U4: Well... I really don't know what to make of this one. I fell asleep while listening to Linkin Park, Greenday, and Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. Then I woke up and wrote this. In this, Ed's getting thrown into a random war I made up.

*Aerugo is -according to the FMA wikipedia page- a nation to the southeast of Amestris. I thought since it was close to Ishval, it might have the same climate.

'Thoughts', "Speech", "lyrics"

Tux the Penguin, mascot of Linux: "Upsilon Four doesn't own "Holiday", by Greenday, and even though her birthday is this week, she's never going to get the rights to Fullmetal Alchemist."

Enjoy!

Edward had prayed that he wouldn't ever have to kill anyone.

But he should've known better, right? A militaristic government, dictator for a leader, and for whatever-listens-to-atheists' sake, he was in the flipping military! He should've seen it coming the moment he knew that the Fürer was a homunculus.

They were so close to finding the stone and finding out what the Promised Day was….

And the easiest way to stop that progress and make it look like the government was doing something was to start a war, right?

'Or at least that's what makes sense to me.' Ed mused. His head was so tired that all comprehension ceased at the moment.

And so the war against Aerugo was begun. Supposedly it was to get revenge for supplying Ishbal with weapons.

'What is the excuse now?' Ed thought.

He looked down at himself. A tan trenchcoat to cameoflage, and that blue unifom of a killer-disguised-hero. He was one of the masses now, the Fullmetal Alchemist wasn't the 'Hero of the people'. He wasn't the 'People's Alchemist'. He had been called to war, to protect and kill. But then again, that's what he agreed to when he had signed up, correct?

He raised his automail hand up, the glove that once covered it did a poor job now. He had transmuted his Northern Automail's fingers into diamond hard claws, like Buccaneer's. That meant that the glove was useless at the fingers and since blood soaked through, it was almost pointless to wear.

And yet he did. Sort of like how he hoped that he could go back to being happy, and how he wished he could forget all the people he killed. A pipe dream, one of those pipe dreams that you follow until you find that there's a cap welded on the end so nothing can get out. Completely pointless.

The alchemist sat down on a decent looking crate, one that would hold his weight for the time he needed it to. A busted building was in front of him, only the bottom floor still standing. He had turned the steel supports into tin, and the structure crumbled. It killed seventeen, and he wouldn't forget their faces or screams.

Being the Fullmetal Alchemist, he specialized in steel, and most metals. Most metals included iron. Blood was full of iron. All he ever had to do was to solidify that iron, and he had a dead person. Several dozen, if he counted the rate that was possible.

Anyways, back to the building. It had been made into a sort of mess hall, or at least a place where the food was being handed out. Ed wasn't hungry though, but had a morbid fascination at his situation. Mustang and Hawkeye were somewhere in the vicinity, their eyes almost hollow at the fact that they were once again on the battlefield of a massacre.

Ed smiled at himself, and snickered at how weak he was getting. Maybe he was losing it after all. He closed his eyes and put his clasped hands to his forehead, and started singing quietly. What was that song that Winry told him to listen to all those times?

"Hear the sound of the falling rain

Coming down like an Armageddon flame (Hey!)

The shame,

The ones who died without a name,

He thought of those poor people. 'Faces, but no names. They looked so much like the Ishbalans. Almost the same skin, and both had that wide eyed look of terror as they died.'

Hear the dogs howling out of key,

To a hymn called "Faith and Misery" (Hey!)

And bleed, the company lost the war today!

'Ah, yes. All of us dogs. Taught to roll over on command, shake, and speak.'

At this point, his voice wasn't quiet anymore. It was as if he was speaking normally. Mustang had taken note of his subordinate, and had stopped talking to Hawkeye.

I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies,

This is the dawning of the rest of our lives,

On holiday!

A gunshot was heard, and a soldier named Lithgow looked to another, saying "Rebel. Got what he deserved."

Hear the drum pounding out of time,

Another protester has crossed the line (Hey!)

To find, the money's on the other side!

Can I get another Amen? (Amen!)

There's a flag wrapped around a score of men (Hey!)

A gag, a plastic bag on a monument,

Oh, when he this was over and the Colonel Jerk-face was Fürer, they better not be remembered as war heroes. No, they should be known as criminals. No monuments to them, to the Aerugans yes. Not them. Not the blue-clothed army that destroyed without another reason except that they were ordered to.

I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies

This is the dawning of the rest of our lives

On holiday

Oh, Ed did beg to differ. He knew it was all hollow lies, but that the truth would shatter the carefully created reality. A crystalline reality that would be in a million pieces.

(Hey!)

(Say, hey!)

'What I wish I could say to Bradley.' Ed ground his teeth at the thought of the eyepatch wearing leader. He rolled his eyes now that Roy and Riza were paying attention, Fuerey and Havoc noticing his (rather loud) singing now.

"The representative from Amestris has the floor"

Sieg Heil to the president Gasman

Bombs away is your punishment!

Pulverize the Eiffel towers!

Who criticize your government!

Bang bang goes the broken glass and

Kill all the fags that don't agree!

Trials by fire, setting fire,

Is not a way that's meant for me!

Just cause, just cause, because we're outlaws yeah!

Yes. Outlaws. That was what they truly were.

I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies

This is the dawning of the rest of our lives

I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies

This is the dawning of the rest of our lives

This is our lives on holiday!"

And in the demolished city called Urlaub, the eldest Elric promised himself that this would never happen again. He would make sure of it. And how ironic it was that the city translated perfectly to "Holiday." On Holiday's bloodshed, he planned for the Promised Day.

Please review! I'm one of those people that jumps three feet in the air in a happy dance when she sees one.

If there's a typo, please tell me!