A/N: Des'ree is life

He burped rather grotesquely as he waved the beer mug in his flesh hand impatiently, making the bartender scrunch up his face in slight repulsion. The golden eyed man paid no mind to the stares and whispers surrounding him. He didn't care who saw him and he didn't care about lying low ever since his little lecture with Al. He wondered a little if Al was going to come back and try to pull him out of this one. His little brother was rather upset at him for leaving their friend's house in the middle of the night. Maybe he just gave up.

He didn't notice at all when the bartender took the mug out of his hand and filled up his cup to hand it back to him.

"I think you might need water, Son. This place don't harbor drunkards y'now. We throw 'em out in the street." the man grumbled, mustache moving against his moving mouth. Ed took time to process just what the older man was saying and when his brain finally took the message, he sneered and turned away.

"The fuck I care. 'm not drunk 'nyway." Ed slurred back, hissing his words out and almost stuck his middle finger, but he ended up sticking up his index, having a hard time wondering why the offensive gesture seemed off. The unknown man just laughed at his slow and confused movements.

"Fu' you." The bartender just rolled his eyes and grabbed for the dish cloth to dry up some mugs and wine glasses. That's it do your job, Ed thought, sneering at the way the bartender was whistling a cheerful tune. He thought it was shitty.

Everything was shitty now.

He drank again, making spectacle out of it really until his drink was gone in his hand again and the only thing in front of his face now was someone who definately was coming in second on his "don't - mess - with -me" list. His reaction to seeing the raven haired man was a slight whirl in his chair and trying to stand from the seat. He was not going to do this and Mustang was not gonna show his smug grin like he knew what the hell is going on. . . which he probably did. Edward saw Al with piercing eyes next, eyes that reminded him of his mother, eyes that had shown elation, gratitude a few years back and just this morning to judging and disappointed pools of grey emerald.

The sight frightened him so he tried turning around again, not wishing to see his baby brothers new look for him at the moment, but he was facing Mustang, the man's face nonchalant. The eye patch looked more intimidating now.

"The fuck is this?" Ed growled, slightly swaying in place. Mustang was quiet so he turned to Al who had a sad look to his eye.

"Is this the man I was waiting to see again?" Mustang suddenly spoke, Ed turned to the voice, his mind buzzing from both confusion and alcohol. "The one Miss Rockbell cried for these years." Ed felt something inside him breaking at the mention of his childhood friend, the one he left on the stairs of her new home that harbored her and her husband, the one who readily welcomed him when she first saw him.

"She's wasted her tears." Mustang finally said.

"No, I. . ." The golden haired man whispered, lost in thought. Mustang crossed his arms and surveyed the bar. The few that were occupying it were staring at the scene. He decided at that moment to drag a dazed Edward out of the bar. Al followed close behind.

When they went to the alleyway next to the pub, Ed gritted his teeth and pulled his arm forcibly from the taller man.

"Wha' you doing?!" Ed slurred.

"Brother, do you even know what you said to Winry before you left? Are you gonna go back and apologize?" Ed narrowed his eyes and looked away from Al.

"If I know your brother, Al, he won't grovel for any kind of forgiveness." The older man said.

"Shut up! You don't know me!"

"Ed, your insolence will only get you so far. Winry will probably forgive you, though, I won't blame her if she suddenly lost some connection with you at all."

"You left Winry at her house confused and hurt. She doesn't even know if she should tell her husband about what happened between you two. You can't just. . ." Al raked his hair, frustrated. Ed clenched his fists and he felt his eyes stinging and his chest tightening.

"Is that all? I already know what I did. . ." Ed saw All looking up at him, surprise on his face. "I thought I was okay with all this I was happy that she. . . that she moved on. That she has a. . ." Ed slumped down and sat on his feet, his head between his bent knees while he hyperventilated.

"Brother. . ."

"Who called you, Mustang?" Ed asked, out of breath from the dizziness he felt.

"Ms. Rockbell did." Mustang said. "I live pretty close by."

"Why do you even care about this situation. . . You don't usually give a shit about anything."

"Ed!" Al scolded.

"Shut up, Alphonse." Ed gritted his teeth.

"I won't this time! I -"

"Guys?" a womanly voice sounded with worry and something else Ed couldn't place. His mind was sluggish at the moment, but he knew who it was and his stomach churned painfully. He vomited.

In no time whatsoever, he felt a hand on his back and another pulling back his messy hair. He tried to pull away, but his bowels had other plans for the night and he continued on.

He briefly heard the voice telling Mustang and Al to go and he felt his chest and stomach tightening again.

"You look gross, Ed." Ed looked up for a moment and caught the light cerulean in her eyes and looked away.

"Why are you here?" Ed asked sharply. He felt the hand on his back tense as it was quickly pulled away like he scalded her.

"I - I'm. . . I'm here because I'm going to speak with you." Ed noticed that her voice sounded just as sharp, but he didn't know what to expect. Winry was unpredictable.

Ed stood up, his legs wobbly as he stared into Winry's face.