Ling sat in the corner of the waiting room, his knees drawn up to his chin. After the events of the day, the hospital was so full of patients that there were no chairs left to sit in.

Ling had already been to see the doctor an hour or so ago, but he'd decided to stay and wait for some of the others to come out. He'd seen an unhappy General Armstrong and her brother pass through briefly a few hours ago, and Colonel Mustang and his lieutenant were also settled into their respective hospital rooms where they would stay for the next few days. Mei and Lan Fan had had their cuts and bruises taken care of, and so had Ed. Zampano and Jerso had also been treated, after the General, the Colonel, and several other important members of the military had spoken with the doctors. Al was still being treated for various different conditions. Malnutrition, dehydration, muscular atrophy; You name it, he had it.

Ling himself had had a bit of trouble with papers, the trouble being that he had none. Royal or not, he was still an illegal immigrant, which made him nervous about going to the hospital. But, once again, it was always good to have friends in high places. No questions were asked. Although, after being asked to treat a couple of Chimeras, Ling doubted that they would have cared.

Lan Fan had left while he was still being treated, which had surprised him. Until one of the soldiers told him that she had gone along with some of the others to retrieve Fu's body. Ling had considered following her, but thought better of it. Although Fu had meant a great deal to him, and it pained him not to be there, he had been Lan Fan's grandfather. This was a family matter, and Ling would have felt like an intruder if he had gone with her.

So for now he sat in corner of the crowded room, watching patients come and go, wondering how many of them had fought alongside of him, waiting on Ed to give him news of Al.

Ling sighed and pressed his hands to his eyes, rubbing until he saw little stars. He was exhausted. It hadn't struck him just how tiring the whole ordeal had been until he finally had a moment to rest. The doctors had said that apart from the obvious cuts and bruises, there had been some minor muscle tears. Ling put a hand to his stomach ruefully, wondering if it had happened when Father had ripped Greed from his body.

Greed.

Ling drew his knees up closer to his chin. Several of the soldiers had come up to him at various times and shook his hand, thanking him. They weren't sure exactly WHAT they were thanking him for, but they knew that he had had something to do with Father's defeat. Ling doubted that they knew that he was a different person entirely. It was Greed they really had to thank.

Every hand he shook that day tied a new knot in his stomach. One man in particular had almost broken through Ling's composure. He had said that during the battle, when Father had . . . well, EXPLODED was really the only word for it, Ling had grabbed him and kept him on his feet. Ling thought he remembered it, but he wasn't sure. Either way, it had been Greed, not Ling. But Ling merely forced a smile and shook his hand without saying a word.

Now he was alone. More alone than he'd felt in weeks. Ling knew it was bizarre that he should miss Greed. After all, the homunculus had taken over his body, even used it to KILL someone. But even so, now that Greed was gone, he felt strangely hollow, like a part of him had been torn away. Which he supposed it had.

"Ling?"

Ling looked up. Ed was standing above him, staring at him. He must have walked up in the midst of his reverie.

"Hey, Ed," he said, starting to stand up. Ed shook his head and motioned him to sit. Ling sat back down, and Ed joined him. Ling thought Ed looked even more tired than he did. No surprise, after what he'd been through.

"How's Al?" asked Ling.

"He's doing fine," said Edward, smiling. "They have him on a saline drip for his dehydration, and they're doing their best to get him fattened up again. But he's in for a long rehabilitation. The poor kid can't even stand up, he's so weak."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," said Ling.

"Oh, I'm not worried," said Ed, grinning. "Soon enough, we'll be back to sparring, just like the old days."

"The old days . . ." Ling mumbled softly. He thought back to a few weeks ago, when all that mattered to him was the secret of immortality, and more than that, becoming emperor. All of that seemed like a dream. He had just awoken, and was trying to cling to the memory, like grasping at smoke. Immortality. Nothing more than a fool's fantasy. The Philosopher's Stone, soul bonding, all of it. It wasn't eternal life, but eternal death. As for becoming emperor . . . Well, it hardly seemed to matter anymore. There were more important things in this world than power, or riches, or even his own life. Even Greed had understood that much.

Ed stared at him in silence, frowning slightly. "Ling," he said finally, "are you all right?"

Ling snapped back to reality and looked up to his friend. "I'm fine," he said hollowly. "Just tired."

Ed didn't buy it. Of course he didn't, thought Ling. He wasn't stupid. A blind man could see that Ling was in emotional tatters.

"Is it -" Ed hesitated. "Is it about Fu?"

Ling's gaze snapped back to the tile floor. That was certainly part of it. He had watched helplessly as one of the most important people in his life was killed. He had failed to protect him. In fact, he seemed to have failed to protect everyone, every time. Instead, others were forced to protect him, to make sacrifice after sacrifice for his sake. Lan Fan had lost her arm trying to save him. Fu had lost his life. Even Ed had followed him into Gluttony's stomach, and without him, Ling would have died in there. And Greed . . . Even Greed gave his life to protect him. He was a failure.

"I told you, I'm just tired," Ling snapped. Ed shut up, sorry that he had brought up the tender subject.

Ling softened, regretting his outburst. "I'm sorry, Ed," he said quietly. "I guess I'm still a little . . . unstable after everything that's happened."

Ed shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I shouldn't have brought it up. If you don't want to talk about it, I'm not gonna pry it out of you."

Ling stretched his legs back out and folded his arms. "It's not that I don't appreciate your concern, I'm actually glad to have a friend. It's just . . ." Ling let the sentence trail off into nothingness, unsure how to finish it.

Ed looked out at the rest of the waiting room. "It's ok, I know what you mean," he said quietly. "It's kind of like being in this waiting room, I suppose. It's so crowded. You're surrounded by people, but you're still alone."

Ling nodded. That made sense. He was surrounded by people who meant well, but none of them knew how to help.

"Speaking from experience?" he asked curiously.

Ed smiled slightly. "I guess you could say that," he said. "It was kind of like that for me and Al after we tried to bring Mom back. No one really understood what we were going through. Not that I can say I blame them. It's not exactly something that everyone experiences. We weren't whole, you know? We'd lost our bodies. And more than that, we'd lost our mother a second time."

"A part of you was gone," said Ling quietly. "And you could never get it back."

"Yeah."

The two boys sat in silence for a time. Ling was reminded how young they both were. The two of them were only fifteen, but they'd seen and felt more than most people experience in a lifetime. They had grown so much, so suddenly. Yet, in that moment, Ling felt that he really hadn't grown at all. He had been such a child all this time, chasing a fairy tale, relying on the grown-ups to save him.

"So what did you do?" asked Ling suddenly.

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"To replace what you lost," Ling said. A lump had arisen in his throat. "What did you do?"

Ed looked at him. "We didn't," he said shortly. "Al has his body back. I have my arm. But we can never get Mom back, or take back what we did. Al will never forget all the nights he spent alone, and I will always remember what I put him through. We have to live with that for the rest of our lives." He tapped his auto-mail leg. "This is a reminder of that. You can try to replace whatever you've lost, but it'll never be the same as the real thing. You'll never quite be whole again."

"And the pain?" asked Ling softly. "Does it ever go away?"

Ed rested a hand on Ling's shoulder. "I guess it does, after a while. But the memory doesn't." Ed thought for a moment. "Losing someone," he said slowly, "is like a scar. The grief cuts deeper than anything. You feel like you could die from it. It drains you, like a wound drains your blood. But after a while, the bleeding stops, and so does the pain. Time heals it, and you learn to live with it. But it leaves a mark. You're never the same. You never forget the pain, or what you've lost."

Ling nodded, unable to speak.

"I'm sorry about Greed," said Ed. "I can't believe I'm saying it, but I already miss him."

Ling felt the same hole in his chest he'd felt since Greed had died. Ed was right. Grief made a person no longer whole.

"It's stupid, really," Ling said after a long pause. "That we should miss him so much, I mean. After all, he stole my body and tried to kill you once."

"He came around in the end, though," said Ed.

"It's ironic, isn't it?" Ling said drily. "The very embodiment of selfish desire died in an act of selflessness."

Ed looked thoughtful. "I wonder if it was really that selfless."

Ling stared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just something that Greed said to me," said Ed. "He said that greed may not be good, but it isn't all bad, either. Saving the world, protecting loved ones, bringing back something you lost, they're all common desires. Greed goes beyond material things, like money or status. It's about what you want more than anything, and how far you would go to get it. Who knows? Maybe there's a little bit of greed in every selfless act."

Ling felt a lump in his throat.

"Before he died," he said thickly, "do you know what he told me?"

Ed was silent.

Ling swallowed hard. "He said that what he really wanted was friends."

Ed stared at him. "He . . . He really said that?"

Ling nodded. " 'Friends like us,' he said."

Ed felt a pang and looked away. "Like us, huh?" he repeated softly.

Both of them were silent for a long time.

"It makes sense, when you think about it," said Ed, finally.

"How so?" said Ling.

"He wanted riches, treasures, 'the finer things in life.' That's what he said, right? Well, what better treasure is there than friendship?" Ed smiled. "It's really the best part of living."

Ling felt a needle in his heart as he remembered what he had said to Greed after Bido's death:

"They'll always be a part of you! You can't just erase them from your soul! They're the only part of you that you chose!"

"To share your soul with other people," said Ling quietly. "To let them become a part of you, and to become a part of others. That's all he really wanted."

"From what you've told me," said Ed gently, "he got what he wanted. He died satisfied."

Ling felt the tears come before he could stop them. "Aw heck," he said hoarsely, letting them fall. "Stupid dumbass. We could have made it."

"You couldn't have, and you know it," Ed said bluntly. "You're no pushover, Ling, but you would have died if Greed hadn't done what he did."

"That doesn't matter!" said Ling angrily. "I should have tried harder!"

"There's nothing you could have done!" said Ed sharply. "There's no use in blaming yourself for something that was not your fault."

"Then I should have died with him!" choked Ling. "It's not as if it would have mattered, I'm useless anyway!" He felt himself crumble. "I can't believe I thought I could be emperor of Xing. I'm such an idiot! How can I protect my people when I can't even protect my friends? When I can't even protect MYSELF?"

Ed was staring at him, open mouthed. So were a few other people in the waiting room. Ling didn't care anymore. The tears were falling freely now, and Ling did nothing to stop them.

Let them see, he thought. I'm completely pathetic.

"Ling . . ." Ed was at a loss.

Ling looked at his friend and regretted the outburst. Ed had enough troubles without Ling pushing his own on him.

"Forget it," said Ling shortly. He wiped his face, ashamed at his childish display. "I'm sorry."

Ed smacked him upside the head.

"YOU IDIOT!" he screeched.

"Wha- what was-?!" Ling spluttered angrily.

"How many times have you saved our asses?!" yelled Ed. "You can sense the homunculi! You're the best fighter of all of us! You held your own against opponents that would have killed the rest of us in a split second! Because you helped us fight Envy and Gluttony, Lan Fan and Mustang got away safely! Partly because of your influence, Greed agreed to help us defeat Father! Without you, that wouldn't have happened! I'm sorry you lost your friends, but you can't save everyone, no matter how hard you try! Trust me, I know! You're just gonna have to live with it! SO DON'T YOU EVER CALL YOURSELF USELESS AGAIN, YOU DUMBASS!"

Ling stared at Ed in shock, his eyes as wide as saucers.

"And while you're at it," growled Ed, "instead of wallowing in self-pity, get off of your ass and do what you set out to do in the first place. You've got people counting on you. It isn't just about you, you know, you self-centered jerk. You made a promise to your clan that you would become emperor. You promised Lan Fan, too. She gave her arm for that promise. Greed and Fu gave their lives. All that will have been in vain if you can't suck it up and get over yourself!"

That shut him up.

Ed smiled, satisfied. "I'm going to get something to eat. I'll grab you something, too, if you aren't planning on starving yourself, you emo dimwit."

As Ed walked off in the direction of the cafeteria, Ling felt a new confidence. Ed was right. People were counting on him. It was high time he stopped letting them down. He wouldn't be able to save everyone, but it wouldn't stop him from protecting everyone he could. He would be emperor of Xing. He would not fail.