Hello to all! Technically I should be working on my two Final Fantasy fics, but I "accidentally" watched the FMA movie and have become a little obsessed...

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. How sad.

Edward sighed heavily into the foreign night sky, his golden eyes scouring the unfamiliar heavens. It was a beautiful night, like the many he and Al had spent together camped outside, under a blanket of stars similar to this one. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine the crackle of a fire and the clank of hollow armor. He could almost imagine being home.

The meadow was bathed in silver moonlight, giving it an ethereal glow. Crickets chirped all around him and frogs sang from a nearby pond. Wildflowers gave the place a clean, familiar scent. By all accounts, he should be content.

But he wasn't. He was trapped in a strange world, filled with familiar faces and unfamiliar souls. He wasn't looking forward to going back into town, to see Al's face with a stranger's memories again. He had dealt with it for months, and each time it was like the scar in his heart was being torn open again.

But Alphonse would be worried if he didn't return soon. He stood up slowly, brushing dirt and grass off of his cloak and made his way down the hill.

Then, the sky split.

Edward couldn't get a proper scream out before he was falling, all of the colors fading from the world into nothingness. The scene became a bleached pool of white. He saw something large and dark flash by and his insides went cold. Was that the Gate?

As suddenly as it had happened, Edward came to a halt. It took a minute for his vision to stop spinning and when it finally ceased, he was staring at a white hallway.

Confusion was the first thing he felt. This looked vaguely familiar, the clean look, the blue carpet. Doors lined the walls, but one in particular stood out, the one that stood directly in front of him. A gold plate labeled it clearly: "Brigadier General Roy Mustang".

Edward's breathing caught. Mustang? He couldn't be back…here…home? Was he home? How had he gotten here? What did all of this mean?

He raised a tentative hand, his flesh one, and made to knock on the door. The limb passed right though.

He pulled it back quickly, staring at it in puzzlement. Was he dead? He had heard passing gypsies telling ghost stories before, about their transparency and lack of consistency. His limbs looked solid enough to him, though.

Maybe that's what ghosts were, though. Perhaps they were unattached souls from the opposite world.

Still pondering the possibilities, he pushed through the door like it was only mist, entering a familiar room. It was where Mustang's team did most of their work, with the row of desks and nameplates. Fuery, Breda, Havoc, Falman and Hawkeye. The room was dark and void of life, but Edward could make out a faint sliver of light from underneath another door. Edward went in.

He found Mustang at his grand desk, pouring over a file and sipping coffee by lamplight. He was a sight for sore eyes. Edward smiled slightly. He respected the man, liked him even, but never bothered to admit it. After he was separated from his home, he wished he had. He wished for an opportunity to say how much all of his friends had meant to him.

Was that what this was? Was God granting him a chance to see all the people he knew and loved one more time? To say things he should have said long ago?

He shuffled forward on silent feet, stopping before the coffee table to stand over the brunet's desk. Now that he had the opportunity, even if Mustang wouldn't hear it on a conscious level, he had no idea what to say.

"You never worked this late," he began awkwardly.

Mustang's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. Then, they widened and his expression went slack with surprise. Edward imagined his face looked similar. He wasn't expecting Mustang to hear him. "Ed?" the man choked, seemingly frozen in place.

It took Edward a moment to find his tongue as well. "You can see me?"

Mustang nodded slowly, as if a sudden movement would make the boy evaporate. "Is this some kind of dream? Or maybe the coffee," he offered the mug a brief glare.

"Strong coffee," Edward remarked. "I don't know what this is," he admitted to the General. "One minute I'm walking in the other world, and the next I'm outside of your door in this one." He shrugged.

"Other world?" Mustang questioned, seeming to have regained his composure.

"Yeah. It's on the other side of the Gate. It's like this one, but without alchemy."

"No alchemy?" Mustang said with a frown, then shook his head. "Never mind that. You're alive, and that's what matters here. Al's been combing the world for you, Ed. He refused to believe you were dead."

Edward's insides tightened. "Al's alive? So it worked…?"

"Yeah. You got his body back," Mustang smiled.

A silence stretched between them. It wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, but Edward had things to say, and he didn't know how much time he would be allowed to say them. "Mustang, I've wanted to tell you 'I'm sorry' for a long time," he began, considering his choice of words carefully. "I was never fair to you. I was young and brash, but that shouldn't be an excuse. You were always looking out for Al and me, but I was bound and determined to make your life as difficult as possible. I'm sorry for that."

A small smile crept across the brunet's face. "I knew you would understand it someday, Ed. You had your reasons, too."

"That's no excuse for the way I treated you," Edward muttered, hanging his head. "Always being an ungrateful pain. You deserved more respect than I ever gave you." Edward paused a moment, then asked simply, "Can you forgive me?"

Mustang shook his head. "There's nothing to forgive, Ed. You helped me too. Probably more than you or I will ever know."

Edward smiled. "Thanks."

They talked for a long time, about Al, Hughes' family, Mustang's team, the Rockbells, Colonel Armstrong, and Mustang's career. Then they talked about Edward's new home, the world he was trapped in. They talked until the moon had risen high into the night's sky and Edward felt an insistent tugging on his mind, like he was being called away.

"I think I have to go," he said slowly, his heart clenching. He didn't want to leave from where he knew he belonged, from home. Not without seeing Al, and Winry, and not so soon.

Mustang's brow furrowed, but he nodded in understanding. "Good luck, Ed. Hope you can make it back here."

Edward nodded. "Me too. Take care of yourself, Mustang." He didn't wait for a reply before he allowed himself to let go, letting the room shift and fade, the colors melting away and reshaping.

He didn't end up where he thought he would.

He was in front of a house amidst rolling hills and open spaces. Off to the side, the charred remains of a familiar house sat, wasting away as nature moved to retake it.

A dog barked from the house before him, startling him out of his memories. A black and white dog peeked out the window, yapping its head off. A light came on inside and Edward heard muffled voices. He was too surprised to move, though, so he waited like a cornered cat while the door opened, revealing a blonde girl in a robe and house shoes. The girl's eyes widened in fear and shock.

Winry.

Next chapter should be up soon, I think. It will be with Winry, obviously, then the next will be Al.

Thanks for reading! Please review!

God Bless,

-RainFlame