, but he won't go." Al sounded frustrated. Roy really couldn't do this.

"Alphonse, I'm going to have Hughes meet you. Stay there. We'll find him."

Alphonse had seemed confused at first, but he was grateful for the help. After a quick call to Maes, Roy departed his office and ordered Havoc to accompany him.

"What's going on?" Jean asked casually as he quickened his pace to match Mustang's.

"Fullmetal has run off. You've found him before when he was missing. Also… he seems fond of you. I'm hoping you can get him to come back quietly."

"Well, sure I'll try. But what happened with the kid now?"

"He's…" Roy didn't know how much information to give. "… been sick," he finished lamely. Havoc nodded and didn't ask any more questions. Maybe he had seen it already. It was obvious now that something had been off with Edward for quite some time. Maybe they had all just been waiting for him to reach out, take the first step and ask for help. They had been wrong. Edward Elric would self-destruct before reaching out to any of them. Roy wondered how he could have failed someone so miserably.

Hours passed and they didn't find Edward. They had started at Central Command, checking the toilets, library and dorms, before they worked their way out into the city. Havoc and Alphonse paired up and were searching some public places that the Elric brothers had been known to visit occasionally. They had all agreed to call and check in with Hawkeye who was waiting back at the office, in case Edward decided to show up there.

Roy and Maes were debating about checking the rougher part of the city, when Roy called back to the office to check in.

"Sir," Hawkeye sounded worried, which was not a good sign. "Edward Elric is here. You need to come back."

"He showed up? Where the hell has he been?" Roy felt relief and anger all at the same time.

"He is not talking. I couldn't get very close to him, but he looked like he has been in a fight."

"Couldn't get close to him?" Roy asked, confused.

"No, Colonel. He is… disorientated."

He wasn't sure if that meant Edward was high or having a panic attack or some combination of the two. Perhaps Hawkeye wasn't sure either.

"We're on our way, Lieutenant."

It took longer than Roy wanted to make their way back to his office. Once they got there, Hawkeye quietly lead them into Roy's inner office. The rest of Roy's staff tried to look busy, but they all knew something was wrong.

Upon entering his private workspace, Roy didn't see anyone and his first thought was that Edward had run off again, but then Hawkeye gestured silently at his desk and Roy realized his chair had been toppled over. Roy, followed closely by Hughes, walked behind his desk and knelt down. Edward was wedged underneath the Colonel's desk, hugging his knees to his chest with his automail arm.

Ed looked like he had been in a scuffle. His hair was a mess and there was dirt on his clothes. Edward also seemed to be sporting a black eye. The boy didn't take notice of the faces peering at him. He just sat perfectly still, hand tremoring slightly, his flesh fingers clasped around…

"Is that your bottle of whisky?" Maes asked glancing at Roy. Mustang frowned. His personal supply of alcohol had been in his desk. He didn't think anybody besides Maes and Hawkeye even knew about it. Mustang had just bought the new bottle and it had been expensive. Hughes slowly reached over and pulled the glass container from Edward's grasp. Ed still didn't respond.

"I don't think he even drank any of it. It's still full." Maes sat the bottle to the side and edged closer towards Ed. At this point, Hawkeye had taken several steps back and was observing the situation from near the door.

"Edward." Roy tried to get his attention. Ed shut his eyes and pressed his face into his knees.

"Edward," Maes tried, inching even closer. "Can you hear me? Did you take something?"

Ed made a low keening sound, but didn't respond.

"We're not mad at you, but we need to know if we need to take you to the hospital."

Edward looked up at this and shook his head slowly. Mustang made a mental note that his pupils were indeed constricted.

"Please don't. I'm fine," Ed rasped. "I only took a little, but it didn't really help and I wanted more, but I knew I shouldn't… everything hurts all the time." Ed hit the back of his head against the wooden slat behind him. The desk shook slightly and Edward furrowed his brow at the jolting movement of his sanctuary.

"Ed… how much did you take? Where did you get it?"

"Some opium den in the city. I transmuted it though. I didn't take it as it was."

"What happened to your face?" Roy asked.

"Got punched by some jerk. He saw my watch and thought it might be worth something. He kicked my automail though. I think he broke his foot."

"Edward… you're buying drugs in the city, you're getting into fights with junkies, you took a bottle of alcohol-"

"I didn't drink any." Ed knocked his head back against the desk harder and shut his eyes tightly.

Hughes reached forward and gently placed a hand on Edward's shoulder. "You were thinking about it. All of this because you were having withdrawal… Do you really think you are fine?"

Ed didn't say anything.

"Are you really fine?" Hughes continued. "You've been lying to Al. Transmuting a substance without anyone's knowledge and taking too much. Does that sound normal to you? Does it sound like something you would do normally?"

Ed sluggishly shook his head.

"Are you fine? Or do you think that you might have a problem?" Hughes sounded so calm. Roy didn't know how he managed it.

"I'm not… it's not like that. I'm just…"

"You're hiding under my desk," Roy supplied. Hughes gave his friend a quick look. That's not helpful, he mentally chided.

"I was… I couldn't…" Edward threw his head back hard. The movement caused the desk to give a great shudder and the sound reverberated throughout the office. Before Maes could react, Edward repeated the action again and again in quick succession. Hughes regained his sense and thrust his hand between Edward's skull and the wooden surface. He wanted to grab Edward and pull him out then, but he didn't know what was going on in Ed's mind. Grabbing him would likely send him into a complete panic attack, but he couldn't allow him to hurt himself anymore. Hughes' hand was struck a few times, but Edward eventually stopped and went still again.

"Breathe Edward. It's all right. Just breathe. You can trust us. We're not angry, but I am a little heartbroken over this right here."

"Heartbroken?" Ed asked, his voice catching in his throat as tears in his eyes threatened to spill over.

"Yeah, you're breaking my heart, boy. I can see you need help. Can you see it?"

"You don't understand," Ed whispered.

"I'm right here. Explain it to me then."

"It never goes away. It's not going away. They said it would get better, but it doesn't." A tear fell down Ed's cheek.

"I know, Ed. I know what that's like. But this isn't the answer. This can't be the answer."

Something seemed to jolt into place in Edward's mind then and he blinked owlishly.

"Something is wrong with me… I've messed up." Tears began falling freely then and Edward looked almost as broken as when they had found him in that hellish shack in the woods all those months ago.

"It's going to be all right. I promise. We'll help you." Maes looked over at Roy again and the Colonel gave a nod. With a sad smile, Hughes extended both of his hands out to Edward and after a moment of brief hesitation, Ed tilted and fell into those arms and allowed himself to be pulled from his hiding place and into an embrace.

"You're all right. You're all right. Just breathe. In through your nose… out through your mouth. It's going to be all right."

Through the pain and the fog and the fear, Edward chose to believe those words.

Brother has nightmares. He doesn't like to talk about them. When I watch over him at night, I can usually calm him down very quickly if I just tell him he is alright. If that doesn't work, you just have to try and talk to him until he calms down. Give him space and don't touch his hair when he is very upset. It will make things worse.

~'~'~

Shortly after Hughes left, Edward wandered back upstairs and Roy found himself standing alone in his kitchen staring at the basket of muffins. No. He wasn't hungry and now that he had coffee in his system, he wasn't feeling tired anymore either. Instead, it was as though an uncomfortable pressure had built up in his head. Uneasiness swept through him, making him feel as if he was standing on some great precipice and any wrong move would send him hurtling over the edge. Mustang's finger's twitched at the restlessness of it all. He felt like he was going to plunge over into nothingness, if he didn't find something to distract himself soon.

He stalked towards his kitchen sink and began vigorously cleaning the mug he had left there. Once that was done, he attacked the counters then; scrubbing them with an unnecessary harshness. As he moved through his kitchen he didn't allow himself to think of anything, but the task at hand. And if his hands shook a little between movements, he was too busy to notice.

An hour or so later, Roy was on his knees, meticulously scrubbing his bathroom floor with an old bristle brush. He was focusing so intensely on his task that he had succeeded in blocking out everything else. He had already cleaned up some stray vomit that Edward had managed to splatter around the toilet and now he was focusing on cleaning every tile until it was spotless. He was so absorbed that he wasn't aware that he wasn't alone until Edward knelt on the floor in the doorway. Startled, the Colonel looked up and realized the boy had been calling him.

"Do you need to use it?" Roy gestured to the room. Ed shook his head, but he looked genuinely confused and a little worried.

"What are you doing?" Edward finally asked after an uncomfortable silence.

"I would think it would be obvious." Roy continued on with his work, scrubbing harshly at the baseboard. Ed watched him for a minute with a frown.

"Sorry if I messed up your floor." Edward stood up again to leave and Mustang realized the boy's expression had been showing hurt and shame.

No, it's the exact opposite of that. "You didn't mess up the floor. I just needed to clean it." Especially, if you are going to pass out on it again at any point.

"How are you feeling?" Roy asked as he started scrubbing a section of the wall.

"I've been better…Are you alright?" Ed was leaning against the doorframe now, peering interestedly at the Colonel.

"Why do you ask that?"

"You look… like you might not be alright."

"I'm fine," Roy answered quickly.

Edward shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but said nothing else. After a time, he left the Colonel and went back to the dark room. Truthfully, Ed was feeling nauseous and he kept sweating and he had a headache that would come and go. However, despite the body aches that had started, Ed seemed to have trouble sitting still. He ran his fingers over the dust on the bedside table and for not the first time, he wondered when was the last time Mustang had actually used his own room…

Roy stopped scrubbing the wall abruptly when he felt a wave of lightheadedness come over him. After the feeling passed, he became aware of the pain in his back and fingers. His hands were protesting from the constant scrubbing he was doing and they were starting to cramp up. His stomach was grumbling and he realized that he had no idea how much time had passed.

Upon exiting the bathroom, he paused when he heard movement in Edward's room. He had assumed the boy was resting, but that's not what it sounded like. Mustang looked in through the open door to find Edward with a dust cloth in hand, struggling to reach a spot on top of the dresser. A circle of untouched dust on the surface was all that remained from Ed's efforts. The boy had been around the dresser reaching everything he could, but now there was a perfect round spot that remained just out of reach. The rest of the room had been dusted as well and Roy stared as Ed gave up and tossed the rag across the dresser's top, apparently hoping it would pick up dust as it skimmed the wood and then fell over the other side.

"Edward…"

Ed jumped slightly in surprise and just stared at Mustang blankly, as if he was actually surprised the Colonel was still in the house. Edward snapped out of it and went to pick up his discarded rag. The boy had dust clumps sticking to his clothes and scattered through his hair. He looked like a mess.

"What?" The boy asked with a note of irritation.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm trying to make the room livable. Do you like that lamp?"

"The lamp?"

"Yeah, would you freak out if I transmute it to look more interesting?" Ed folded the cloth so that the cleanest side faced outward.

"Leave the lamp alone, Edward."

Edward tossed the dust rag onto the top of the dresser, where it settled just out of reach.

"Fine." Ed glanced around the room. "What time is it? You don't have a clock in here."

"Alarm clock is downstairs. It's…" Roy trailed off, remembering he didn't know how much time had gone by either, he took a guess based on the amount of sunlight filtering in through the bedroom window. "It's almost noon."

It's been nearly 24 hours then. Edward seemed to do the math in his head too as he grimaced at the news. Ed stalked over to the bed and grumpily flung himself down onto the mattress. He then glared up at the ceiling in discontent.

"You should take a shower. You look like you need it." Roy finally said.

"You first." Edward rolled over so that his back was to Mustang.

"Either eat or shower."

"I'm not hungry."

"Then shower."

Roy's tone of authority had no impact on Edward and he made no effort to move from the mattress. Mustang would have to switch tactics.

"Look Edward, you can go shower now or I can stand here and keep talking to you about it. You could save us both a lot of time if you just did it."

Edward's back straightened slightly, but he wouldn't budge from the bed. Fine, then.

"Is there a reason you don't want to shower? You prefer to be covered in dust and dirt? Are you just trying to be difficult? Are you… afraid of it for some reason?" Mustang saw Edward twitch slightly at that. Perfect. Just perfect. Roy ran through the facts in his mind, trying to figure out why Ed would be scared of water. To his knowledge, nothing had actually happened to Ed around water. He didn't see it on Alphonse's list. But maybe Al hadn't noticed it before? He couldn't figure it out now so he decided to switch strategies again. "Are you worried about slipping down the drain because you're so small?"

"I'm not small!" Edward jumped up from the bed and stormed past the Colonel. There we go.

"Towels are in the linen closet." Roy supplied helpfully.

Roy had made more coffee and was sitting at his kitchen table, considering the homemade muffin in front of him. Despite his stomach grumbling, he didn't feel like eating, but he knew he should try to be a good example. He was temporarily rescued from his predicament, when he heard a knock at the door. While he wasn't expecting anyone, he wasn't actually that surprised to find Second Lieutenant Havoc on his porch. Jean was grinning as he presented Mustang with two bags of groceries.

"I've been given some extra time for my lunch break, so I figured I would stop by with some supplies."

Roy took one of the bags from Havoc. "Tell Lieutenant Hawkeye that I appreciate the concern, but it wasn't necessary."

Havoc just grinned broadly at that.

"Ed hasn't driven you up the wall yet?"

"No, it's fine," Roy muttered as they both moved into the kitchen.

"Where is he? Is he sleeping?" Havoc began unloading his supplies onto the kitchen table.

"He is upstairs showering." Roy mirrored Havoc, emptying his bag of its contents.

"Great. Where do you keep your pots and pans?"

"Why?" Roy was eyeing the food suspiciously. This really wasn't necessary.

"Well, I haven't eaten yet and I have been informed by a reliable source that Ed likes stew. I figured I would make some."

"Everything is in the lower cupboard."

Mustang surrendered his kitchen to his subordinate. He offered to help, but Havoc told him to sit down and relax. I must look terrible. Roy thought. Truthfully, he felt terrible. His clothes felt stale and dirty and his head still ached. He had been fighting that churning feeling in his stomach all morning and he wasn't sure what was causing it, but he certainly didn't feel like actually eating.

Edward wandered into the kitchen with his hair still damp. Havoc greeted him enthusiastically, and Ed looked confused.

"What are you doing here?" Ed asked.

"Making lunch." Havoc said simply with a grin. Ed shook his head slightly, but seemed to accept the explanation.

Roy was sitting at the kitchen table, having just made it through one of the muffins. He motioned to the basket and nodded at Ed.

"Eat something." Roy tried.

"Why? Isn't he making lunch?"

"It's going to take some more time. Try to eat something."

"I don't really…" Ed began, but Roy cut him off.

"If we don't eat some of these, Hughes is going to find out and he is never going to shut up about it. So just try."

At the mention of Hughes, Ed frowned and picked out a muffin from the basket. He held it in his hand and wrinkled his nose at it.

"They're good." Havoc commented. The Second Lieutenant had already helped himself to two of them. Ed picked a bit off of his muffin and studied the crumbs between his fingers. He sniffed loudly as his nose had begun to run again.

"I'm going to take a shower," Mustang announced. He couldn't sit here and watch Edward eat a muffin one crumb at a time. It was too frustrating to watch.

"Sounds good," Jean said offhand as he continued to stir. Edward didn't comment and instead turned his attention to Havoc to watch him work.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Roy took a deep breath and shut his eyes tightly. This headache just wasn't leaving and the muffin he had forced himself to eat felt like it was sitting like a rock in his stomach. Just breathe…

Roy exhaled and continued up the stairs.

When Roy returned, wearing fresh clothes and feeling slightly more normal, he found Edward sitting on his countertop and talking casually with Havoc. His first reaction was to tell the kid to get off the counter, but stopped himself when he realized Edward was probably more comfortable sitting there then on a kitchen chair. There was half of a muffin in Edward's hand and Roy counted that as a success.

However, Ed's demeanor changed when Roy entered the room and he hopped off the counter on his own.

"Can I go sleep upstairs?" Ed asked quietly.

"You don't need to ask. If you need to sleep, go ahead."

Ed nodded and quickly left, indeed looking pale and worn out. Roy moved to Jean's side and watched his progress.

"Chief's having a rough time, huh?" Havoc asked as he picked up the abandoned half muffin and moved it further to the side out of the way of his chopped vegetables. Roy grunted an affirmative.

"You all right there, Boss?" Jean asked, studying Mustang.

"Do you need help with any of this?" Roy needed to keep busy.

"You can peel potatoes if you want."

Time passed in relative silence and the house was more or less peaceful. It was easy to listen to the sounds of the pans and utensils. Having something to do was helping the anxiety that he felt was creeping around the edges of his mind. Making lunch seemed simple and relaxing in a way. However, beneath the sounds of cooking, something else made it to Roy's ears.

Clunk…Tap…. Clunk… Tap….

Mustang blinked. What was that? He looked around until his gaze landed on Edward standing in the doorway.

Clunk… Tap… Clunk… Tap…

The boy looked kind of dazed and his eyes even seemed to be watering. Though what could have caused the boy to start crying, Roy couldn't guess. Mustang glanced down and saw that Edward was swinging his bare automail foot back and forth, allowing the heel to hit the wooden floor and then pulling his leg back and tapping the ground with automail toes. Clunk… Tap… Clunk… Tap.

"I thought you were going to sleep," Roy finally said.

Havoc turned around, realizing for the first time that they had company.

"Can't sleep." Ed mumbled. Clunk… Tap… Clunk… Tap…

"What are you doing, Fullmetal?"

Ed looked confused and Roy motioned to his still swinging leg. Edward blinked, but his eyes continued to water… the boy didn't look particularly upset though…

"Something's loose," Ed finally remarked.

"Loose?" Roy asked in confusion.

"Yeah, something's rattling around."

"Does… that happen often?" Havoc asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No. I think I messed it up a little over a week ago and it got kicked pretty hard yesterday too."

Clunk… Tap… Clunk… Tap…

"How did you mess it up a week ago?" Roy asked. Edward hadn't mentioned in any report that he had done anything dangerous. Nothing that would break his automail, surely. Ed just shrugged at the question and Roy felt a spark of irritation at that.

"Will it need to be fixed?" Jean asked.

"Eventually, should be fine for now… it's rattling though. Can you hear it?"

"I don't, but it's your leg, Chief."

Ed hit his heel harder on the floor. "You don't hear it?" This question he directed at Roy, but Mustang shook his head.

"All I hear is you stomping your foot on the floor."

Ed repeated the action. "There, there, hear it?"

Roy shook his head. Edward scowled and then turned abruptly and stomped to the living room where he sat down heavily on the couch. He propped his leg up on the cushion and pulled his pant leg up in irritation. His fingers fumbled along the metal calf urgently. Mustang moved to the entranceway to the room and was watching Ed closely. He couldn't see what the boy was doing over the back of the couch, but he observed as Ed became more irritated as his fingers failed to find an easy opening to pry out whatever the problem was.

"Seriously." Ed muttered to himself and he slapped his hands together and there was a flash of light as Ed transmuted a new opening into his automail. Ed gave his leg a rough shake then, but nothing seemed to happen. "Come on," Ed said through gritted teeth.

"What are you doing?" Roy tried. Because Edward was behaving a bit too desperate and it was giving Roy an unsettled feeling. Ed ignored the Colonel and began trying to force a metal plate out of the way, his fingers scrabbling frantically now.

"Ed, calm down." Roy muttered. Edward's breathing had picked up.

"I'm not imagining it," Ed announced loudly.

"Nobody said you were." Roy tried to sound calm, as if Edward wasn't really beginning to alarm him. He moved in closer, hoping to actually see what the boy was trying to do.

"Damnit." Ed hissed when he failed again to locate the exact problem.

He stood up quickly and stomped hard. "It's there, I swear."

"Edward, I believe you, sit down."

"I can't sit there if you're going to stand behind me!" Ed's face had turned bright red as he completely lost it. Shit. That had been on the list. "Just go back in the kitchen. This isn't your problem!" Edward stomped his foot again and suddenly looked down, startled out of his tirade. He quickly stooped down and retrieved something from the floor. Edward triumphantly held aloft what appeared to be a screw, but all Roy saw was the bit of red staining Edward's fingertips.

"You're bleeding." Roy remarked, dumbstruck that Edward had managed to hurt himself, right in front of him.

"It's nothing; caught my finger on a rough edge."

"Edward." Roy moved around the couch slowly. The blood was dripping down his hand now and Ed just stood there as if he wasn't seeing it.

"Don't worry about it." Ed leaned away from Roy's closer proximity.

"Let me see it."

"It's fine. I can take care of it."

"Just let me see it." Roy held out his hand, he wanted to be sure that he hadn't hurt himself too much.

"Leave me alone." And that was said with such venom that Roy had it in his mind to stop what he was doing and just walk away. Ed pivoted, turning to retreat back upstairs when his leg gave out and he promptly collapsed to the floor.

"Edward!"

And now Ed was between the couch and the coffee table and Roy didn't know how to approach him. Roy peered down at him, trying to examine Edward's situation, but give him space he might need. Ed had both of his hands over his face, pressing his fingertips into his temple. The blood from his fingers smeared across his forehead and Roy's stomach twisted at seeing Ed covered in blood again. Edward was obviously breathing too rapidly now and Mustang was concerned he would hyperventilate. But then Ed managed a huge, deep breath and seemed to pull himself back from the verge of panic.

"I'm fine." Ed finally said, voice shaking slightly.

"Do you need help?" Roy asked as he knelt near Ed's feet.

"Just leave me alone for a minute." The venom from before was gone. Instead there was a pitiful wavering in the boy's voice that Roy had seldom heard.

Roy stayed perfectly still, watching as Ed slowly regained his bearings. Havoc was hovering in the kitchen doorway, looking unsure of what to do. Mustang held up his hand, motioning for the man to stay there. The Colonel waited. He could be patient and he wasn't going to leave Ed alone, not when he looked like he might still slip into a panic and not when he sounded so miserable. A few deep breaths later, Ed seemed to regain his composure and he sat up very slowly.

"I… shouldn't have transmuted it. I wasn't thinking and I messed it up. Winry's going to kill me." Edward's voice was better now. The tremor was gone, but he still sounded a bit lost.

"Can't you put it back?"

"The casing? Yeah, but I must have damaged something else. There are a lot of pieces… Something must have disconnected or I weakened a support… I'm such an idiot."

"Can I see your hand?" Mustang had priorities here. Edward bleeding all over his living room was high up on his list of concerns. Self-condemnation and malfunctioning automail could wait a little longer.

Ed grimaced, but then gave a gentle nod and held his hand out to the Colonel. There was a neat slice in the tips of his middle and index fingers. The cuts were relatively small, but still bleeding freely; dripping to the floor and down Ed's palm. They could probably use a stitch or two. Edward seemed to always need to be stitched back together these days. If Roy could get the bleeding to stop, maybe that would be enough.

"Havoc, bring me the first aid kit. There should be one under the kitchen sink."

"Sir," Havoc responded quickly and jumped at the opportunity to be useful.

While the Colonel bandaged his hand, Edward seemed to mentally check out. Ed was now looking paler than before and exhaustion had taken hold of him as he stared blankly at nothing.

Havoc wet his handkerchief and began wiping the drying blood from the boy's forehead. Edward didn't react to that either. Roy didn't know if it was a sign of trust or just a matter of Ed not being in the present. After a long period of silence, Ed mumbled something that Roy didn't catch.

"What's that, Chief?" Havoc asked, pausing in his ministrations.

"I'm going to be sick."

There was a brief pause and then a flurry of motion as Mustang scrambled to the kitchen to grab some sort of container. Havoc tried to see if he could get Edward to move from the living room, but the boy just shook his head, covering his mouth with his freshly bandaged fingers. Roy dove over the arm of the couch and shoved a large metal bowl under Ed's chin just in time.

There wasn't much they could do until Edward was finished expelling the half of a muffin he had eaten earlier. Havoc had sat down on the couch close to Ed, but kept a space between them. Jean had figured out which times it was best to keep his distance. In fact, Ed's reaction to physical contact had been unpredictable for months. Havoc had realized this very early on in Edward's recovery and he was pretty good at deciphering Ed's moods. He usually knew when he could get close and when he needed to stay back.

Once Edward was done, Roy took the bowl away and left quickly to clean it out. Ed and Havoc were left alone in the quiet room.

"Edward?" Havoc whispered, leaning forward to get a better look at the boy's face. With the damp handkerchief he cleaned away tears, snot and saliva. While he did his best to clean him up, Edward turned his glazed eyes to Havoc and sluggishly blinked at the man.

"You threw up," Havoc supplied helpfully. Ed let out a choked noise that almost sounded like a laugh. "How are you feeling?"

"Hurts." Ed mumbled. And Havoc was so surprised that Edward hadn't insisted that he was fine, that he could only stare. A few months ago, Jean had found the boy with his face pressed against a toilet seat and he had still insisted that he was fine at first. Jean glanced up as Roy walked into the room, but hesitated in the entranceway. I guess a lot of things have happened since then, Havoc thought as he turned back to Ed again.

"What's hurting?"

"Everything hurts…" Ed choked. "Everything."

And then Mustang was there, placing a glass of water on the coffee table and the cleaned bowl on the floor.

"Try to relax, Edward." Mustang said as he knelt again on the floor. "Lay down. Try to rest."

Ed gave a cautious glance at the couch cushions.

"Couch is yours, not supposed to sleep on it," Ed mumbled.

Havoc gave the Colonel a confused look and Roy shook his head, feeling embarrassed now that he had been so adamant about Edward staying away from the couch and making the boy sleep in the unused room upstairs.

"It's fine, Ed. I don't care."

After a moment, Ed nodded and lowered himself down and curled up on the couch cushions. Havoc helped to maneuver the boy's malfunctioning automail onto the couch and gave the boy's flesh foot a gentle pat.

Ed looked exhausted and sick and scared... Mustang grabbed a nearby folded blanket and placed it over Edward. Ed jumped slightly at the sensation of the blanket covering him, but he settled quickly when he realized he wasn't in danger. Roy sat on the floor near Edward's head and began murmuring softly.

"Just breathe. This isn't going to last forever. I promise it won't… It won't… "

Roy stayed that way, repeating his promise over and over until Edward closed his eyes and seemed to be able slip into a light sleep.

"You're going to be all right." Roy whispered.

Havoc was standing on Roy's back step, eagerly smoking a cigarette. He nodded to Mustang when the Colonel found him standing there. They both stood in silence for a long moment.

"The stew is simmering." Havoc finally said. Roy made a noncommittal noise. Jean took a long drag from his cigarette.

"Has it been bad? With the kid?"

"I would say that was one of the lower points so far. I don't know if mood swings are a symptom, or if that's just his charming, stubborn personality coming through."

"I would wager on symptom, but… some of that is from trauma too, isn't it? Before he was taken, he never panicked like that. Kid's been off kilter since that bastard got to him."

"He seemed to be getting better."

"Did he? I hadn't noticed much of a difference from when he first got out of the hospital."

Mustang began going over the events of the past few months in his mind. He had been telling himself that Edward was getting better. Slowly, but he was improving. The stitches were out, the scars were fading. But no. Edward hadn't been improving. Not really. Not at all. He had gotten caught up in the idea that Edward should be improving. He should be strong enough to overcome anything. And he had done almost nothing to help him. He had left that boy alone to heal. Assuming space and busywork was what he had needed to get over everything. Roy knew he had failed, claiming blame for the situation without even fully comprehending the depth of his misjudgment. Where had he been? Too wrapped up in his own feelings of inadequacy. Wasting away his free time drinking and staring at the walls of his home. Cutting himself off from the world, because he had felt like a failure for almost allowing Edward to be killed; and in feeling that way he separated himself from the small alchemist and he made the situation so much worse. And this whole time, Havoc was watching Edward and picking up on things that the Colonel hadn't been allowing himself to see. Roy had behaved disgracefully and now he couldn't put things right because he was still wrapped up in himself. Head pounding, heart racing and fingers twitching, aching to just be given a glass of something that would allow him to forget for a while what was going on. He really was a coward.

Jean offered an unlit cigarette to Roy. Mustang took it without hesitation.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"You look like you need it." Havoc replied. That was true.

"Don't tell Hughes," Mustang said.

"Your secret is safe with me, Colonel."

Edward wasn't exactly sleeping. He could hear Mustang talking for a long time, but he just didn't care enough to respond. He hadn't been sleeping well for days and the previous night on the bathroom floor had left him feeling more exhausted. But no matter how much he just wanted to sleep through this, it was like there was a part of his mind that wouldn't let him completely rest. A part of his mind kept buzzing on, keeping him from falling into a deep sleep.

It didn't help that absolutely everything hurt. His automail ports ached and his head throbbed and his chest always hurt. Like his heart was going to rip itself out of its cavity at any moment.

That's a part of it. Edward's mind reminding him mockingly. No. All the pain he was feeling couldn't all be from the withdrawal. The whole reason he had started taking the morphine was because he had been hurting. Hurting and not sleeping. Nobody seemed to understand that. He knew they wouldn't understand. That's why he had decided to transmute the morphine himself.

You've made yourself numb for so long, that you can't handle anything without it anymore. No. It hadn't been that bad. He wasn't using that much…

You lost track of how much. He had been busy.

You ran out faster than you realized. It's not like he had made that much in the first place.

You were lying to Al about where you were going, what you were doing. Al wouldn't understand. There wasn't a reason to worry him over it.

You needed it.

…Yes.

And that scared you.

Ed's stomach churned as acid crept up his throat, burning and threatening to spill into his mouth. But was taking the morphine really so bad? It had allowed him to sleep. It made the pain better. It would be better than feeling the way he did now. This… this felt like dying. How could this be the better option? The Colonel was off somewhere right now. It wouldn't be hard to get away from here. He could slip away into the city, he only needed a little, he could take a smaller amount, just enough to let him sleep. Creating it from opium had been different than the poppy pods and stalks. No need for sodium carbonate to hasten the process. It was just a matter of separating the morphine from the other opium alkaloids. It was easy. He could do it. And then he could sleep again. Sleep without those horrible nightmares of murderers and dead faces and waterfalls that he heard all the time...

No.

"Colonel!" Ed called, sitting up from his position on the couch suddenly. He rubbed hard at his eyes. "Mustang!" Edward screamed desperately into his hands. A door slammed somewhere in the house and soon Roy was stumbling into the room, looking about as frantic as Ed had ever seen him.

"What happened? Are you going to be sick? The bowl is there on the floor."

"No, it…it's nothing." Ed dropped his hands from his face. Why did he do that? What was he doing?

"Did… you have a nightmare?"

"No. Forget it." He couldn't do it. He couldn't rely on him this much.

"Edward…"

"Just forget it!" Ed yelled again.

Mustang clenched his jaw. After a brief moment of hesitation he stalked over to the armchair adjacent to the couch and sat down heavily. He crossed his arms and said nothing else.

"What are you doing?" Ed finally asked.

"Waiting."

"What for?"

"How are your fingers feeling?" Roy deflected the subject.

"Fine," Ed said with a scowl. He lay back down on the couch and turned away, pressing his face into the cushions. However, the restricted airflow bothered him more than he realized it would and Ed rolled onto his back instead. Somewhere in his mind he knew he was behaving erratically. He had been the one to call for the Colonel and now he was acting as if Mustang was the one intruding. The Colonel was going out of his way to help and all Ed could do was make the situation as difficult as possible for him. Edward took a deep breath, he just couldn't help it. He was in pain and he felt so angry and upset all the time. Suddenly, Ed picked up on a familiar scent that seemed to have wafted into the room. "Were you smoking?" Ed asked, looking curiously now at the Colonel.

"What?" Roy seemed genuinely startled by the question.

"You smell like smoke."

"Havoc is on the back porch. It must be coming from outside."

Ed looked like he was going to ask another question when the phone rang. Grateful for the distraction, Roy moved quickly into the hallway to answer it.

"Hey Roy! How are things going? You both doing all right?" The voice of Hughes greeted him cheerily.

"It's fine."

"That good, huh? All still in one piece though, right?"

There was a long pause on the phone. Hughes sighed heavily.

"What could have possibly happened?"

"Nothing. His automail is… malfunctioning."

"Seriously? It was fine this morning."

"It's hard to explain."

"You don't want to talk about it in front of him." Hughes sighed again. "Did you both eat the muffins I left?"

"… Yes."

"Great! That's something then. Look I have to go, but I will come around after work. See you later."

After a mumbled farewell Roy put the receiver back in its place. Ed was staring curiously at him from over the couch cushions.

"Are you hungry?" Mustang asked doubtfully.

"Not at all."

"Hughes thinks we ate all the muffins."

"Because you told him we did." Ed furrowed his brow.

"I'm going to have to get rid of them. If Hughes sees them he's likely to start lecturing us both."

"Just throw them away," Ed suggested.

"He'll see them in the trash. Maybe I can convince Havoc to take them."

Edward shrugged and turned his attention to his automail leg. He clapped his hands and there was a flash of light as he transmuted the casing back to the way it looked before. Roy was watching him closely. Ed shifted and swung his legs off of the cushions. He only hesitated for the briefest moment before pushing himself off the couch and into a standing position. Ed wavered for a second and Roy was at his elbow in an instant.

"It's fine." Ed quickly stated, waving away the Colonel's outstretched hand. Ed took a step and then another, lifting up his automail knee higher than he would usually have to. He tentatively put weight on it. The limb seemed to hold him and Ed took another painstakingly slow step. "It's fine," Ed repeated.

"You're sure? It wasn't fine earlier."

"I have to put weight on it evenly. I can't twist the foot or ankle. I just have to keep it straight. It's fine."

Ed turned away from the Colonel and began slowly walking toward the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Roy asked.

"Bed."

"You can stay down here, Ed. I told you that it's fine."

"I don't want to be that close to the front door."

Now Roy was really confused. "What?"

Ed took one step up the stairs. "You really don't get it." Ed took another step. "You shouldn't have to watch me all the time." Another step.

Ed kept his eyes cast down as he ascended slowly.

"Edward…what do you mean?" Roy took a few steps to follow him after him.

"Nevermind. Leave me alone. Just go smoke or do whatever you need to do."

"Edward…"

"I said just leave me alone!" Ed snapped as he made it to the top of the stairs and nearly stumbled. He reached the door to the bedroom and slammed it behind him. Roy caught sight of Havoc in the kitchen. And Mustang felt like this was too much. He had been trying. And he thought he had been doing fine. Roy's head throbbed then and he was reminded how awful he was feeling. His head ached, his stomach was in knots and he was feeling a constriction in his chest. Something inside seemed to break and, before he realized it, his feet were carrying him out his front door.

Roy was nearly running as he cleared the steps leading to his porch. He took a right down the sidewalk and began walking purposefully down the street. He hadn't made it very far when he came back to himself all at once. He came to an abrupt halt when he realized he was headed in the direction of the closest bar. He hadn't been thinking, his feet had just moved automatically, because if there was one thing he needed right now, it was a drink. Maybe more than one. Roy turned and looked back at his home. He was only a few houses away, but it suddenly looked so small. His head was pounding. He just needed to get away for a while. He walked a few more paces, shoes sounding loudly against the sidewalk... No. He couldn't act this way. He was being selfish. Again.

What would Hughes do? Roy kicked at the neighbor's fence. He wasn't Hughes. He couldn't be Hughes…. But he couldn't leave either. He felt terrible and he was trying so hard to be patient. He turned the other way, facing toward home again. He began walking, picking up speed. He walked briskly past his house, and then he was jogging and then he was running. He ran around the block once, twice, three times. On the fourth time, he saw that Havoc was standing on his porch, watching him. He continued running and each time he went past his house, Havoc was there, watching. He hated this. He hated being helpless and he hated failing. Even when he tried, he was failing miserably. Roy ran until he couldn't think anymore. He ran until he couldn't feel the pain and as his lungs struggled to take in more oxygen, he welcomed the burning sensation. Anything was better than the pain he was feeling before.

Roy finally came to a stop after about the tenth lap and doubled over with his hands on his knees. He gasped for breath as he watched the sweat from his forehead splatter the sidewalk.

"You should drink some water, Boss." Jean finally said. Roy actually laughed. And maybe he sounded a bit hysterical, because Havoc was looking at him with some concern.

Once he caught his breath, Mustang stumbled towards his porch. He took an offered glass of water and headed inside.

"Ed was asking about you."

"Was he?" Roy took several long gulps of water.

"He heard the front door slam. He thought you might not come back."

"He told you that?"

"When I checked on him, yeah."

"I'm not going to leave him." As Roy said it, he felt the weight of that statement. It settled on his shoulders as a heavy promise. Leaving wasn't an option. It never had been. Roy was surprised to find the weight of that promise was a burden he was more than willing to bear.

Roy showered again and then he felt a deep weariness that made him want to fall asleep on his couch for the rest of the day. However, he needed to check on Ed first.

"Edward, can I come in?" Roy knocked on the door and opened it to find the boy sitting on the bed cross legged. He was sniffling, and wiping at watery eyes, and looking embarrassed of all things.

"Not crying," Ed quickly corrected thoughts that the Colonel might have. "Watering eyes are just a part of it… which is stupid." He sounded like he had been crying though.

"Right."

"You came back," Ed tried for conversation.

"Yes."

"Havoc said you were running around in circles outside."

"He's not wrong."

"Oh," Ed stated simply. Roy moved toward the bed and Ed shuffled over, not in fear, but giving Mustang space to sit on the edge if he wanted to. Mustang sat down and took a moment to study his hands.

"Edward… I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? I'm the one acting irrational and causing problems."

"No, just listen. I'm sorry for before. For not helping you before. After you gave me your report on the Pace Incident I should have followed up. I should have checked on you. I should have made you talk to someone about it. If I had done my part, we wouldn't be here right now."

"It didn't have anything to do with that."

"If you have to tell yourself that Edward, fine. But the fact is that I know you have been in pain before. Automail hurts. I know that. You always were able to push through it. Suddenly, you can't deal with the pain anymore, that's not you. You've always gotten through anything. So the way I see it, you needed help and you didn't want to talk to anyone, so you turned to something because you were desperate. And that's my fault. I should have been there when you needed me. I was so wrapped up in thinking I had failed, that I didn't even realize that I was failing you still. So I am sorry. All I can ask is that you let me help now. It's not going to be perfect and I don't have the instinct for it, but I want to protect those around me from anything that might cause them harm. That includes you and that includes this situation now. Do you understand?"

Ed gave a slow nod and took in a breath as he struggled to respond.

"I want… I wanted," Ed swallowed. "I needed…" He took a very deep breath. "I almost took off. That's why I called for you before. I was going to leave. I was going to…"

"You're craving, Edward. That's a part of it too."

Edward's eyes filled up with real tears then. "I'm so weak. I'm so…weak. And I'm ashamed and angry. I'm so angry. I'm so angry at myself. I hate it."

"Breathe, Ed. Just breathe." Please don't work yourself into a panic attack. "Look, everything will be all right. It doesn't matter what you do or say, I'm not going to leave. So you can be honest with me, you're not going to scare me or upset me enough to make me abandon you. I promise you that."

Edward nodded. And just like that, Edward's exterior fell apart. He felt everything that he had been pushing away for the last few months come down on him all at once; the nightmares, the sneaking around, the lying, the pain that never went away, the fear, the anger and the loneliness that would have gone away if he had just asked for help. He was so scared all the time and he didn't always know why. It didn't make sense. Stupid, ridiculous, ordinary things set him on edge. Who has a fear of sitting in chairs anyway? Now Ed was really crying, because as it all descended upon him, the answer also became clear. He had been taken, gagged, tied, tortured and nearly killed. Then he had murdered that man, and nobody blamed him for it, but it didn't change the fact that he had killed someone and he hadn't wanted to. A part of him was broken and he couldn't get up and walk away from it because he had been too damaged. Even after he was dead, Pace still haunted him and Edward was so afraid that he had done something drastic. Because taking the morphine was the better option than facing all of that swirling incomprehensible darkness that was inside of him.

"I hate the scars," Ed blurted between sobs. "I hate them. Why did he have to do that? Why? I'm going to be marked forever. Every time I see them, I can't breathe or even think. I hate them."

"They will fade. They just need time."

"But they'll never go away."

"Probably not completely, no."

"I hate this. I hate this. I hate this." Ed collapsed forward, burying his face into the comforter. Gently, very gently, Roy placed a hand on his back and he watched as his palm moved up and down as Edward heaved great sobs.

"It will be all right. It will get better."

"How? How do you know that? How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you have the ability to get through anything, Edward. I know that. Just breathe. Keep breathing. It will be all right."

I promise.

~'~'~

Thank you, Colonel. I know you will take care of brother for me.

~'~'~

Edward wasn't thinking. Too distracted by the feeling of his skin prickling and every single nerve twitching in agitation. He was supposed to be checking in on a lead for the Philosopher's Stone. There had been talk of some dangerous alchemist trying to create a new substance. The rumors were greatly exaggerated. The alchemist was nothing more than a swindler and his creations consisted primarily of phony jewels and gold. How dull. A waste of time and a mission.

Ed had left Al outside the old supply building to be a lookout, deciding to do some snooping around on his own. After all, Ed was less noticeable because he was sma-… because Al was so large. So it made sense for him to slip inside alone.

But as he hid behind a box of fake jewels on the second floor, he found it difficult to concentrate. Well, it was because this mission was stupid. But it was also too warm in this room… too dark. The darkness pressed in around him and he was finding it difficult to breathe in his hunched position. Breathing… breathing was difficult. His chest hurt again. So encompassed was he in his need for oxygen that he didn't notice how loud he was being… sucking in air and blowing it out noisily. He didn't realize his situation, until he looked up and saw great blue eyes staring at him from the dark.

Edward didn't think. He reacted. In that moment of complete and utter panic, Ed transmuted the floor out from under himself. With no further thought into the transmutation, he fell through the second floor. Landing mainly on his automail leg, crushing a supply crate, his leg gave a great jolt and he knew he would have broken it, if it had been his flesh leg. As it was, he thought he might have broken his hip for a moment. His mind registered pain and blood. Blood trailing down his arm, down the side of his face, collecting in his mouth, suffocating him. He ran for the exit. He ran and ran until a metal gauntlet grabbed him from behind. And he screamed then, but it was just Al and nothing to be afraid of.

Al had been worried and scared that his brother wasn't responding to him… again. He had chased after him, calling for him, but Edward didn't respond. Then when he finally had caught up to Ed, he began screaming and Al was really, truly frightened.

"Brother! What happened?"

Ed threw a hand over his mouth and choked on his intake of breath. There was no blood, it was all a trick that his warped mind had eagerly played on him. He was being stupid. It had just been the swindler that had found him in his hiding place and Ed should have been able to handle him.

But those eyes… piercing and familiar because Edward still saw them in his dreams. This was the first time he had seen them while he was awake and it was just too much.

"Nothing." Ed forced out. He felt like he was going to throw up. "Just got caught. We should go."

"Shouldn't we take care of it or tell someone. He's a fraud, isn't he?"

"It doesn't matter. It's not the Philosopher's Stone and it's going to be more trouble than it's worth." It wasn't a lie, but Ed didn't usually walk away from a fight, not when people were being used and taken advantage of. "Let's just go back. Go get our stuff from the hotel. I will get us tickets for the late train."

"But Ed…"

"Just go get the suitcase. We're going to miss the train."

Al finally conceded. He felt like he was doing that a lot with Ed lately. Feeling like he couldn't push Edward anymore, something in his brother had become fragile and Alphonse always worried about it shattering.

Edward walked to the train station alone, his finger tracing the loose tablets in his pocket. It would be better to take them with some water, but he could dry swallow them. He would purchase the tickets first and then, hopefully, he could find some relief. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, his automail felt heavier. It was taking a lot of effort to take simple steps. Perhaps, something really had snapped… that would be just perfect. He glanced down at his legs to see a rip in the fabric below his flesh knee. Perhaps some of the blood he had seen hadn't been only in his head after all. There was pain there, but he found it easy to push to the side as he felt his hip throb and his chest ache deeply. He continued toward the station, trying not to limp. Once he got on the train he would be able to rest and maybe sleep. The pills he had transmuted always let him sleep for a little while at least and the pain would go away again.

Maybe someday he could get it all to stop hurting.

Roy sat with his hand resting on Edward's back long after he had finished sobbing. Ed's breathing remained shaky and Roy felt the boy shudder, cough and then continue breathing. He would be lying if he said he knew what to do now. The Colonel had meant it, when he said it would be all right. But he didn't know how to help Edward get to that point. It was going to be a process. A long, arduous process. Time passed and Mustang felt he should have said something more useful by now. He was, thankfully, saved from his inadequacy by a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Roy felt his voice catch; his throat had gone dry in the past few minutes.

Havoc peered into the room somewhat sheepishly. He took in the scene before him, but didn't comment on it.

"The stew is ready," he said instead. "If you wanted to try it…"

"Do you think you can try, Ed?" Mustang lifted his hand from Edward's back and Ed slowly rolled onto his side.

"You first," the boy mumbled. Always stubborn. Roy clenched his jaw, but stopped when he felt that twinge of pain that he was beginning to become accustomed to.

"Fine. I'll get some for both of us." Despite his words, the Colonel sat still for a moment, watching Edward's even breathing. He abruptly turned to Havoc. "Stay with him," he commanded.

With a small, shuddering gasp, Edward found his voice.

"He doesn't need to stay with me."

"I think somebody should." Mustang didn't leave any room for argument this time. After all, Edward had just admitted to wanting to leave the house.

Ed frowned and began to curl in on himself, preparing to sulk. He didn't like it. He didn't like having to be watched. It was humiliating. He was already beginning to regret breaking down in front of the Colonel. But he trusted the Colonel. Right? That's why he had started to tell him what had been going on in his mind. He had trusted Mustang when he couldn't take it anymore because he felt like he was hurtling towards some overwhelming darkness. Once he had started to break, he realized that there might not be an end to the emotions he was facing. There was fear and uncertainty and shame. He wasn't a stranger to feeling ashamed of his mistakes, but it seemed to have grown. It filled him up and overflowed over everything. It was a constant feeling underneath all the others. He was ashamed of himself for this whole mess. He didn't really understand what the Colonel was talking about before. This wasn't Mustang's fault. It was all Edward's.

Hughes had told him that things weren't his fault… and that was true. Edward realized that now. He wasn't responsible for the death of any of those children.

And yet.

What was it then? This horrible feeling of guilt he felt when he saw the marks over his heart? That twisting sensation he had in his nightmares when he saw her face in pain as Warren Pace killed her over and over. Why could he never save her? Not even in his dreams. He could never save her. He hadn't even been able to protect himself in the end… not really, he had nearly been killed that day.

You will be together soon.

Piercing blue eyes in the dim light. A glint of a knife. The sound of his hair being cut away. And then so much red. Dripping down his arm, getting in his eyes, sliding down his throat…

My little golden boy that ran away.

Ed gasped and was up from the bed like a shot. In his panic, his leg twisted and it gave out from under him. He stumbled forward and hit the corner of the dresser with a loud thump before collapsing near the wall.

Havoc was there. Kneeling in front of him, asking him what had happened. And then Colonel was there too, having left the room, but returned immediately when he heard the sudden commotion. Ed's shoulder, from where he had collided with the dresser, throbbed painfully and he winced as he brought Havoc's face into focus. That happened sometimes, fresh pain would usually bring him back to the present. It kept him grounded.

But as he became more lucid, Havoc and Mustang were both looking worried as Jean explained that Ed had startled him by jumping up out of nowhere. Ed didn't hear the rest of the explanation as he lurched as a wave of nausea overtook him. Jean grabbed his shoulder and turned him onto his side, but Edward's retching brought up nothing. He had nothing left.

"Sorry." It was the first thing Ed could think of to say once the nausea had passed.

"Sorry?" Roy questioned. Could he really not leave Edward alone for a few minutes without something terrible happening? "What were you trying to do?"

Ed shook his head and cast his eyes away.

"Don't know," he muttered. Roy exhaled through his nose. His own irritation wasn't going to help this situation.

"Are you hurt?" Mustang finally asked after a long pause. Edward shook his head.

"What was he doing? What set him off?" Roy directed this question at Havoc instead.

"He wasn't doing much of anything. He just went kind of still and I didn't think there was a problem until he wouldn't answer me. He jumped up so fast, he really surprised me."

"It was just a bad dream." Ed finally said.

"You were awake there, Chief."

"That… happens."

"How often does that happen to you, Edward?" Mustang asked, sounding incredibly serious. The Colonel had told Edward that he couldn't scare him enough to make him leave… but Hughes had told Edward a long time ago that the boy scared the shit out of Mustang sometimes. Roy wasn't going to like the answer and, yes, it might scare him to know it.

"Don't lie." Mustang said quietly.

"A lot," Ed finally said in a hushed voice. "It feels like a lot anyway. Way more in the past few days than before... but not if I keep busy. If I can think about something else or if I'm talking to someone about anything else…or if I feel a new pain… I can usually… stay."

"A new pain… Right." Roy straightened up. "Right." He repeated.

"Colonel?" Havoc asked curiously.

"Can you stand, Edward?" Roy asked. Ed nodded, and he leaned heavily on the dresser as he heaved himself up. His automail leg buckled and Mustang grabbed his elbows to keep him upright. There was a moment of unsure silence while Roy made sure Ed wasn't going to tip over. "Still with me, Ed?" He asked uncertainly. Mustang had grabbed Ed before he had time to gauge whether Edward was calm enough to stand being touched.

"I'm fine," Edward grumbled and Mustang was actually pleased that he sounded characteristically annoyed.

"Can you make it to the bed?"

Ed looked irritated, but he peered around Mustang and considered the distance.

"Yeah, you can let go."

Roy released his young charge and watched him closely as he carefully travelled the few feet towards the middle of the room. The Colonel kept one arm extended, tracking Edward's movements, prepared to grab his arm if the boy looked like he might fall again. When Ed had almost reached his goal, the Colonel looked up to see that Havoc was following Edward just as closely, the concern on his subordinate's face was prominent.

Havoc needs a pay increase, Roy thought absently.

"I'm going back downstairs, when I come back, you're going to drink some water, you're going to try-just try some of the stew and then we are going to come up with a new plan."

"A new plan for what?" Ed asked as he sat down heavily on the mattress.

"For you. Because a 'new pain' isn't going to cut it anymore."

"It's not that bad…" Ed lifted his automail leg off the floor, seemingly studying its soundness. He let the limb drop back on the floor with a thud.

"Slamming your head into a desk, into the floor, into my dresser? That is dangerous. I'm not going to let you keep hurting yourself."

"It's not…. I don't plan it. It just happens and I didn't hit my head on your dresser. It was my shoulder and it wasn't on purpose." Edward shook his head and clenched his fists at his sides.

"We are going to come up with a new plan."

Edward took a long, deep breath.

Trust the Colonel. He doesn't understand.

"Fine," Ed muttered.

You have to try. It's not going to make a difference anyway.

Edward did, in fact, drink half of his glass of water, but he eyed the bowl of stew wearily.

"It's still too hot, I'll drink it in a minute." He said when both Havoc and Mustang were giving him expectant looks.

"I'm thirsty. I'll drink some of the water first." Ed took a long sip from his glass.

"I swear, I'll try it right now." Ed mumbled as he fussed with a loose thread on the comforter, suddenly fascinated at the stitching that was becoming a bit unraveled. Roy's eyes narrowed as he realized that Edward was desperately stalling. You manipulative little-

"I've got to get back to work before the day is completely over, Chief. Think you can you taste it before I leave? Let me know how I did?"

Guilt hit Ed then. Right. Havoc had taken an extra, extra long lunch to come here and make this and now he was just wasting his time. Ed quickly picked up the bowl from the bedside table and dunked the spoon into the broth. He hesitated slightly, eyeing the spoonful before forcing it into his mouth. He swallowed without tasting it, hoping it wouldn't upset his already questionable stomach. He felt the smallest lurch in his gut, but then nothing happened.

"It's good." Ed forced a smile for Havoc's sake and the Second Lieutenant smiled back gently.

"Glad you like it."

After Havoc left, the silence continued on. Ed leaned against the headboard, bowl of cooling stew in his hands. The liquid sloshed around as Edward tilted the bowl back and forth, studying it without eating it. The Colonel had brought a chair over and he sat staring into his own empty bowl. Now that they were alone again, Roy was starting to feel a little bit lost. Edward had opened up to him, but in just under an hour, it felt as though Ed had built up his wall again. Which was irritating because they couldn't both just be building up walls; they would never get anywhere.

"Edward." Roy was the adult. He had to start the conversation because Ed sure as hell wasn't going to. Ed blinked and went still.

"We're going to come up with a plan."

"Fine," Ed sat his bowl down on the bedside table and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Well… I need you to help. You know better what is going on in your head than I do."

Ed blinked and then let out a hollow sounding bark of laughter. He glanced at Roy and then back at the ceiling.

"Sorry," Ed quickly apologized when he saw the look of bewilderment on the Colonel's face. "I just don't think I understand it myself."

"Fine. How about this? I will just ask you some questions and you answer me honestly."

"Fine," Edward said after a moment. Though he wasn't so sure about the 'honestly' part.

Roy had several false starts to his next sentence. It was like a part of him was rebelling against actually having this conversation. He didn't want to have to talk about this. Of course he would rather none of this be happening at all. Hell, if he could have it his way, Ed would never have been kidnapped in the first place… but he had been and they were here now and Roy needed to make some sort of plan.

"You said you hurt yourself because pain keeps you in the present."

Ed nodded, but continued to avoid eye contact.

"How often do you have to do that?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I don't know. I never thought about it, alright? Not until you told me not to hit my head against the floor last night."

"You never thought about it. But was it a problem before you started taking the morphine? When you were on leave and staying in Risembool?"

"No," Ed replied dully. He yanked hard on the loose thread then, ripping it from the blanket with a snap.

"No? When did it start then?"

"I don't know. I don't remember."

"You don't remember. Did you hurt yourself while you were taking the morphine?"

Ed scrunched up his nose. "If that happened while I was taking the morphine, I probably wouldn't have been taking it in the first place."

"You hit your head against my desk after you had taken some the other day."

"Because I didn't take enough."

"You didn't take enough." Roy's words had an edge of disbelief to them.

"Stop repeating me, damn it." Now Edward was pissed off. Colonel Bastard was being irritating on purpose and Ed felt himself snapping. "You're not helping. This isn't helping. What do you want to know? What do you really want me to say? You want me to come up with a plan? I don't have a plan. I only have what I've been doing already and now you're saying I can't do that, so you come up with something because I don't know what I'm doing." Edward slapped his hand down on the mattress, but the display wasn't as intimidating as he would have liked it to be.

"I don't know what I'm doing." Ed repeated breathlessly. That pent up frustration had gotten away from him now and he suddenly just felt very tired and slightly embarrassed with his own mood swings. "Sorry, ask me whatever, but don't repeat me. I already know I sound stupid without you parroting it back at me."

Roy had leaned back in his chair, giving Ed more space for his outburst. He cleared his throat. He needed to try a different approach.

"Tell me, what does Maes do that keeps you in the present? I've seen him bring you back from the edge of panic; in my office the other day and in that little town when you had to tell Samuel Barringer about his brother."

"You were there." Ed said with a shrug.

"Yes, but it doesn't seem to work when I talk to you."

"No, that does work." Ed shut his eyes and slouched down amongst the pillows.

"Does it? You don't seem to calm down very quickly."

Edward thought for a moment and then suddenly laughed quietly.

"What?" Roy asked, confused why this would seem funny. Nothing about this was humorous.

"I hadn't thought about it before until now. Just keep talking to me, Colonel. It does work, I swear. I don't think Hughes' strategy will work for us. He usually ends up hugging me."

"Oh." Roy said as he stopped himself from echoing Fullmetal's words. "Well… you always seem too upset if I get too close… so, I mean… I feel like that would make it worse."

Edward shrugged. "I guess there are times when being that close to anyone bothers me, but as soon as I realize it's him, it's easier to stop freaking out I guess. Everything comes back into focus."

Roy shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"But would it help? If it helps…"

"Don't! It's too weird. Hughes just seems to know without having to talk about it. "

"Well, I'm not Maes…"

"Look…sorry. You don't need to do that, alright? Talk to me and stay close, that's it. I will do my best not to punch you in the face again."

"Fine." Roy leaned forward in his chair. He had made a list in his mind of points that he wanted to discuss with Edward, but as he sat there, he felt a weariness settle in the very marrow of his bones. He wanted to be finished with this conversation as much as Edward did. "Anything else?"

"Anything else what?" Ed looked at Roy with genuine confusion.

"Is there anything else that you need to tell me?"

There was a long, pregnant pause and Edward glanced quickly away. He had enough massive breakdowns for one day and he was feeling depleted. There were probably a millions things he could tell the Colonel, but none if it would be beneficial. It was all just dark and nonsense. And now that he wasn't worked up, he felt self-conscious. He just wanted to get through some of this with a shred of dignity still intact.

"Nothing I can think of."

Liar.

"Maes, what is this?"

"Pajamas."

"Why?"

"I was picking up a few things and I thought you could benefit from them."

"They are very red."

"Only the bottoms. The shirt is black. I wanted to get some flames embroidered on them, I figured you would appreciate that, but there wasn't enough time. I bought Edward a matching set."

"You're joking."

"Of course, I'm joking. Ed's are pale blue with some stripes."

Roy was staring hard at the bright red material; he would not be wearing this.

It had been a few hours since Roy had left Edward alone to sleep. The Colonel had busied himself by washing dishes, making coffee and hiding the rest of the uneaten muffins in a cupboard. Hughes had finally arrived carrying several packages and bags, all full of things to help Edward get through the rest of the week. There were things to help alleviate his symptoms, such as ginger for tea and gentle pain killers. Hughes said that the pain killers weren't anywhere near as strong as anything Ed had taken lately, but they should help with the muscle pains.

"I stopped by a couple of places today. I spoke to a few doctors about… the current situation. I didn't tell them anything specific, but I was able to gather some more research and information. There really isn't much on this sort of thing though. People who actually get treated for addictions, they get shut away in sober houses or some mental asylum if they are considered a danger to others. A lot of the soldiers who come back from fighting do take morphine and they just live their lives taking it, Roy. As long as they are performing their duties, nobody is going to say anything about it. And if they can't perform their duties, then they are discharged and nobody really cares what happens to them after that."

"That's why I'm trying to handle this as quietly as possible. He's not able to perform his duties now." Roy shifted through several printed pamphlets that were spread across his kitchen table. "These doctors you spoke to, you can trust them?"

"I've been discreet. I went to a few different places and sought out the best. They want to help. Opium is not actually illegal and neither is morphine, but the adverse effects of it are obvious. Some doctors have been researching it and other addictions in our population. Everyone I spoke to knows the importance of confidentiality."

Roy picked up a thin book and flipped it open to the title page.

"The Treatment of War Neuroses. Hughes… Really?"

"Some of the information applies. Do you think it seems too far-reaching?"

"I think it seems familiar." Mustang sat the book back down, scowling in distaste.

"If you read that before, it wasn't because of me."

Roy picked up single sheet of paper and held it aloft, giving Hughes a glare. Bold print declared: Alcoholism as a Disease,at the top of the page.

"I wasn't always very specific, so they gave me a variety… I've never made you read anything, Roy."

Roy made a wide gesture to the table. "What do you call all of this, then?"

"Research. To help Ed. Not everything is about you, you egotistical pyromaniac."

Roy smirked and let the paper fall back onto the cluttered pile. "I suppose we would need another table and a few more trips to various professionals if we were going to go down that particular road."

Hughes smiled sadly. "Ed's table is full enough…"

"Did you happen to find anything, while you were harassing various medical personnel, did you find anything about… survivor's syndrome?"

"No." Maes eyes went dark.

"You know it though." Roy stated, noticing his friend's change in attitude.

"Yes, I know what it is. But that actual term is relatively new. I'm surprised you know it."

"I try to stay informed."

"It might be mentioned in one of these, but it's not going to be the main focus. Damn." Hughes' swear was tacked onto his sentence suddenly and Mustang was startled by it. "I am an idiot. How did I not think of that? Not just traumatized, but survivor's syndrome. Of course, he has that. Though I guess he's had it since he was a kid and now it's just… well, worse."

"Does having a specific term for it really change anything?"

"It explains the nightmares he has. About dying and the Adalbert girl dying. He feels guilty about surviving the kidnapping. Like he's done something wrong by living through it."

"As I said, it seems familiar." Roy said with a shrug. Roy shuffled the papers around, not allowing anything particular to catch his eye. He just needed to be able to do something with his hands.

"How are you doing, Roy?" Hughes broke the sudden silence between them. "You look tired."

"Did Havoc call you?" Mustang stopped his needless paper arranging.

"Yes."

"Then you already know." Roy turned and glanced at the ginger on his counter. He should make a tea for Edward. It would help to settle the boy's nausea.

"Roy, please." Maes was interrupting his quiet thoughts again. "Your hands are shaking."

At that moment, they heard footsteps trudging down the stairs and Mustang turned and swept all of the research into one haphazard pile.

"Not now," Roy hissed and then, looking for an abrupt subject change, he opened the closest cupboard.

"Really? You two didn't eat the muffins." The basket was clearly visible inside the cupboard, but Roy had decided it was the lesser of two evils in this case. "You lied to me about eating them," Hughes continued, sounding mildly offended.

"I told him to throw them away. It was a stupid thing to lie about." Edward's voice sounded from the doorway.

"Were you able to sleep long?" Mustang asked.

Edward shook his head and leaned against the doorframe. "Insomnia." Edward muttered in explanation and he wrinkled his nose up at the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"How are you feeling, Ed?" Maes asked, looking the boy over in concern. Edward looked pale, sweat was causing his bangs to stick to his forehead and was dampening the collar of his shirt. Ed sniffed loudly and gave a shrug.

"What time is it?"

"It's nearly eight o'clock," the Colonel replied quickly. He had kept an eye on the clock, watching the time pass as he counted the hours away.

"32 hours." Ed stated quietly. Roy wasn't the only one keeping track. "It's only been 32 hours." The realization made Edward frown deeply.

"Hughes brought you new pajamas," Roy changed the subject. "You should try them on. See if he needs to get a smaller size."

Edward threw both his arms in the air, "I'm not small!" However, he had forgotten that he had been purposefully leaning against the doorframe and he swayed dangerously as he began to lose his balance. Hughes was out of his chair so fast that it toppled backwards onto the floor. "I'm alright," Ed managed to say as soon as Maes grabbed his arm to steady him.

"Have you been drinking water? You're probably dehydrated." Hughes was at Edward's eye level now, scrutinizing him more closely.

"I'm fine." Ed shrugged off Hughes' hand. He didn't want help. Also, everything seemed too close. Like the walls themselves were shrinking, closing in on him.

"Of course you are." Hughes said appeasingly. "Go back upstairs and I will bring you some water and you can change out of this shirt."

"Is there puke on it?" Ed looked down at himself in confusion.

"No, you may not have noticed, but you're sweating a lot and it's soaked through. You look… uncomfortable."

"There's no point, it's just going to happen again and again for at least 40 more hours. I'm not even half way done with the worst part-"

Edward suddenly stopped talking in the middle of his rant.

"Are you going to be sick?" Hughes asked. Ed shook his head, but he wouldn't open his mouth again. "Why don't you go back upstairs and lay down? I'll be up in a minute with some water, all right?"

Strangely compliant, Ed nodded and headed up the stairs again. Maes watched him for a moment, before turning back to Roy.

"Has he been drinking and eating?"

"Some. He did throw up though. He was able to keep some stew down, but that was hours ago now."

Maes nodded in understanding.

"Go sit down, Roy. I can keep an eye on him for a while."

Mustang considered protesting, but then he felt that weariness creeping up his spine again. It had been a very long day, maybe he could try to relax for a few minutes. Maybe.

"I've got it covered," Hughes smiled brightly and Roy wondered how he could still smile like that, even after all this time.

"Fine." Mustang said as he moved to his living room. He could just shut his eyes for a few minutes…

Edward was feeling pretty lousy and when Hughes started to help him into the new, fresh shirt, he didn't think much of it. He shut his eyes and didn't look at the scars and tried not to notice when Hughes tried not to look at them either.

"Can you manage?" Maes had asked in reference to the new pajama bottoms. Edward was pretty sure he had nodded, but then he got caught up and he put too much weight on his automail and the damn thing betrayed him again as it started to give way. Hughes didn't say anything when he caught him by the arm to keep him from falling. He held on as Ed finished stepping out of his sweat soaked trousers and began to stumble into the new softer material.

"Wait," And Hughes wasn't trying to embarrass Ed or hurt his pride by prolonging this process, but… "What did you do to your leg?"

Edward glanced down at his flesh leg. Oh. With how awful he was feeling, he had forgotten that he was still keeping that particular secret from them. Just below his knee, he had a makeshift bandage wrapped around his shin. The dressing had slipped and the edge of an angry cut was now visible.

"I fell."

"You fell?"

"Through the second floor."

"What?"

The bandage was old and still damp from Edward's shower earlier. Once Hughes had uncovered the wound, he inspected it closely. The two inch cut was red and swollen around the edges. It looked like it could have used a few stitches, but it had begun to heal on its own and there would be no stitching it up now.

There were many things that Maes wanted to say, as he sat there on the bed with Ed's leg propped up on his knee. He wanted to berate Edward for not going into the doctor's to get this checked out sooner. He wanted to lecture him about infections and didn't he know how to take care of himself? However, as Edward quietly explained about screwing up his latest mission and transmuting the floor out from under himself, Hughes didn't have the heart to scold the boy. The cut looked clean. At least Edward had had the presence of mind to keep it from getting dirty.

"With no stitches, it's going to be quite a scar," Hughes found himself saying.

"I don't see how it can be any worse than the others." Edward mumbled. Hughes exhaled through his nose slowly. He quickly finished bandaging Edward's leg with a clean dressing from the small first aid kit. He then gently moved the boy's foot back onto the mattress. Edward rolled down the material of his new pajama bottoms, hiding the cut from view once again.

"You have to let me or the Colonel know if it starts to hurt or look infected."

Edward nodded and leaned back into the pillows.

"Please, Ed."

"I will. It didn't even hurt that bad when it happened. It's not a big deal."

"Right." Hughes sighed. "Drink some of your water. I'm going to go check on the Colonel."

"You're going to tell him about it?"

"Yes, he already knows something is up; he saw me get the first aid kit."

"It's not worth… it's not worth making him run around in circles again."

"I'll make sure he stays inside." Hughes gave a tired looking smile and Edward's mouth twitched upwards for a moment to match it.

When Hughes left late that evening, he wasn't even attempting to hide the concern on his face. When Maes had informed him about Edward's leg, Roy had only pinched the bridge of his nose and said nothing. The Colonel was looking worn and he was beginning to take on that unhealthy look he always got when he was having a rough time.

"I have work tomorrow, but I will stop by again in the morning," Maes said for the tenth time. "You can call me if you need to."

"Yes, I know."

Hughes took another step toward the door, before turning around to face Roy again. "You're sure you don't need me to stay? I can use a sick day tomorrow."

"Edward will be fine."

"And you? You'll be fine too?"

"Yes." Roy said after a beat. It may have been unfair to Ed, but Hughes hoped the boy would recover quickly and then he could focus more on his friend's wellbeing.

"I'll be back in the morning."

Roy sighed, but nodded. "You worry too much, we'll be fine."

It was dark, but Edward could feel the gag in his mouth. Then there was a pair of now familiar hands wrapping around his neck and choking him. He writhed and struggled, but he couldn't get away no matter how hard he tried. Beyond the sound of his own gasps for breath, he could hear the sounds of screaming and crying all around him. If he could just move his arms, he could transmute. He could escape.

There was an extreme warmth that engulfed his legs and when he looked down he found that the darkness had dissipated to reveal a pool of blood that had risen up from the ground and was lapping around his knees. From the blood faces appeared, bobbing up expectantly with gaping mouths and gouged out eyes. They were all children and they were screaming, crying, wailing, choking and dying in the blood that rose up and up. It was at his chest now, splashing his face. Edward struggled harder, but the hands were still there and they suddenly pulled him down under the surface. He was drowning now, inhaling blood through his nose and tasting it as it slipped past the gag and down his throat. He couldn't see anything anymore, just red and heat seeping into his eyes. And then their faces appeared before him again. Those children he had never actually met, though he had seen their pictures and in his dreams now over and over again. There was the Adalbert girl, dead as she always was. Then there were so many more. All swirling around him with butchered faces and lifeless forms. The movement stopped suddenly and Edward found himself peering into a familiar face. The empty eye sockets of Kaleb Barringer stared at him, the lips cracked open and the corpse grinned wildly at him.

Edward began screaming.

Ed sat upright out of bed, his scream dying on his lips as he quickly realized where he was. Mustang stood at his bedside, calling his name. Ed swallowed back the intense nausea he was feeling and coughed out an apology. He wiped at his face, realizing he was covered in a layer of sweat. He was surprised, a moment ago he had been too hot, but now he felt a cold chill settle over him.

"You're all right," the Colonel was saying. Edward felt a sudden surge of annoyance at the words. He didn't feel all right. He couldn't even remember the last time he felt all right.

"Just keep breathing." Roy reminded him as he sat down in the chair by the bedside. Edward took several deep breaths, but his heart was still hammering away erratically in his chest. He hated this. He hated this so much. A sense of urgency grabbed hold of him then and he felt the overwhelming need to do something. He needed to stop the nightmares. There had to be something he could do to fix it. There had to be…

"I want to go back." The words were out of Edward's mouth before he had given them any thought.

"Back where?" Mustang tilted his head in confusion and Ed realized he must have interrupted him without realizing it.

"Back to the woods." The idea was still forming, and Ed still found he was breathless from his nightmare, but as Edward gave it more thought… yes, this is what he needed to do.

"What are you talking about?"

"Where Warren Pace… died." Ed couldn't bring himself to describe it in any other way.

"Why would you want to go back there?" Roy had come close to burning that vile place to the ground. He was now wishing he had just torched it.

"I just thought… It's just an old shack."

"Right," Mustang crossed his arms. This conversation gave him an uneasy feeling in his gut.

"So, I should be able to go there. It's just an abandoned shack in the woods." Ed finished his words in a rush and then glanced at the Colonel expectantly, waiting to see what he thought of this idea. Roy felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He tried to force his expression to be neutral, but his mind was startled and his thoughts were shouting 'danger!' at him. He had no intention of ever going near that place again and he would make damn sure that Edward never set foot there.

"I think it's a bad idea," Mustang said slowly. Ed frowned. This was the best plan he had and now the Colonel was shooting it down without even giving it a thought! Edward's anger at his situation turned and focused suddenly on his superior officer.

"Well, I wasn't asking for your permission." Ed spat. Roy's expression darkened considerably. The Colonel hadn't been able to sleep yet, instead he had been up, waiting, thinking Edward might need him. Now it was late and Roy felt the lack of sleep wearing on his nerves.

"Of course not. You don't usually ask for my permission before you do anything. You didn't ask permission the first time you ended up there. Why start asking now?"

Edward glared, but kept his mouth shut, realizing the Colonel was in a bad temper, he wasn't sure if he wanted to start a fight right now. Feeling irritable, Ed crossed his arms and sulked instead. A few tense minutes passed and the only sound was their breathing and the creak of the chair as Mustang shifted his weight.

"Can I go outside?" Ed asked suddenly. That sense of urgency hadn't left and Edward was feeling the need to do something.

"No, it's two in the morning." Roy answered sharply. It's only been 38 hours…

"Just out on your porch. I'm not going to go anywhere." Ed tried to sound less hostile as he became more desperate to move.

"It's cold out and it's late."

"I'm not going to run off."

"I didn't say you were," Mustang was back to tilting his head at Edward curiously. Ed wasn't sure why, but that really pissed him off. Why was the Colonel making this so difficult?

"I shouldn't have said anything," Edward hissed angrily.

"What are you talking about?"

"I shouldn't have told you that I wanted to take off before! It's not like I actually left." Ed sat up fully in the bed then, leaning forward as though he was about to push himself off the mattress. "You're just being a jerk."

"Edward," Roy tried to sound patient because clearly the boy was getting worked up. "It's cold outside. If you need more air, I will open a window."

"Why can't I go outside?" Ed shoved the blankets away from his legs. He needed to move, needed to get out.

"Why do you need to go outside?"

Edward threw his arms in the air and groaned in frustration. "I need to move around. I'm suffocating in your ugly room!"

"We'll go downstairs, you can stay on the couch then."

"I want to go outside!"

"Edward…" Mustang warned. Couldn't Fullmetal just cooperate for the duration of one night?

"Screw you Colonel Bastard!"

Apparently not.

Edward swung his legs to the floor. "You can't keep me locked up in your house!"

"Calm down." Roy held up his hands in a, hopefully, placating gesture.

"I shouldn't have told you anything! You can't keep me here! Let me go." There was that trapped feeling once more bubbling up to the forefront. It suddenly and fiercely constricted his chest and caused his heart to race once more. Then, emerging from the darker places of Edward's mind, the faint whisper… I found you again… my little golden boy that ran away…

Edward was up on his feet and searching wildly about the room. It wasn't just in his head. It was whispered in his ear, he had felt the warm breath, the sound of the knife cutting through strands of hair, the taste of blood filling his mouth….

"Sit down, Fullmetal." The Colonel was standing over him now too. Demanding that he sit and allow himself to be trapped again. Pinned under a chair, in the middle of nowhere, bleeding to death…

"Edward!" Mustang came into sharp focus then and Edward felt hot anger swell within him. Colonel couldn't hear it, the whispers or the damn rushing water that was always there underneath it all, waiting to drag him below.

"Stop telling me what to do!" Edward spun unsteadily away from the Colonel; he couldn't lash out at the man, despite his thoughts being in disarray, he clung to the promise he made of not hitting Mustang again. Instead, Ed's eyes fell upon the glass of water on the bedside table. In one swift movement, he swept it from its place. The glass shattered on the floor and Edward found himself relieved in a way. When he often felt like everything was spiraling out of control around him, he could still act and cause a reaction of his own, even if it was a destructive one.

"Edward!" Mustang shouted a warning, but Ed ignored the Colonel, he was furious and, before he knew it, he had grabbed a hold of that ugly bedside lamp and flung it as hard as he could against the far wall. The base was metal and didn't break, but the bulb shattered in a satisfying way.

"Fullmetal!"

"Get away from me! Get away from me!" Edward was screaming and pointing at the door now. Instead, Mustang slowly lifted his arm towards the boy. If he could just find a way to calm him down… However, Edward recoiled at the outreaching hand. He couldn't allow anyone near him, not when Warren Pace was still there in his thoughts. He was so angry and terrified and sometimes he couldn't see it was the Colonel and what if he did something without thinking? He had killed Pace without a thought, how easy it would be to kill Mustang on accident. Edward grabbed the edge of the bedside table and toppled it over. It landed between the two of them with a shuddering thump. "Don't touch me! Don't you dare touch me! Just leave me alone!"

Roy let his arm fall and he took one step back. He'd had enough.

"Fine." Came the terse reply. The door was being slammed then and Mustang was suddenly gone. Edward's automail finally gave out from under him and he fell to the floor in a heap. He took large, gasping breaths. Everything hurt. How was he supposed to fill his lungs with air, if it hurt when they expanded? He could suffocate and die on that floor alone now because he had made the Colonel leave. Mustang had no reason to stay and deal with him. He should force him into one of those asylums he had overheard them discussing earlier. In that moment, Edward hated them all, but not any more than he hated himself. Mood swings are a part of it.

Edward balked at the thought and then tears were streaming down his face unexpectedly. A sob escaped his throat as he dug his fingers into his scalp. What was he doing? Screaming at Mustang and driving him away? Why couldn't he stop himself from ruining everything? They were right about him. He was self-destructive. He was never going to be able to move past that fatal flaw.

Ungrateful brat. In a matter of a few seconds, Roy had stormed down the stairs and picked up the receiver for his phone. He had Hughes' number half way dialed before he slammed the receiver back down in frustration. If he called him, Maes would come over. Even though the man was supposed to work in the morning and it was the middle of the night. No, he couldn't do it. He needed to take care of this himself. He had told Maes that it would be fine and he was determined to handle the situation. He needed to be better. His head was pounding though and he was just so damn tired. He scrubbed hard at his face and raked his fingers through his hair. The Colonel stomped his foot and let out a frustrated grunt. He was aware he looked like a large child, throwing a tantrum, but he didn't care. He took another breath and then he stood up straight, the way he would when he was standing at attention for a superior officer. He just took a moment to breathe deeply. Roy nodded when he felt a calmness settle over him. He was capable, he could do this.

Mustang turned and climbed back up the stairs, slowly this time. With each step he gently reminded himself to take a breath. He needed to be sure to stay composed and he needed to be patient. A plan of action began forming in his mind and, with it, a more sturdy resolve. He paused at the door and listened. From within, he could hear Edward crying and the sound caused him to hesitate. Roy took in one more deep breath before opening the door.

Ed looked up at the noise and pressed one hand over his mouth in a futile attempt to stop the horrible sobbing noises he was making. At least he was aware enough to feel uncomfortable to be caught crying again. Roy knelt down, just out of arm's reach and made a motion toward Edward's mouth and hand.

"You need to put your hand down and take a deep breath."

Ed did as he was told, but he looked mortified when he gave a great shuddering exhale and began gulping short gasps of air greedily.

"Edward, you're going to hyperventilate. Take a deep breath through your nose and let it out slowly."

Ed gave a nod and did as he was told. After a few deep breaths, the horrible shuddering had lessened. Edward wiped away drying tear tracks from his cheeks, while inhaling deeply at the Colonel's prompting.

As Edward's breathing evened out, Mustang edged closer and closer until he was sitting beside the boy, his elbow just barely brushing Ed's side. They stayed like that for a long time, just breathing.

"Can you stand?" Roy finally asked quietly. Ed tapped the heel of his automail foot against the floor and gave a nod.

"Think so," he muttered. Mustang nudged Edward slightly with his elbow and Ed looked up at the contact.

"Get dressed. Put your coat on."

"Why?" Ed furrowed his brow in confusion.

"We're going for a walk."

They walked along the dark streets of Central for a long time. Neither spoke, but Roy made sure to stay close to Ed, slowing his pace to match the boy's shorter, limping stride. Mustang would stop at intervals, pretending to study a sign or a particular tree, giving Edward time to rest without him having to admit that his pain and automail made it difficult to walk for this long. Finally, they arrived at a place that was familiar to Mustang, but not to Edward, though he knew what it was. All cemeteries had that inescapable sadness about them; a loneliness that hung in the air all around, but rooted itself in the very soil beneath them.

Roy paused at the gate for a moment before opening it and stepping inside. Edward hesitated briefly, but then hurriedly followed his commanding officer, wary of being left alone in a dark place like this. They walked on a wide path, up a hill, past numerous, pale tombstones. Edward was thinking of breaking the stifling silence when Mustang came to a stop and sat down on a bench that Ed hadn't even seen in the dim moonlight. Ed sat down, attempting to ignore the pain that shot up from both of his legs. Despite his best efforts, he still winced from it and he hoped that the Colonel hadn't seen it in the darkness. They sat that way for a while, looking out at the quiet tombstones. Unexpectedly, Mustang broke the silence first.

"Nobody actually wants to be buried here," Roy muttered as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Most soldiers are transported back to their hometowns if they die on duty. You're only buried here if you're from here or you have no family that cares enough in the first place. Bunch of lonely bastards."

Edward took a moment to look around at all of the graves. They were simple and the majority of them had some uniformity about them. The graves of military soldiers...

"Warren Pace isn't here." Roy continued. "Maes made sure that his brother was allowed to transport his body home. Most murderers wouldn't be dealt with like that, but Hughes made sure it was done. 'For the sake of the living,' is what he said when I asked him about it."

Ed glanced at Mustang, but he couldn't read his expression. The Colonel was working his jaw, looking tense as he tried to pick his words carefully. He then stood abruptly and pointed further down the path.

"If you go down this way, past these rows here, you'll find the graves of all the victims from the Pace kidnappings. The Adalbert girl's grave is there. It's marked, but there's no name on the stone. Her parents weren't able to go through with that part yet."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Ed asked after a moment. He felt an ache in his chest and he thought it felt like something in him was breaking. He didn't want to think about the girl's parents, about how devastated they must still be… and yet something in him considered the idea that Mustang knew where all of the graves were. The Colonel had taken the time to visit them and Edward had never even worked up the courage to think about seeing them for himself.

"Edward… if you had died that day... You wouldn't be here, you would have been sent home to Risembool. I would have signed that order myself. It's something I've thought about many times… Signing that paperwork."

Roy turned, meeting Edward's gaze for a moment before looking away again. His eyes flitted from one headstone to another and Ed found himself wondering how many of the soldiers Mustang knew.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say is… you're not alone. You're never going to be alone. Even when you act violent and destroy my property. I'm not going anywhere. I said I was going to help you and I meant it."

The Colonel looked at Edward again as he waited for a response. Ed shifted, casting his eyes away to the ground before heaving himself up to stand on unsteady feet.

"I know," Edward whispered almost too quiet to hear. Ed took a breath, but he found that he didn't know what else to say. Everything just felt like too much to take in and it all seemed so damaged. He had damaged it all himself and now in his own way, Mustang was trying to put pieces back together. "Sometimes… I just can't... I can't see it."

Mustang began slowly walking back down the path; away from the Adalbert girl's grave and towards the entrance. Edward was relieved, though he felt guilty for feeling that way. But maybe it was alright… if the Colonel could understand that Ed didn't want to visit that grave, then maybe Ed was validated in his feelings. He quickly fell into step behind Mustang.

"Those other kids are gone Edward. Nothing is going to change that. All you can do now is keep moving forward." There was another quiet moment, when the only sound was there shoes upon the path. "And I'm never going to have to sign any paperwork like that for you ever. Understood?"

"Yeah," Ed felt his throat catch unexpectedly. He coughed to clear it. "I know how much you hate paperwork."

"That's true." Roy smiled briefly as they walked past the last few rows of stones, silent sentinels of those who were gone.

"Do you… think you'll end up here?" Ed found himself asking. The Colonel shrugged nonchalantly.

"Probably. I'll be right over there, next to some other solitary bastard… Hopefully, not any time soon."

"Hopefully." Edward echoed.

They took their time walking back to Roy's house. Stopping several times at various benches to just sit and breathe. As the sun was beginning to rise, the city itself was starting to wake up. They could hear the sounds of the people as they began their day. Edward found it strange. How quickly he had gotten used to the quiet of the night and how irksome he found the presence of people intruding on the calming silence.

"Will you try to sleep?" Roy asked Edward once they had entered the house again. Ed nodded.

"First, I'll fix the glass… and the lamp."

"Great." Roy said absently. He was suddenly so tired he felt like he was only a minute away from passing out where he was standing. The walk back was a bit of a daze as Mustang felt his thoughts becoming muddled and his eyes seemed to burn with lack of sleep. At that moment, he didn't care about the shattered glass or broken lamp, he just wanted to go to bed. Edward started up the stairs and Roy began drifting towards the couch. He was going to collapse there and he wasn't even going to bother removing his shoes. But then his thoughts circled back to Edward. The boy hadn't slept all night either. He needed to make sure Ed drank some water. Then there was that cut on Edward's leg that the Colonel should check on. He needed to make sure it wasn't looking infected.

Roy was half way up the stairs, wondering how comfortable it would be to just fall asleep on the staircase, when there was a loud knock on the door.

Mustang swore under his breath. He glanced back at the front door and he wanted to yell at Hughes to just use the damn key, but he wasn't sure if he had the energy to shout. Roy's head pounded as he descended the stairs. Everything really was going fuzzy around the edges of his vision now.

He opened the door and grimaced at the growing sunlight, which seemed to be made ten times worse by Hughes' too cheery greeting.

"Morning, Roy! You actually answered the door this time…" Maes' optimism faltered as he took in Mustang's appearance.

"What happened?" Hughes quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He could see Mustang wincing in the light and immediately understood that his friend was in pain, most likely from a migraine. Roy just stood there, silent. Underneath his complete exhaustion, Roy felt a swell of relief at Maes' return, but he found himself quite speechless. His brain had stuttered to a halt and he just felt like he needed a moment to gather his thoughts…

"Edward had a nightmare," Roy motioned to the stairs. When no more words came right away, Mustang just motioned again. "He threw my lamp against the wall, so we went for a walk." Roy was staring at the blurring floor now. How long had he been addressing the ground like that? He was supposed to be looking at Hughes. When Mustang looked up though, Maes was shaking his head slightly and he brows were furrowed with worry.

"Come on," Maes grabbed Roy's arm and directed him back to the living room.

"Edward…" Mustang started, but Hughes just shook his head.

"Sit down, Roy."

Oh. He was already at the couch. When did that happen?

"Edward needs to drink something." Mustang finally said as he sat down.

"Don't worry about that. I will get him something." Maes was pulling off Roy's shoes. "Just lay down before you pass out."

"I'm fine. It's just a headache."

A hand was on Mustang's forehead and he leaned away from the touch.

"You have a fever."

Roy just shook his head. That couldn't be right. He had so many things to do. Ed needed to stay hydrated and he should make him eat something again. He needed to make sure Edward wasn't going to hurt himself on the broken glass. He still needed to check the cut on his leg too.

"No, you don't," Hughes said firmly and Mustang realized he must have been listing things out loud. "Roy, Roy," Hughes was kneeling in front of him trying to get his attention and, blinking, he was able to focus his attention back on his friend. "Listen. You look terrible, you're really pale and you're sweating. You're sick."

"I'm not sick," Roy replied automatically.

"Yeah. You are. I'm sorry, but you are. You've done enough, all right? I will take care of it. This is enough for now. Just sleep."

Roy was already listing to the side. Yes, he wanted to sleep more than anything.

"You need to take care of yourself too." Hughes' voice sounded muffled as Roy felt his eyes slipping closed. A few minutes must have passed before Mustang felt the familiar hand on his forehead again and a glass of water being pressed to his lips. "Drink," was the gentle, yet firm, command. Roy leaned forward and took a few sips of water before falling back and slipping into sleep once more.

Yes, he could let Maes take over for a little while.

Mustang awoke with a start, his eyes snapping open in complete alertness. He wasn't sure if he had been having a nightmare, but he certainly felt an unexplainable sense of panic. He sat up quickly and a blanket fell away from his shoulders. Hughes must have put it there.

A glance at the clock revealed that it was nearly one in the afternoon. Almost 49 hours.

Roy felt a wave of nausea hit him and he shut his eyes against it. Now that he wasn't completely exhausted, he could tell that he wasn't well. He was sweaty, shaking and still felt like his head was being beaten upon. He spotted a glass of water on his coffee table along with two of the painkiller tablets that Hughes had brought yesterday. He swallowed the pills with a few greedy gulps of water. He then took a deep breath and sat quietly, leaning into his couch cushions.

It was then that he realized he could hear voices talking. They were coming from upstairs. Roy wondered only for a moment at who was speaking and then realized he knew one of the voices very well. Hawkeye was here.

Lieutenant Hawkeye was sitting in the chair while Edward was in the bed, propped up by pillows. They were playing a card game and judging by the way Ed was throwing his arms up in the air, Edward had just lost.

"That's two bites of stew and one drink of tea," Riza said.

"What are you two doing?" Roy asked, his voice still sounding rough from sleep.

Hawkeye smiled slightly as Edward lifted his mug from the bedside table. She then glanced at the Colonel in the doorway and her smile faded. That's when Roy realized that he must look as terrible as he still felt.

"The Lieutenant is teaching me poker, but she's really good," Ed answered as he took a quick drink from the mug.

"When I win, he has to drink some tea and eat his stew." Hawkeye looked back at Edward and motioned to the bowl of stew at his bedside. Edward frowned, but picked up the bowl.

"What happens if he wins?" Roy asked curiously.

Hawkeye glanced at Edward and Ed gave a mischievous grin.

"When I win, she tells me one embarrassing story about you."

"How's that working out so far?" Mustang was leaning against the doorframe now, his energy ebbing.

"His stew is nearly gone and I will need to get him more tea shortly. Edward can't bluff."

"Next time for sure. Let's go again." Edward slapped his hand down on the mattress impatiently. Hawkeye nodded and began shuffling the deck of cards for another round.

"Don't lose, Lieutenant."

"Of course not, sir."

It was an odd scene really. Firstly, because Roy had no idea when Hughes had left and Hawkeye had arrived, secondly because his bedside lamp now had what looked like tiny monster skulls adorning its sides and a new flame design etched around its base.

"Edward, you have no taste."

Ed glanced up in confusion and followed Mustang's eyes to the lamp he had fixed earlier. Ed shrugged.

"It's better than before."

Roy watched as they played a round. And it was true that Ed couldn't bluff and Hawkeye was impossible to read. Edward didn't stand a chance.

"Finish your tea and one bite of stew."

Edward threw down his cards in irritation, but he drained the cup and quickly took a spoonful from his bowl.

"One more," Edward said with his mouth still full.

"You shuffle them and deal this time. I'll go get you some more tea."

As she walked by the Colonel she gently placed her hand on his elbow for a fleeting moment.

"Sir." Riza only spoke that one word softly, but Mustang knew she wanted to have a word with him privately. He followed her with one last glance at Edward.

Neither of them said anything while they descended the stairs. It wasn't until Hawkeye was heating up the kettle on the stove that she broke the silence.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?"

"That depends. Was Hughes here earlier or did I imagine that?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes contacted me before going in late to work three hours ago," her voice sounded as if she was giving a report and Roy appreciated the professional tone. "He plans on leaving work early and he will be returning in four hours. Edward slept for approximately five hours total before he woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. He has lost 14 hands of poker total since then," Hawkeye smiled gently as she let her stoic manner fall away. "You were fast asleep every time I checked on you, sir. Your fever abated, but you appeared exhausted… It seems as though you both have had a difficult time."

"You don't have to stay here. There probably isn't any work getting done with you absent from the office."

"I am under orders to stay until you eat something."

"Orders? Last time I checked, Hughes wasn't your superior officer."

"No, but as you were unconscious and drooling into your couch cushions, I had to agree with him. He seemed very worried."

Roy scowled deeply. He didn't particularly like being fussed over. "I will eat."

"Stew is warmed up on the stove." Riza gathered up the now filled mug. "I'm going to go win at cards until Edward drinks this whole cup. Then I will take my leave."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Of course, sir."

Mustang ate as much stew as he could stand. He had only managed half of the bowl before his stomach was rolling. He dumped the rest of the broth down the sink and wandered back to the living room where he collapsed onto the couch and let his eyes shut. His head was still pounding, but it felt distant and he became more fascinated with the way the room seemed to wobble and blur when he opened his eyes again.

"Colonel."

Roy snapped out of his stupor and leaned his head back to see Hawkeye standing behind him.

"Edward is resting. Do you require anything?"

"No, it's fine."

"Hughes will be here in a few hours. Try to rest, sir."

The Colonel made a noise in the affirmative, too weary to give a formal response. He heard his front door closing and a quiet settled over the house. If Edward was able to rest easily, then he could probably do the same. He just needed to a few more minutes to relax. Just until his stomach settled down…

The next time the Colonel awoke, he immediately felt bile rising in his throat. He clasped a hand tightly over his mouth because he'd be damned if he was going to puke all over his couch.

With great lurching steps, he propelled himself into the kitchen and heaved into the sink. Luckily, while it had been sudden and quite violent, it was over quickly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and regarded his soiled sink with distaste. He spit and swore softly. He managed a few deep breaths and realized that his head felt a bit clearer than earlier. With his new clarity, a sudden surge of worry overtook him. How long had he been sleeping? Was Edward still all right?

Roy spun around urgently. He needed to check on Ed. Then the room tilted oddly and Mustang decided it would be better if he sat down for a moment. He collapsed heavily in his kitchen chair and took a moment to scrub at his eyes. His jaw still ached dully, but it felt like a lifetime ago that Edward had punched him in his office. Was it really just a few days ago?

There was a quiet noise from the doorway and Roy snapped his head up instantly. Ed was standing there, peering curiously at the Colonel. Mustang made a note that Edward was sweating through his pajamas again and was holding one arm around his middle as if something there was causing him pain.

"Are you alright?" Edward finally asked, when the Colonel didn't say anything.

"Yes," Roy grimaced at the taste of vomit in his mouth.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye said you were sick."

"Don't worry about it. What hurts?" Roy motioned towards Edward's arm and Ed let his arm drop back to his side.

"Nothing, it's not so bad."

"No, what is it?" They had already been through this; Ed needed to be honest with him. Edward's mouth twitched, but he wasn't in a mood to argue.

"Stomach mostly, but you're the one that just threw up in the sink."

"It's fine. Have you been drinking enough water?"

"Have you?" Ed shot back. Mustang really wished he would stop doing that.

"Probably not," Roy finally answered after a beat. Ed seemed a bit surprised at Colonel's admission.

"Me neither," Edward mumbled. Mustang took a minute to just be thankful that Edward wasn't going to start arguing with him. He wasn't in the mood for arguing right now.

"I will get us both water and we can play cards upstairs until Hughes gets here."

"The Lieutenant told me that you cheat at cards."

"I don't need to cheat to beat you, Edward." Mustang hauled himself up from the chair, looking slightly affronted.

"Bring it on then," Ed said with a slight smirk.

Their game was slow and stilted, neither of them feeling particularly well enough for banter or even small talk. However, despite his persistent headache, the Colonel was able to win hand after hand of poker. An hour went by and Edward had been coerced into drinking almost an entire glass of water.

They were in the middle of a game when Edward dropped his cards onto the mattress and leaned back into his pillows, looking depleted. He shut his eyes and gripped hard at the fabric of his shirt near his stomach. Studying him now, Roy realized the boy's sudden pinched expression was due to pain.

"Hughes brought some painkillers for you. Did you take any?"

Ed furrowed his brow and opened his eyes, giving Mustang a curious look. He stared long and hard at the Colonel with a somewhat distant expression.

"Would you really believe me if I said I hadn't? You would trust me, right now? Would you just give them to me?"

"I'm not worried about you taking too many of them. They're not that strong, Ed. And if there's anything I've learned today, it's that you are a terrible liar." Roy tried to keep the conversation light, because Edward seemed to have slipped into a darker place.

"Bluffing at a game is one thing… but hiding things to survive? I can do that."

The Colonel didn't like to admit it, but Edward was unnerving him now. The boy was giving him an intense look that he couldn't read and his tone was sharp and bitter sounding.

"I didn't take anything," Ed finally said. "Hughes offered, but I didn't want it. That's the truth."

There was a long pause and Edward stared up at the ceiling, his eyes darting around anxiously. "But I don't think you should continue to trust me," Ed said quietly.

Mustang considered this for a moment, but as he was opening his mouth to reply, Edward sat up straight and scrambled to get out of the bed.

"Bathroom." Edward quickly explained and he waved off Roy's proffered hand for support and frantically stumbled out of the room. The bathroom door slammed and Mustang heard the lock click into place.

Roy felt on edge. The exchange about painkillers had made him feel uneasy. Eventually, he went to refill Edward's glass of water and when he passed the living room, he checked the time. Still another hour until Hughes would arrive. He would have to keep it together until then. Mustang was then hit with the smell of vomit and he remembered that he hadn't finished cleaning up his mess in the sink from earlier.

Fantastic

More than 30 minutes had passed and Edward hadn't left the bathroom. When Roy asked him if he was alright, he stammered his way through an explanation about being sick to his stomach.

"Diarrhea isn't unusual for going through withdrawal." Mustang called helpfully through the door.

"I know. Please stop talking about it." As sick as he was feeling, Edward still had the energy to feel mortified and the Colonel took that as a positive sign. Roy informed Ed that he was going to be downstairs and to yell if he needed anything. Edward told Mustang to 'please leave now.'

Once downstairs, Roy took out all of the research and reports on withdrawal that Hughes had brought over and spread them on his coffee table. He then very carefully pulled out Alphonse's folded list from his pocket and placed it on top of the substantial pile. He stared at the massive amount of information for a moment before shaking his head and picking up a pamphlet at random. Perhaps he could find something useful that would help them get through the rest of the week.

The sound of rustling paper brought two things to Roy's attention. The first was that he had fallen asleep while sitting on his couch again. The second was that he wasn't alone in the room. Mustang jolted fully awake, sending the papers he had in his lap sliding to the floor. He blinked away the bleariness of sleep and forced himself to focus on the other person in the room. Edward was sitting on the floor on the other side of the coffee table with one eyebrow raised. He had clearly been in the middle of reading one of the pamphlets when the Colonel had awoken and surprised him.

Roy took a deep breath, unsure what to say. The research hadn't been a secret exactly… but he just assumed Edward would react negatively to seeing how much they had actually looked up for him. It still felt like an invasion of privacy on some level.

Edward held up Alphonse's list with a cool expression. Mustang swore in his mind. Well, that was supposed to be kept secret. Though, honestly, it was more for the sake of Edward's pride than anything.

"I didn't want Al involved. That's why I'm staying here alone in the first place." There was that clipped, bitter tone again that let the Colonel know he had to tread carefully.

"Alphonse isn't involved. He was just worried. He's trying to help. In his own way."

"I don't want him to help!" Came the response. Too quick, too loud. The paper crumpled in Edward's fist. Roy forced himself not to react, instead he just waited. Ed then sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment. He slowly expelled the air and he spoke again, calmer this time. "He shouldn't have to help. He shouldn't have to put up with this. I'm the one who messed up. I'm oldest and he's already been through…" Ed stopped and took a deep breath. "I don't want his help with this."

Mustang was silent for a long time. He watched as Edward's grip loosened around the list and his breathing returned to a normal pace. In that awkward silence, a memory of something Hughes once said to him, flitted through his mind.

"Making mistakes doesn't make you weak," Roy leaned across the table and pulled the crumpled paper from Edward's hand. "And denying help from those who care about you… is not strength."

Ed cast his eyes down and Roy though he might start crying again. But Edward took a deep breath and straightened himself up.

"I'm sorry. I just feel… angry."

"Mood swings," Mustang supplied.

"Are a part of it." Ed held up a flyer that read 'Emotional Consequences' and then let it flutter back to the table.

"You and Hughes really got all of this, just for me?"

"Hughes is worried and meticulous. It's not always the best combination."

"Colonel, are you alright?" Edward asked and Roy hesitated at the subject change.

"Fine. Why do you ask?"

"Hughes seemed worried about you and…" Edward's eyes darted across the table to a single sheet that had been set aside. Roy recognized it as that damn Alcoholism as a Disease paper and it dawned on him that Edward must have realized the material wasn't related to his own morphine withdrawal.

"Hughes worries too much and he overreacts."

"It's just that some of that stuff in there… sometimes those people get seizures when withdrawal is really bad. People die from it."

"Edward. None of that applies to me. I'm not dying."

"Well, I'm not saying you're dying, but, I mean, I don't have any idea what to do if you have a seizure or anything."

"Despite what everyone seems to believe, I am not a drunk. You don't have to worry about it."

Edward stopped himself to admitting that he had overheard some of Mustang and Hughes' conversation in the kitchen earlier. He had heard the note of worry in Maes' voice and the observation of Mustang's hands shaking. "You just don't look well…" Ed finally settled on, because it was true. This was the most rumpled and worn that Edward had ever seen the Colonel.

"It's nothing that you need to worry about. Concentrate on yourself. You need to drink more water."

Edward sulked, but when a fresh glass was placed in front of him, he didn't fight it. He took small sips and continued reading quietly on the floor. This probably wasn't what Maes had in mind when he brought all the material over, but Edward craved information and it didn't seem right to keep him from it. Mustang asked him if he would like to move to somewhere more comfortable, but Ed insisted he was fine for now. Roy thought about forcing him off the floor, but he wasn't in the mood for starting any kind of argument, especially if Ed was being more or less compliant. Instead he began sifting through research as well. Al's list was back in his pocket and the damn Alcoholism Disease sheet was shoved under the couch where it would hopefully be forgotten.

For the moment, Roy felt as though he was able to handle this whole situation appropriately. He glanced up at Edward and found the boy was engrossed in his own reading. Ed seemed content enough for now and that was a welcomed victory. If the rest of the weekend was like this, they might just get through it with no more problems.

The next hour passed by quietly, but when Roy glanced up at Edward, he realized the boy had a deep frown on his face.

"What's wrong?" Mustang asked simply. Ed jumped at his voice, surprised at the broken silence. Ed shook his head, but then paused and seemed to be considering something. Mustang waited while Edward decided whether or not to be honest. It was slightly irritating, but Roy forced himself to be patient.

"There's…" Ed's voice gave out and he cleared his throat before continuing. "There's a lot of stuff in this one about… about long term effects."

An uncomfortable stillness filled the room, while Roy began trying to gauge Ed's mood. There was a tenseness in Edward that wasn't there a few minutes ago.

"It says that withdrawal symptoms can last for months later. That they can disappear and come back for months." Edward suddenly jabbed his finger at some offending text. "That it's unclear how long this process takes. Patients have reported symptoms after a year… a year? What?" Edward turned the page over and then back. "That's all it says! What the hell? Nobody said anything about this still being a problem after a year!"

"Edward. Calm down. You weren't taking it for that long. A lot of it depends on how much you were taking and-"

"I took a lot." Edward's eyes widened as he was as surprised at the confession as Mustang was. It was true. As memories swirled in the back of Ed's mind and came into focus one after another. Edward hadn't thought about it, hadn't wanted to think about it, but the truth was there. He had made so many pills in the beginning, an abundant supply. He took them just to sleep easier, but then he was taking them during the day too. At intermittent times throughout the day he took them. Before meals, before going out, before visiting the Colonel, before writing his reports, before going on the train…And after these things, he would take another one, if he felt he needed to. He usually felt he needed too. Because without them, everything seemed like too much. He took them without even thinking about it, it had become as natural to him as breathing.

Now, sitting on the floor of Mustang's home, feeling sick and hurt and nauseated, Edward couldn't lie to himself anymore. And amongst the pain and other things he felt the smallest sense of relief. He had exhausted himself pretending he was alright for months and now he was just so tired. If he was going to be honest with the Colonel, he needed to start being honest with himself as well.

"I thought it wasn't a lot, but I think… I think it was." Edward felt like he was on the verge of tears again and he felt a swell of rising frustration. How many times was he going to breakdown before he was finally going to be done? The Colonel was supporting him and Edward had accepted his help, so why did he still feel like he was falling apart? Why couldn't he just start feeling better already?

"Edward…" Mustang started. But Ed shook his head, suddenly he didn't want to talk about this anymore.

"I don't feel well; I need to go lie down." Edward stood suddenly, wavered on his feet for only a moment before continuing toward the stairs. Roy debated whether or not to follow him, but he thought Edward wanted some space to deal with his own personal shock. Mustang needed some time to adjust as well. He had assumed Edward hadn't been taking very much morphine for very long. But now…

Roy glanced at the clock and he found himself wishing Maes would hurry up and get here. He was tired and he was feeling his energy flagging again, he needed Hughes to be there. He would know what to do now.

Edward lay in the quiet dark for a long time. He didn't think he actually fell asleep, but he let his thoughts wander aimlessly. He was brought back to awareness when he heard the voice of Maes Hughes downstairs. He heard them speaking in muffled tones, his only clue to their conversation was the tone of their voices. Mostly, their words were pitched low, so he knew they were talking about him.

Ed rolled onto his back and tried to make out the ceiling in the dim light. The sun was nearly set and very little light filtered into the room. He wasn't comfortable. He was still sweating too much and everything ached painfully. His right shoulder especially seemed to pulse with pain. Ed grit his teeth against it. Pain was not unfamiliar to him, but he still wished it would stop or let up just a little bit.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs gave Edward a sense of panic. He didn't want to see anyone right now and if it was Hughes, the man was going to want to talk with him. Ed quickly rolled away from the door and worked to even out his breathing. Maybe he would be left alone if they thought he was asleep? The door opened and Ed could see the light from the hall cast into the room. He shut his eyes and willed himself to look peaceful.

"Ed?" Came the gentle call. Hughes was checking on him. Edward continued to pretend to sleep. After a moment, Maes quietly shut the door and went back downstairs.

Edward heard the voices pick up again, but he remained still. He suddenly did actually feel very tired. Despite the constant pain, maybe he could let himself sleep.

The room felt quiet as Edward drifted off. His thoughts seemed to scatter about him as his mind began to slip away.

Suddenly, Ed felt a sense of panic rise within him as his mind jolted awake in alarm. However, the rest of his body hadn't caught up and Ed found himself in a state of alertness, but unable to move. He felt aware of the fact that he had started dreaming, but was unable to force himself to wake up and his limbs felt paralyzed as they wouldn't respond.

He couldn't move.

Ed started to screaming, but even his lungs betrayed him and he realized he wasn't actually making any sound. This caused him to panic further. If he was awake, then why couldn't he move? It felt like there was something pressing down on his chest-

Come with me.

Edward bolted up with a great gasp of air. It was a dream, just a dream…. And yet…

Ed.

Edward leapt from the bed, scrabbling desperately so he wouldn't fall over, he spun, searching the dark room. He had heard it right near his ear. Warm breath and whispered words…

Ed was really panicking now. There wasn't anyone there and he was making too much noise. They would come up to check on him soon and what would he say? That he was hearing voices? The Colonel would think he was crazy and he really would have him locked away somewhere; in one of those hellhole asylums.

My little golden boy.

"Shut up!" Edward yelled into the nothingness. Then he clasped a hand over his mouth in horror. The Colonel and Hughes would have definitely heard that. He needed to do something. He needed to make this stop. He couldn't keep going with his mind in disarray, with Warren Pace whispering in his ear… He couldn't do this. He had to do something. He had to. Then a familiar idea flickered through Edward's mind. He had an idea of how to make it stop. Colonel wouldn't like it, but Mustang didn't understand. Not really.

"I'm not your little anything," Ed hissed into the darkness. There were footsteps on the stairs, but Edward had made up his mind now. He grabbed his discarded coat and boots before resolutely walking to the window and flinging it open.

There was a flash of light as Edward quickly transmuted footholds into the side of the house. He pulled himself over the sill and quickly climbed down. When he was just a few feet from the ground, he saw the light from the hallway light up the room above him. Ed looked away and quickly finished his descent. He could hear Hughes call his name and Edward felt a flicker of guilt. He had to keep going. Without looking back, Edward disappeared into the night.

As soon as Roy heard Hughes calling him in that startled, frightened voice, Mustang dropped the book he was holding and rushed to the upstairs bedroom. His own fatigue was completely forgotten as he burst into the room to find it void of a certain small alchemist.

Edward had run off.

Roy felt a buzzing fill his skull as he stumbled back down the stairs without hesitation. He grabbed his boots from the floor and shoved his gloves into his pocket before rushing out the door in such a frenzy that he didn't hear Maes calling him. Mustang was out on the sidewalk, turning in a circle, before Hughes was able to grab both of his shoulders to stop his movement. Roy took in a large gasp of air at the contact as Maes' voice filled his mind and cut off the incessant buzzing sound.

"Where would he go?" Hughes gave the Colonel a slight shake. "Roy! Where would he go?" And Hughes was gripping him hard now, keeping him focused, keeping him from a reaction that was so much like blind, terrifying panic. But Mustang shook his head. He didn't really know where Edward would go… and yet, he had some ideas forming in his mind, but he hesitated. Ed couldn't be that stupid, could he?

"Did he say anything about wanting to leave? Would he go to the opium dens again?"

"I don't know. He said he shouldn't be left alone... I don't know. I don't know..." As he heard himself repeating the words over and over again, Roy felt so lost and weak and why did Edward always make him feel so damn helpless? Mustang felt a wave of nausea, no not now, he needed to fix this. He was going to fix this. Think, Roy pleaded with himself. Please, think. What would he do? Where would he want to go? Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Roy hoped Ed wouldn't try to get more opium. Of course he was craving, but had Ed really succumbed to it? He had been sleeping fine, but when they had heard him yell, he had assumed Edward was having a nightmare again...

"I want to go back." Roy felt a wave of dread fill his gut.

"What?" Maes released Roy's shoulders, looking concerned.

"It's what he said. He had woken up from a nightmare before and it's what he said... I want to go back." Roy locked his eyes with Maes and he could see that cold sense of dread come over his friend's face as well.

"Back where?" Hughes already had a feeling, but he hoped he wasn't right.

"The woods. That cabin." Roy turned away and began moving slowly, gradually his pace picked up. "Where he killed Warren Pace."

Hughes swore loudly in a way that didn't really suit him. Why did every one of his bad feelings have to be realized?

"Really? Are you sure, Roy?"

Yes, it had fallen into place. If it was Mustang in this position… if he had been trying to kill his demons, he would have gone back there as well. During the war, Roy always went back to those battlefields where so much blood was spilt, where soldiers and civilians were burned alive in his wake. How many times did he find himself there? Standing on the edge of a massacre, searching for a way to force peace onto his mind again. He never found it.

Hughes was shaking him, calling his name. Mustang had stopped walking without realizing it and had been staring hard at the pavement, but Maes always brought him back. He was always there to pull him from that edge of darkness.

"Maybe we can catch him." Roy snapped to attention at that. He grabbed Hughes' arm and squeezed hard. I'm fine, I'm here, Mustang wordlessly assured him. Then, together, they began to run.

They ran and ran until their hearts raced and pounded in their ribcages vehemently. Their sides felt like they would split and sweat poured from their brows, but Mustang wouldn't slow his pace. They had reached the edge of the city when Maes grabbed Roy's arm, forcing him to slow and stop. Mustang was too out of breath to argue, but he swiped Hughes' hand away in irritation.

"Roy," Maes said breathlessly. "Stop, wait. You're still sick. Rest for a second."

"How-" And Roy gulped air shakily before he could go on. "How do you expect me to stop?" Mustang doubled over despite his protests. He felt like he might throw up again, but he fought the sensation. Instead, he motioned desperately to the dark tree line in the distance.

"He can't be too far ahead. I'm not going to leave him alone out here. Who knows what state he is in?"

"I know. I'm not abandoning Edward. I'm not. But you are here with me and you are still one of my priorities. Please just breathe for a minute." Hughes inhaled deeply and took off his glasses to wipe sweat from his eyes.

Mustang wanted to protest, but... damn, the ground seemed to be moving beneath his feet and his pulse was pounding so hard in his head that he felt like his skull might burst open.

"Fine," Roy gasped and he continued taking in big gulps of air. He rested his hands on his knees and spit away the saliva that was filling his mouth. He gagged slightly and Maes' hand was on his back, moving up and down his spine. He moved his hand to the base of Roy's neck and then around to the other side to check Roy's pulse. Mustang wasn't sure what the hell he was checking for. His pulse was going to be too fast and erratic, but maybe it was more a force of habit. Maes moved his hand back to the base of Roy's skull where his dark, sweat soaked hair clung to his skin. Hughes firmly began messaging the back of Roy's neck and, almost immediately, Mustang felt his persistent headache diminish.

For not the first time, Roy marveled at Hughes' ability to know how to take care of people. He just innately knew how to help and Mustang felt a swell of gratitude at that.

With one last deep breath Mustang straightened up and Hughes' hand settled on his friend's shoulder. Roy wasn't sure if that gesture was meant to be comforting or if Maes needed a moment to lean on someone as well.

"We need to think about this. It's dark out and we're not going to help anyone if we get lost in the woods." Hughes's voice had taken on an authoritative tone, but Roy just shook his head.

"The moon is nearly full so we have light and I know your men made a path when they were investigating the area. We won't get lost."

"Roy, that was months ago that we made that path. It's probably overgrown."

"No, it's autumn. Nothing new is growing. If we lose the path, we'll just do what Warren Pace did and follow the river."

Maes winced slightly at Pace's name, but Mustang didn't see it. Even after all this time, Hughes couldn't bring himself to mention that name casually. It still caused him pain.

"Fine, but stay close to me," Hughes relented.

"Of course."

Edward ran.

He ran until his feet carried him away from the city, across grassy fields and then straight to the woods. He plunged into that darkness without hesitation. He felt his clothes snag on tree branches and his feet stumbled over roots and stray rocks, but he forged on. He ignored the cuts and bruises he was gathering from making this journey in the dark, driven by a frenzied desire to put an end to this once and for all.

He found the place he was looking for. Indeed, it was like a great force had drawn him there. He had only made this trip once, but in his nightmares he had travelled there many times. The way to the shack in the woods would forever be engraved into his mind, just as the path to Milly Adalbert's body would forever be etched in the skin above his heart.

As he stood still in the gaping doorway, he felt a warm gust of wind brush across his face. It was as if that, upon his arrival, the worn out structure was giving a quiet sigh of relief, as if the accursed place had been waiting for his return. Ed peered into the darkness, breathing fast, feeling unable to catch his breath. Before his shaking legs could betray him and carry him far away from this terrible place, Edward pulled together the last remnants of his foolish courage and stepped inside.

His eyes adjusted slightly to the dark, aided by the bit of moonlight, pooling on the ground from the open doorway. Edward's footsteps seemed too loud as he stepped resolutely forward. He strained his eyes and… yes, there were the spikes that he had transmuted coming out of the floor. If he looked hard enough, he could maybe see the places where they were darkened by blood, dried long ago.

That's where he had killed Warren Pace.

Edward cast his eyes around the room. Even though it was dark he could see that he was alone. It was just him and his thoughts and his own ragged breathing…

Ed stepped out of the light, letting his feet carry him into the darkness. There was nothing here. Nothing.

Then his boot kicked something solid and he stumbled back, uttering a short gasp. Edward knew what it was without his eyes needing to adjust.

The chair.

Sat upright and moved to the side, but it was still there and Edward recognized clearly. That stupid, mundane, ordinary thing that should not have scared him the way it did. Ed's heart pounded in his chest as he studied it. It's nothing, he told himself, it's just a shack in the woods, it's just a chair… and then there was a feeling of pressure on his back and he felt his breath hitch as his lungs stopped working and his breathing ceased altogether. The silence around him was interrupted as a soft rushing filled his ears and then a warm breath of a whisper in the dark…

Edward…

The path was not easy to follow in the night. And Roy knew that Hughes was fighting hard not to say anything about how foolish this endeavor was. Mustang could barely see his feet. The actual path was lost to them and they were stumbling around in the dark struggling to hear the sound of the river to their right.

In the end, it was the screaming that alerted Roy and Maes to Edward's location. Thankfully, they hadn't been too far away when they had heard it. The sound sent Roy crashing through foliage and stumbling over roots, desperately trying to get to Fullmetal, who was for all the world sounding as though he was being violently attacked.

It was difficult to see in the dim moonlight filtering through the trees, but the cabin stood there amongst the forest looking the same as when Roy first set eyes on it months ago. The only difference was that the door had been broken off its hinges and moved to the side. Through the opening, Mustang caught sight of red fabric. His eyes didn't have time to take in anything else before he propelled himself forward into that darkness, reaching desperately into that ever gaping maw and grasping red material and flailing arms, frantically trying to catch hold of a boy who seemed to be screaming and lashing out at the darkness around him. But it wasn't just the empty night that Edward was fighting. Splintered wood was cast down at Edward's feet and Roy recognized what was left of a chair leg in Edward's hand. With a chaotic fervor, Ed threw the piece of wood across the room where it landed with a crack against the wall.

The chair was destroyed, but Edward was still screaming something indiscernible and thrashing at nothing. Mustang grabbed Edward around his middle and forcefully dragged him away. Ed's fist caught Roy in the shoulder and Mustang nearly stumbled over Ed's legs as the boy kicked out in utter terror. Hughes was saying something as he grabbed Roy by the arm and hauled them both towards the door.

Once they were out in the open, Mustang collapsed on the ground, unable to carry a desperately struggling Edward any further. Ed was still yelling at nothing and madly trying to get away, but now he was crying too. Wailing in despair as he tried to push Mustang away, to get up and run from that place. He struck the Colonel in the side and he heard the solid impact his automail fist made, but, though he was winded now, Mustang would not let him go.

"Ed..." Mustang tried, but Edward didn't seem to hear him.

Confronted with a hysterical Edward, Roy did the only thing he could think to do. He moved his arms around Ed, securing his hold on the boy, and pulled him tightly to his chest. Ed's struggled increased for a moment, but as great sobs finally overtook him, Edward was hit with a wave of familiarity. He wasn't in danger, this was the Colonel. He could hear his voice, recognize his scent... He was safe. All at once, Ed went limp into Mustang's embrace and found he was burying his face into Roy's shirt as he cried brokenly. A long moment went by and Roy realized Edward was saying something over and over again. He glanced up at Hughes, but the other man just shook his head; he couldn't make out what the boy was saying either.

"It's all right, Ed," Hughes began whispering. "It's all right. Just breathe."

With the exception of his shuddering breaths, Edward went still at the sound of Hughes' voice. The three of them sat in silence for a long time. Roy's gaze had landed on the shack again, sitting innocuous in the dark and Mustang found he felt affronted by its very existence.

"Hughes, is this place still evidence? Do you need it?" Roy's voice had taken on a hard edge and the severity of it surprised Maes.

"No, why?"

Hughes didn't have time to worry about what Mustang was thinking before the man was shoving Edward away and into Maes' arms. Hughes grabbed Ed reflexively, stopping the boy from falling to the ground.

"Take him back," The Colonel commanded as he stood up tall and turned away to face the shack. Maes' saw a flash of white fabric appear from Roy's pocket and his stomach dropped.

"Roy, wait!"

There was a snap, and just like that, the little cabin exploded into flames, burning with such ferocity that Hughes felt the heat engulf him completely before he could get in another protest. Smoke and warmth took away Hughes' breath as he was forced to stumble backwards with Ed in his arms. He squinted back at Roy who stood, facing the fire head on, he snapped again and something inside the shack exploded as the roof went up in flames.

"Damn it!" Hughes shouted when he found his voice again. "You're going to set the forest on fire!"

But the Flame Alchemist didn't answer or even move and Maes felt a familiar panic grip his heart. "Roy!" He shouted, but the Colonel still didn't move. Several paces away, Hughes deposited Edward on the ground, setting the boy behind a large tree. While Ed had stopped crying, his eyes were glazed over and he seemed entranced by the flames as they reached higher and higher.

"Edward? Can you hear me? Can you hear me?" Edward nodded slowly and Hughes clasped the boy's face gently between his hands. "Listen." He waited for Ed's eyes to turn toward him. "I need you to stay here. I need to go get the idiot Colonel. Understand? Don't move."

Edward nodded again.

"Good. Good boy." For the briefest moment, Maes pressed his face to the top of Edward's hair. If Ed had been younger, Hughes would have thought of it as setting a kiss upon his crown, the way he did when he was saying good night to his Elicia, but Edward was much too old for such things now. With one last glance at Ed, Hughes rushed forward towards Roy.

"Roy, stop!" Hughes was grabbing his friend's arm to pull him away from the heat. The tendrils of flames were licking dangerously close. Embers had burned holes into his clothes and his face was smudged from soot and smoke. Roy's eyes didn't leave the fire and Hughes looked above them at the hanging tree branches. Some of them had already burned, and it was only a matter of time before the fire spread. Hughes stepped in front of Roy and turned to face him. The heat on his back became nearly unbearable, but there was no other way. "Roy!" Hughes yelled and this time Mustang blinked and focused on Maes standing too close to fire and death than anyone should. Roy stepped back, grabbing Hughes by the elbows and dragging him back with him.

"You're going to set the whole damn forest on fire!" Maes shouted. Coming back to himself, Roy automatically pushed Hughes back several more steps before he looked back at the fire and studied it for a moment. He then knelt upon the ground. Quickly drawing in the dirt, Mustang drew a transmutation circle. With a quick glance up at Hughes to make sure he was well out of harm's way, Roy set both his hands down and activated the circle. There was a great flash of light and Hughes felt the ground beneath him give a tremendous shudder as the earth seemed to rise up and swallow the burning shack, fire and all. As if a switch had been turned off, darkness quickly engulfed them once more.

Heat from the burning pile of dirt and ruined wood still clung to the air around them as the last embers floated down to the earth. The imminent danger seemed to be over.

"I couldn't leave it." Roy finally muttered from his position knelt on the ground.

"I know. It's all right." Hughes whispered. Maes looked back and caught sight of Ed, now standing unsteadily and peering at them from behind the tree. "Let's go."

Roy took Maes' offered hand and was pulled onto his feet. Hughes brushed the ash from Mustang's arms, but it made little difference as he was covered in it. His shirt looked a bit singed around the edges and Hughes guessed that he looked much the same way. Now Mustang was walking toward Edward briskly, squinting at him hard in the dim light.

"Are you hurt?" The Colonel's voice was rough from the smoke and stress. Edward quickly shook his head. With one arm, Roy pulled Ed into a brief embrace. He clasped the boy's shoulder with a tense sort of relief, before releasing him once again. "Can you walk?" Mustang asked. Ed only looked surprised for a moment at being hugged by the Colonel twice in the same day, before he nodded and took a few cautious steps forward. He soon fell into step beside Roy as the man walked resolutely away from that horrible place.

They walked for several minutes and Hughes was working up something to say, when Mustang's voice broke the silence first. "Did you find it?" Roy asked and it took a moment for Hughes to realize he was speaking to Ed.

"Find what?" Ed asked, sounding hollow and hoarse from screaming.

"Whatever you were looking for by going back there."

"I don't know. I don't think so." There was a long pause as Edward formed his thoughts. "I was wrong about it. It wasn't just a shack in the woods."

"No, it wasn't." Roy agreed.

"I'm sorry."

Roy stopped for a moment and then resumed walking at a slower pace, listening carefully to anything else that Ed might say.

"I was trying to fix it. I wanted to fix it." It was then that Ed stumbled either from his automail or the uneven ground, Maes couldn't be sure. The boy fell to his knees and did not make an attempt to scramble to his feet again. Hughes was kneeling at his side in an instant and the Colonel had turned, but was keeping his distance.

"You can't fix everything, Edward. That's one thing you should have learned by now." While his words sounded reproachful, Roy's expression softened as he ran a hand through his own hair, sighing heavily.

"I hear him." Edward was looking away, frowning at the mud that was soaking into his knees.

"Who?" Maes asked.

"Pace. I hear him."

"He's dead." Roy put out a hand to steady himself on a nearby tree. Edward may not have noticed, but the Colonel's energy was flagging again.

"I know that, but he sounded real," Ed continued, starting to sound more frantic. "I needed to get rid of him… So I thought… but it didn't work. Please don't send me to one of those asylums. I can't go to one of those places. I can't."

"Nobody is sending you anywhere." Roy cut in sharply.

"But I'm hearing things that aren't there…"

"I don't care. Edward, I don't care." Roy more collapsed to his knees then knelt down to Edward's level. "I don't care what you hear or see. You're not crazy and I would never send you away."

"I heard Hughes mention asylums for people who are recovering..."

"Edward, there is no way in hell I am sending you to one of those places. I promised I would help you and I meant it." Roy seemed to run out of steam and Maes found himself shuffling over, setting a hand on Mustang's elbow.

"I thought… you would think I was crazy," Ed was searching Mustang's face imploringly.

"You're not crazy. It might take a while and it's going to be hard, but you are going to get better."

Hughes blinked and leaned into Roy's arm slightly. Mustang caught his glance and Maes raised an eyebrow. One dark night, some years ago, Hughes had said those exact words to Mustang. Roy looked away from Hughes, embarrassed by the proud look on his friend's face.

"Can you stand?" Roy asked; he was eager to get back home. It was still night and a quiet coldness had settled into his bones.

Edward looked like he was about to say that of course he could stand, but as he looked down at his legs, a note of doubt crossed his features.

"I'm not sure." He finally answered quietly in complete honesty. Mustang swallowed thickly and began to stand up. Maes supported him automatically and the fact that Roy leaned into his friend, proved how utterly spent he was feeling. Mustang turned his head away from Edward and huddled closer to Hughes as if he was sharing a secret with him.

"I can't carry him this time." Roy muttered under his breath. Hughes nodded gently; not wanting to bring any more attention to his friend's admitted limitations. Maes took a brief moment to make sure that Mustang was steady on his feet, before turning to Edward.

"I've got you, Ed." In one quick movement Hughes was lifting Edward off the ground before the boy could think about protesting. Ed squirmed a bit in surprise, but didn't actually complain. The three of them set off through the woods once again and Hughes found he was smiling sadly at them both. The Colonel only stumbled once, but managed to right himself very quickly.

"Careful, Roy," Hughes said quietly. "I can't carry both of you."

"I'm fine," Mustang muttered quickly. Maes actually rolled his eyes at that, certain that he was in the company of two of the most stubborn people in Amestris. Hughes glanced down at Edward to find that his eyes had slipped closed. He wasn't sure if the boy was asleep, but at least he could find some rest for now. Maes walked so closely to Roy that their elbows brushed constantly. The longer they walked, the more Mustang bumped into Hughes' shoulder, a sign that he was losing the fight to stay upright.

It didn't matter what Maes had actually said, if Roy needed him to, he would find a way to carry them both.

Roy woke up to bright light filtering in through his window. Judging by the amount of sunlight and the sound of birds chirping, it seemed it was a beautiful day outside.

Mustang wanted to throw up at the thought of it.

The light hurt his head and the damn birds weren't helping the pain. He shut his eyes against it all and willed himself to go back to sleep. However, despite the exhaustion that he still felt pulling down on him, his mind would not allow him to find rest as it began turning recent events over and over.

After they had all arrived back at the Colonel's house, Edward had been given the couch as Maes went to work bandaging the boy's old and new cuts. The bandage that had been wrapped around Ed's fingers had come loose and was bleeding freely by the time they had returned home. The cut on his leg didn't look any worse, but Hughes washed and wrapped it up again.

Too exhausted to stay awake any longer, Roy had left Hughes to his ministrations and had gone up to the upstairs room where he collapsed onto the mattress. He had a fuzzy memory of Hughes wrestling him out of his singed and ruined shirt and wiping his face with a damp cloth at some point. He had then felt something cool on his cheek and he realized Maes was putting a burn salve on his face. The balm soothed away some pains that Mustang had been ignoring. He was not a stranger to being burned or to Maes patching him up. With a deep sigh, Roy had felt himself relax and drift further into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Now that he was awake, Mustang's eyes drifted around the room that he hadn't slept in for months. He couldn't explain it, but something about sleeping there made him uneasy. The feeling had crept up on him gradually and then, after he had taken up the habit of falling asleep on the couch, the room took on a completely foreign atmosphere. He wasn't comfortable there anymore, he felt at ease when he was closer to the main door to his home. Able to get up and leave quickly, able to respond to anyone trying to enter his home… It felt like paranoia, but Roy couldn't settle on what it stemmed from.

Suddenly feeling too warm, He kicked off his blankets. He saw a flash of red and realized that Hughes had changed him into those ostentatious pajamas that he had bought for him. Mustang sighed and sat up slowly. His body ached in protest, reminding him of the strain he had put himself through.

It must have been sometime past noon, but the house was strangely silent. Roy glanced to his bedside table and caught sight of the ugly lamp. He sighed at the new skull and flame design.

Judging by the quiet of the house, Edward was probably still asleep. Grateful for the peace, Roy shuffled to the shower, hoping the hot water would relieve some of this persistent pain.

"73 hours." It had dawned on Roy as he stared at the clock on the wall downstairs and now all he could do was look at it in surprise.

"What?" Hughes asked groggily from his seat. Ed was still sleeping, drooling on the couch cushions. Maes had stayed up all morning, watching over him from the nearby armchair.

"It was 72 hours to get through the worst of it. It's been 73." Mustang swallowed thickly. "He… he's all right?" Roy glanced over Edward, looking for any signs of distress.

"He's all right." Maes assured quietly. "How are you feeling?" Hughes' head lolled to the side as he took in Roy's appearance. The Colonel was freshly showered, but he still looked too pale. In contrast to his pale skin, a small, red burn was visibly prominent across Mustang's cheek. Hughes nodded, satisfied that Roy was looking better than before at least.

"I'm fine. Go sleep, Maes. I can watch him."

"I'm all right. It's not like it's the first time I've been up all night. It's part of being a parent. Kids get sick sometimes."

The statement made Roy pause and think for a moment. He appreciated that Hughes wasn't going to talk about the times he had been up all night with the Colonel himself as he suffered through his own kinds of nightmares. As for 'part of being a parent,' Roy accepted Edward as his responsibility to take care of, but the thought that he personally might be like a parent to Fullmetal? Roy banished the notion before it could fully form. He was not a father. He had no desire to be one now or ever. Edward was not his son… Mustang glanced over as the boy let out a soft snore.

He was just… Ed.

"I can take over. Go sleep, Hughes."

Seeing that the Colonel was determined to do his part, Maes arose from the chair, stretching his sore back. Sleep sounded amazing.

"Wake me if you need anything."

"Yes, fine." Roy settled down in the chair, prepared to keep watch.

As luck would have it, Edward slept for hours after that. The sun was beginning to set when Ed began to show signs of waking. He twitched in his sleep and began moving his limbs about restlessly. Mustang didn't seek to wake him, thinking it didn't look like any nightmare he had experienced before.

Edward's eyes opened slightly and he let out a groan. He shut his eyes again and pulled his knee to his chest. The action seemed lopsided as his automail didn't move to follow the other leg. Ed wrapped his arms closely around himself as he made another noise of discomfort.

"Ed, are you all right?"

"Head hurts." Edward finally supplied groggily. "Sore." He articulated with some effort.

"Body aches are a part of it." It wasn't a helpful statement, but it was all Mustang could think to say.

"Yeah, I know." Ed cleared his throat and opened his eyes slightly. He squinted at the Colonel inquisitively.

"You're not angry are you?" Ed finally asked. Roy's mouth twitched as he decided how to answer.

"No," Roy said truthfully, "but don't ever run off like that again."

"It was worth it though." Ed sighed and blinked his eyes hard, forcing them to adjust to the light. "This is the first time I've slept without nightmares in a long time." Edward slowly, slowly, stretched his leg back out. He shifted his weight, trying to find a more comfortable position.

"Do you hear him still? Pace?" Roy asked quietly. Mustang wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer. He had been telling the truth when he told Edward that he wouldn't send him away. However, Edward hearing voices was unsettling and could be a real problem if it continued or got worse. Ed tilted his head to the side, considering his answer carefully.

"No. Everything's gone quiet."

"Good." Mustang breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted so desperately for Ed to recover, he couldn't stand it if Edward remained so broken. He would never forgive himself.

"Are you alright, Colonel?" Ed asked suddenly, halting Roy's thoughts.

"Why do you ask?"

"I think Lieutenant Colonel Hughes was scared for you last night."

Roy thought of a cloth wiping away dirt and dried sweat and burn ointment being applied to his face…

"I think I was too," Ed muttered. Mustang ran his fingers through his dark hair. His nose caught the scent of smoke and Roy realized it must be ingrained deeply in his person, in the very roots of his hair and in the tips of his fingers.

"Well, then I guess we're even," the Colonel said with a smirk.

A tense smile crept over Edward's face. "Yeah, I guess we are."

Edward didn't really fall asleep again for the rest of the day. He tossed and turned on the couch, trying to find a position that didn't cause him pain. However, the ache in his muscles had grown and his whole body felt weighted down by the pain of it. The Colonel tried to keep him distracted, offering him water and food and talking to him about Alchemy and anything that might interest the boy. Ed listened halfheartedly, not bothering to add anything to the conversation. The 72 hour mark may have passed, but Edward had not yet escaped the pain and flu like symptoms.

From the way he was wincing, it looked like Ed was fighting off another headache. Mustang could relate to the feeling. He was still working his way through his own migraine.

"You should take something, Edward." Roy said out of the blue. Ed peered up at the Colonel curiously. He looked as though he was about to argue, but in the face of the persistent pain, his stubbornness was being worn down.

"I don't want to." Ed answered honestly. "It…" Edward paused, considering how best to describe what he was thinking. "Seems like weakness."

"It's not. A few painkillers will ease some of the symptoms and… you won't crave as much."

Edward swallowed hard. He hadn't said anything about craving and yet the Colonel had picked up on it. How had he known? Ed was trying so hard to be better. The nightmares were gone, Pace was now silent in his mind, he had gotten through the worst of it, the pain would lessen soon, so why was his mind still wandering back to poppy plants, sodium carbonate and separating morphine from opium alkaloids?

He didn't even need it. He wasn't exhausted and needing sleep, his pain level was high and uncomfortable, but still manageable for now. Though he was feeling really awful, he couldn't be weak. He wanted to do this on his own…

"If I tell you an embarrassing story from when I was in the academy, will you take a few pain pills?" The Colonel was staring at the ceiling, already looking mortified by the idea. Well, that was too good to pass up.

"Alright," Ed mumbled into the blanket.

Mustang sighed, but he then grinned at the particular memory.

"A few of the other cadets didn't like me and they took every opportunity to haze me." Mustang sat forward in his seat and caught Edward's eye. The boy's eyes were wide as he listened carefully. He had never been so attentive when the Colonel was speaking before. "One day, they thought it would be funny to dye all of my clothes and uniform bright pink…"

"You're getting dust everywhere."

"It's not my fault. Most of these boxes look like they've been in here forever, probably before I was even born."

As Edward recovered, time had moved along at an odd pace. Sometimes the hours blurred together quickly and other times they moved at a painstakingly slow pace. Time had begun to slow down that Sunday evening when they realized that Edward had hit his 100 hour mark. In celebration of hitting that milestone (and to keep Ed busy), they had decided to clean the spare room upstairs. They were moving slow, working at a pace that Edward could keep up with. While he had begun to feel better, he still felt drained and achy. Roy had been working through his headache all weekend and generally ignoring the way he felt sick when he moved too much.

"That's not funny."

"What? Have you really had them for that long?"

"No, but you're not that old."

Edward scowled, but didn't have a retort. It had taken some time, but Ed had figured out when the Colonel wasn't in the mood to argue because he always got that certain frown on his face that pulled down one corner of his mouth more than the other.

"Edward! Roy! Come eat!" Hughes called from downstairs. Neither of them were very hungry, both of them had been fighting off nausea for days, but they knew there was no arguing with an insistent Maes Hughes.

"Go wash your hands," Roy prompted as they left the stuffy room.

"You're not going to wash your hands."

"I'm not covered in dust from head to foot. Honestly, how did you manage to get it in your hair?"

Mustang had gotten used to Ed's presence. And Edward hadn't had any kind of panic attack since the Colonel had burned the shack down. It was because of this established comfortableness that Roy reached over and brushed dust from the top of Ed's head. Mustang quickly realized his mistake as Ed froze in place. Roy retracted his hand quickly as though he had been burned.

"Sorry," Mustang stumbled over his apology, feeling like an idiot. How could he casually forget that Edward couldn't stand someone touching his hair? He had seen the boy's panic over it first hand and it was also specifically mentioned on Alphonse's list…

"S'fine," Ed said quickly. He moved hastily away from Roy and disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door with a snap. After a moment of staring at the closed door, listening to the sound of water running in the sink, Mustang went down the stairs. If Edward didn't emerge in a few minutes, he would check on him to make sure he really was fine.

Roy ignored the plates of toast and eggs that Hughes had set on the table and moved to the counter to make a cup of coffee.

"You think you two will be able to get it cleared out in a day?" Hughes asked cheerily.

"Probably not. Did you move my coffee grounds?"

"You've already had some today. If you're tired, then take a break and sleep."

"Are you serious?"

Hughes nodded his head. "Drink some water, it's better for you."

"You're a cruel man, Maes."

Edward then padded into the kitchen and picked up the plate of toast that was set on the table for him. Mustang was relieved to see Ed, but now he had something else to selfishly worry about.

"Did you actually hide my coffee?" The Colonel was now agitatedly looking through various kitchen cabinets.

"Drink water, Roy."

"You're really seriously-" Mustang had turned to glance at Edward and had halted mid-sentence. Noticing the disruption, Hughes turned to look as well.

Edward had slid a chair out and was gingerly sitting on the very edge of it, eating his toast. The two men just stared for a minute in shock and when Ed caught their eyes, he frowned and pointedly looked away.

"Don't say anything," Ed grumbled around his bite of toast.

Maes grinned like an idiot as Roy crossed his arms and turned back to the counter. His mouth quirked up in a slight smile and he felt a sense of relief go through him. One step at a time, Edward was making progress. And the Colonel was surprised at the sense of pride he felt creep up on him.

The kitchen fell quiet as Mustang watched Ed out of the corner of his eye. The boy hurriedly ate his toast and then slowly stood up from the chair, remaining calm the entire time, and then walked from the room.

Wordlessly, Hughes handed Roy a glass of water, which he took without argument.

Ed was going to be fine. They were going to be fine.

They met early in the morning on Wednesday. Roy and Edward arrived first at the designated meeting place. It was cold and quiet as they waited. In that early morning, the birds hadn't even begun to chirp yet. The minutes of waiting seemed prolonged as Ed started nervously pacing. Mustang didn't bother to tell him to calm down, figuring he needed to work out his nervous energy somehow.

As soon as Hughes and Alphonse were within sight, Al ran towards Ed as if he hadn't seen him in months. The Colonel worried that Edward was going to be crushed by the oncoming suit of armor, but once the two of them were within a foot of each other, Al set both his arms around his brother with a gentleness that didn't match the intimidating form. Ed barely had time to react to the hug before Alphonse was holding him at arm's length and talking a mile a minute. He asked Ed how he was doing and he asked if he was feeling better and he started talking about staying with the Hughes family and playing with Elicia and Brother, you look pale, have you been sleeping better? Have you been eating? And it went on and on, until Edward finally pushed Al's hands from his shoulders and tapped the younger boy in his metal chest with a loose fist.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Geez, Al."

"Sorry, I was just so worried and… and…"

"I missed you too, alright? You didn't need to worry so much. Staying with the Colonel wasn't that awful."

Roy turned from where he had been studying the grass, feeling like an outsider to the Elric brother reunion.

"Thanks, Fullmetal."

Al stood up fully quickly, as if just realizing that Mustang was there. He then bowed and Roy looked uncomfortable over the display.

"Thank you, Colonel. I'm sorry if brother caused you any trouble."

"It wasn't trouble having him there. It's not like he takes up a lot of space."

"Hey!" Ed cried in protest, but he gave the Colonel a grateful look. He didn't want Al knowing any details.

While the brothers continued talking, Maes shuffled over to stand by Roy. Hughes was looking less than enthusiastic at the early meeting. He understood them wanting to be together as early as possible, because he and Roy both had to work today and Ed was going to spend the day alone with Al, but Maes wasn't happy at the meeting place.

The graveyard gates were ominous and contradicted the happy reunion that had just taken place.

"Why are we here?" Hughes near whispered to Roy.

"Fullmetal's idea," Mustang said curtly. He hadn't been too happy about the meeting spot either. He was even more unhappy to be standing there holding a bouquet of flowers that Edward had insisted on them buying the previous evening. Honestly, the sun was barely up and Roy would have preferred to sleep in before his first day back at work after his "sick" leave. But Ed had asked and nearly pleaded with him over it. So this seemed like another step the boy needed to take.

"How are you feeling?" Maes was studying the Colonel, noticing he already looked too worn out for just beginning the day.

"Better. Tired. You owe me coffee."

"I'll bring some to your office later."

"Bring a lot of it to my office later." Roy involuntarily grimaced at a stabbing pain in his skull.

"Headache?"

"No," Roy lied quickly.

"Roy…" Hughes started.

"Just bring the coffee, Hughes. Then you can berate me more about my health."

Maes was cut off from saying anything else as Edward approached them and took the bouquet of flowers from Roy's arms. Mustang looked relieved to be rid of them finally.

"Ready, Al?" Edward asked.

"I'm ready, brother." Al said quietly. Edward turned back to the Colonel and he just stared at him for a moment.

"Can you both wait here?" Ed finally asked. Mustang didn't seem surprised by the request, but it still made him feel uneasy.

"Yes, but if you take too long, I'm going in there after you," Roy stated firmly.

Ed nodded and gave a forced smile. "You worry too much."

Roy felt his stomach clench at the truth of those words. Though, honestly, as far as Edward was concerned, he felt like he could never worry enough.

They walked silently along little paths among the tombstones. Mustang had told Ed the exact location of each stone and Edward had memorized the directions by heart. When they arrived at the first marker, Edward swallowed hard and read the name carefully. Jay Kroger. He had been 11 years old. His family was poor and the stone was small and simple. Ed slid a single rose out from the bouquet and placed it on the ground. He breathed out heavily. He hadn't known anything about this boy, but judging by the way Hughes had looked at him when he asked about it, Ed had the dark suspicion that they looked alike. They were probably about the same height… both with golden hair… maybe that's why Pace had killed him… Edward shook his head at the thought. It's not my fault. Hughes says so. Hughes and Colonel both say so. Ed stood up. When had he knelt down on the damp grass? It must have been his leg, giving out on him without him even realizing it now.

"Brother…" Al started, but Edward was already walking away quickly. Al took long strides to catch up. "Ed, if this is too hard-"

"Sorry you had to come," Edward interrupted. "I know you don't like graveyards."

"I was happy to come, brother." Alphonse hastily said. Of course he didn't like graveyards, honestly, who does? But this went beyond any feeling of general sadness at a cemetery or any childish fear of ghosts. This was a very raw sort of pain and Al could sense it coming off of Edward in waves.

They moved past other stones until Edward found the next one on his memorized list. Claudine Oda. Ed had seen her picture on Mustang's office floor all those months ago… that had been a turning point for him. That's when this whole hellish nightmare had started.

Ed placed a flower there on the ground and quickly moved on. He had begun to feel a sense of panic bubble up and he thought it would be bad for him to linger there. However, he was determined to get through this and finish what he had started.

He found the other stones quickly, reading their names and realizing how young they all were…Rupert Perce, Oliver Alwin, Tobias Winthrop and Lillias Blythe. They ranged in age from six to ten and Ed thought he might be sick while he stood by the Blythe girl's headstone. He gently placed a flower there and straightened up hastily. His head seemed to swim and before he realized it, he was stumbling into Alphonse. Al caught hold of his arm to steady him.

"Brother…do you want to go back?" Alphonse asked in a hesitant voice. Ed pushed his brother's hand away and shook his head.

"I'm fine. We're almost there."

A few more paces and then down a narrow path, Edward found the blank headstone. He took what was left of the bouquet and placed it on the ground. He then backed up quickly, knowing that if he knelt there, his leg would really give out and he would not find the strength to stand again on his own. Milly Adalbert. She had been four years old.

They stood there for a long time in silence. Al wanted to say something, but Edward seemed to be processing, working his mind through deep and darker thoughts. Alphonse thought of nights watching Edward have nightmares and of trying to comfort him. Trying to find the thing to say that would make it better. But he could never find the right words and he had watched as his older brother had begun to slip away. A part of him thought that Edward was sick, that Ed was dying and he had been so terrified by that. He just wanted his brother to heal, so he would do whatever Ed needed him to do. He would stand by this grave for hours, if that's what Edward wanted to do, if that's what would help him find peace again… Though he was sure the Colonel would come to find them before too long.

"I didn't even actually know them." Ed started and his voice sounded strained, as if he was holding back furious tears. "Feels like I did though… Hurts like I did." Ed choked on the end of his sentence. He brought his hand up and pressed it hard into the bridge of his nose. He blinked rapidly and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. He then straightened up and cleared his throat.

"I don't know what to say." Edward looked up at the sky. "Should I say something?"

"Only if you want to, brother," Al supplied, though he wasn't sure if Ed was really addressing him specifically.

"There's nothing that I can say… There's nothing I can say that will be… enough." Ed took a step forward and gave the stone a tap with his hand. "I'm sorry," he murmured. And there were so many more apologies that Ed wanted to say, but he felt them die on his lips. "I won't forget you." He wouldn't forget about any of them; they were burned into his mind and this one little girl was carved deep into his heart.

"Let's go." Edward knew that if he didn't get away now he would never be able to willingly leave her alone there with her blank stone. The thought of her being alone in this place, pulled at him and he could feel himself shutting down. No, no, he was doing well, he needed to stay in the present. He couldn't fall apart now.

Edward looked up when he realized Al wasn't beside him and he felt a grip of panic before turning to see his younger brother still at the graveside. He was about to call for him and he didn't care that he might sound borderline hysterical, but then Alphonse leaned over the stone as if he was going to share a secret with it.

"Be at peace." Alphonse studied the headstone carefully, but then he turned and stared at Ed for a long moment.

Ed found himself nodding, worrying that if he dares to speak he will begin to cry, and he is so tired of crying. He is so tired.

They walked back toward the graveyard entrance silently to find Hughes and Mustang standing at the beginning of the path, arguing. The Colonel was getting ready to go find the Elric brothers, but Hughes was arguing to give them just a few more minutes.

Maes was first to see the boys approaching and he waved. Roy then turned his head and visibly relaxed to see them both. His expression changed when he caught Edward's eye and gave him a nod, that's when Ed felt the dampness on his cheek and realized that he had started crying after all. Edward quickly wiped it away and strived forward. He was at the Colonel's side before he realized it and was leaning his face into Roy's chest. Mustang put one arm around his shoulders and began squeezing him hard. Hughes then wrapped his arms around both of them and then he made a grab for Al's arm, trying his best to turn it into a group hug. Roy let out a protest of indignation at being smashed in the middle of the embrace… and Ed laughed.

And it's been so long since he actually, truly laughed that the action feels strange. Hughes is then placing a hand on the side of Edward's head and, for a moment, Ed leans into the warmth.

He's never felt safer.

165 hours and counting….