When the midnight hour comes and he is the only one awake, Edward takes to walking around the house. He's nothing but a ghost now - the shell of the person he used to be. He mindlessly retraces footsteps through a home that doesn't belong to him, with nothing to show for it but the soft shuffle-thump of uneven feet. It's times like this when he wonders why he stays. Edward is nothing but an infection, allowing the hate he feels for himself to seep into the walls, under the doors. It hangs in the air, heavy and almost tangible. It's there, and they both know it. It's all they can think about as the silence stretches on at the dinner table. It's on the tip of their tongues as he's forced to bed, an arm around him lest he try to escape - which he always does.
He wonders why he burdens Roy Mustang with this. He has no right, really, to force the man to care about him, for him. There's no love for him here, and Edward's well aware of this. And yet part of him still tries, having lost everyone else. Doesn't he deserve to at least try to be happy? At that thought, he chuckles bitterly to himself, the noise never rising above a whisper. Of course he doesn't deserve it - he's a fool. And worse, a murderer. He deserves nothing but the suffering he knows he'll undergo when his time is finally up, ten years from now.
At least he'll have the flames to remind him of Roy.
There's a soft shuffling behind him, a break in the routine. He doesn't want to, but Edward pauses in his step. But he won't look back. Because if he does, he knows he'll see it. The image never leaves him. He sees it when he catches sight of his reflection, and it's there every time he closes his eyes. There's a faint outline of it in the shadows that cling to doorways and corners. He's frozen in place; he won't look back, won't confront the illusion.
He doesn't want to see his brother's damaged body anymore. He just wants it to go away, to leave the torment for when his soul is collected. Because then Alphonse will have all of eternity to get revenge on his brother. All of eternity to make him face what he'd done.
The shuffling comes closer, and Edward braces himself for the feel of broken fingers creeping around his neck. But they never come. Instead, arms wrap around his shoulders, and a sleepy voice whispers, breaking the silence -
'Come back to bed.'
Silently, Edward follows Roy back to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway. He can sense it. He glances down the hallway, where Alphonse stands - and he could swear his little brother's eyes are glowing. Alphonse's last words echo through Edward's mind - I forgive you. The figure disappears, and Edward crosses the room to slip between the covers. As he does, he's made aware of a number of things at once -
Alphonse forgives him.
(Edward will never forgive himself.)
He's crying.
(Roy's holding him in a way that he never has before.)
Edward's tears dry long after the sun rises, and neither of them have moved. There's only one thing running through Edward's mind now; a question he's too terrified to voice. There must be an answer he's overlooked, but the question is too heavy, too important to ask, and so he'll have to settle for never knowing -
Why do you let me stay?