I wish to say thank you to those who have reveiwed so far for my story. The support really helps.

Also, I firgot the disclaimer for this chapter.

DISCLAIMER:: I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist. Just my plot-line and any OC's that pop up. I own none of the songs used in this fic either. The song used in this chapter was Untitled by Simple Plan.

.:Thirteen Years Later:.

Ed sighed as he strummed his guitar and stared at the buildings around him.

He was currently sitting on the roof of the oprhanage that had housed him for the past thirteen years. He came up here when he wanted to be alone. (Which was most of the time.) He liked the fact that the traffic of the city was only a dull roar here and that the wind almost smelled clean as hit whipped his blond bangs around his face. It was peaceful here and it was his own haven.

He technicly wasn't supposed to be here but the orphanage's aids had stopped trying to keep him from his favorite spot years ago. They had finally figured it out when he was ten that there was nothing they could do to stop him from coming up here. Yelling at him did nothing and locking him in his room did nothing either. He would just pick the lock somehow and get out.

Here he wasn't disturbed by the other kids his age that would try and take his guitar away. They couldn't pick on him here for singing since to them it was something 'only girls did'. Despite the nightmares he had almost every night and despit the crushing depression he was always in he had found a sanctuary amongst the madness. His music and this roof. He had no friends and he didn't want any. He would only get hurt again when they left him and he didn't want to feel anymore pain.

Currently Ed was writing. Lyrics of course. He wrote all his own music because it was the only way he showed emotion. He didn't cry when he was upset, nor did he scream when he was angry. Not anymore. Not since that day in the hospital. He had shoved all memories of 'that night' behind a door and looked it with a million different locks, that had a million different keys and none of those locks would ever be opened again.

He didn't visit his parent's graves, or his little brother's. He didn't want to remember. Couldn't bring himself to remember. There was too much pain that came with those memories. Too much sorrow to put into words, so he kept it locked away. The memories only came alive in his nightmares.

Ed hummed a few notes, then strummed them. He'd been working this particular song for weeks now. He had the lyrics down, but now he needed to get the notes right. He had gone through at least twenty sheets of staff paper, throwing out each one when it just didn't seem right.

He was very finicky about the way his music looked on paper. There could never be scratched out notes or writing in the margins. It had to look perfect.

When the notes he had strummed sounded right he added them to the paper. Finally the right notes were coming to him and he felt that exraordinary feeling of freedom as they flowed to block out the rest of the sounds of the traffic below him. This was the only time he felt happy. When he was playing or singing or writing. Music was his life now. After the incident it had become his only reason to live. He still performed occansionaly, but in parks now instead of on street corners, and he still made a lot when he did play. But he didn't really like to play for money. It didn't matter to him what other people thought. It was his music.

He jumped suddenly as the door that led onto the roof slammed open. He turned and saw the 'headmistress' of the orphanage in the doorway. He looked confused. She couldn't be up here to tell him he had to get off the roof. She knew he wouldn't listen.

He became nervous when he finally processed the look on her face. She was frowing and looked liek she was already sorry. For what though he didn't know.

"Edward, would you come down to my office please? There is something we must speak about." Ed raised an eyebrow, letting none of his nervousness show as he put his music sheets in his guitar case, then set his guitar on top of them. He would finish the song later.

He followed the woman down the stairs to the second level of the building where her office was, silently panicing the entire time he walked.

He sat when she motioned for him to do so and waited until she was situated at her desk before he spoke.

"Have I done something wrong?" He asked. He spoke now, but not often.

"No Edward. You aren't in trouble." She sighed. "You've been with us for thirteen years now..." She began. "As of two weeks ago you turned eighteen and now that you have reached legal adulthood you no longer stay under our care."

Ed raised an eyebrow. He had known two weeks ago he would be asked to leave the orphanage, he had seen it happen to the other teens who had lived here. He was wondering waht had take so long. He couldn't wait to get out of this place.

"A small, low cost apartment has been acquired for you." The woman continued. "It is furnished with the necessities and the first two months of rent has been paid for you by the orphanage." Ah, so that was it. Ed thought, his face falling back to it's unreadable mask.

"A part time job at a cafe has also been acquired for you." She continued. "You are welcome to find something more suitable to your tastes, but a schedule of your work time has been put in your apartment already." The woman watched Ed's face as she spoke. She couldn't believe he was so calm about all this. Most people at least looked shocked. "You have a week to get anything you have here packed and moved out." She was surprised when Ed snorted.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow morning." He said, standing from his chair and picking up his guitar case. He turned and looked at the woman over his shoulder. "Just make sure a taxi is ready to take me there." The flabbergasted woman could only nod as Edward left her office. It was simply amazing to think that the boy was so...so...lifeless. Yes, that was the word. When he wasn't up on the roof with his guitar in his hands the boy appeared lifeless.

Ed went back to the section of the orphanage where the teens his age stayed. There were no private rooms and this had always irked Ed because of the nightmares he would have when he was younger.

Everyone stared at him as he alked along to his bed and pulled the suitcase from underneath it. Every teen in this room was supplied with a suitcase because of the age group (seventeen to eitheen year olds). They would soon be leaving the orphanage the headmistres always wanted them prepared. Almost as if she couldn't wait to get rid of them.

This asusmption didn't bother Ed because he was just as eager to leave. He had never liked it here, while he couldn't say he hated it he also couldn't say he liked. There were just too many people that stared at him. Too many people that knew waht had actually happened all those years ago. Wether they had gotten their information from eavesdropping on the aid's conversations about him when he first got here, or they had actually paid attention to the news stories about their newest inmate didn't matter. They knew and Ed wanted to get away from their pitying stares.

Those who didn't pity him though (most of the boys his age that is) looked at him with disgust. Wether it be from jealousy because the girls fawned over his looks and his haunted past, or because was obssessed with music again didn't matter to Ed. He didn't want anyone to stare and soon they wouldn't be able to.

He packed his things from the trunk at the bottom of his bed where his belongings were kept, making sure to leave out a change of clothes for tomorrow and then snapped the lid shut. He shove the suitcase back under the bed, then left room again to go back to the roof. His haven was calling him and for once the lyrics flying around his head were happy. Or as happy as Ed could make them, anyway.

* * *

The next morning Ed woke bright and early and lugged his suitcase out to the frotn of the building. The taxi was ready and waiting for him and Ed let a small smile grace his lips at the efficientness of the headmistress. The cabi helped him heft the suitcase into the trunk, even though it was that heavy and Ed placed himself in the back of the cab.

Only the headmistress was there to wave him off. Seeing as he had no friends there was no large group with tears in their eyes as they watched him leave, or anyone shouting good-by to him. In fact he had picked such an early hour to leave just so no one would be there at all because he knew there would be tears or shouts from 'friends' but laughter and shout of 'good ridance the freak is gone!' No one was here because everyone was still asleep.

Ed watched the delapitated buildings of Central's low class neighborhood give way to something akin to 'midclass' though it was the lowest possible for of it. The only difference from the area where the orphanage had been was that the buildings were slighly more upkept.

There was still grafitti in some places, though it was limited to the alleyways and there was the occasoinal police car passed by them going in the other direction. Ed would ahve to remember to invest in a small handgun to keep in his apartment. He hated guns but he had always admitted they were a good form of defence against inturders.

After what felt like in eternity in the morning traffic as people from the outer areas of the city migrated to the more prominent places of Central for the cabi pulled up to a red bricked building. It almost reminded him of...Knock it off Ed. Your in the completely wropng income district for this to be the same place. He thought to himself. He got out of the car, the cabi already having been paid before he left orphanage and took his suticase from the portly man who had retrieved it from the trunk.

He muttered a thanks and then trecked up the stairs to the third floor as he had been intructed. He reached a door with a small brass plate that read 234 and extracted a key from his pocket. After a few tries of turning the key he finally got the door open and entered.

He stared around the flats small kitchen/living room. There was a fridge next to him against the wall and the counter extended about four feet to the place where the linoleum stopped and carpet began. A table was set in the middle of the room and the wall opposite him held cabinets and door he expected went into a small pantry.

He set down his suitcase and waled to the slightly stained porcelain sink that was situated in the middle of the kitchen counter and tried both taps. Satisfied when they both gushed water he turned them back off and went to inspect the living room.

Directly across from where the kitchen ended there were two windows that shone most of the apartments light into the room. Ed was quite glad he had gotten a corner apartment, that way his rent wouldn't go up too much if he was wasting electricity during the day.

There was a small TV situated on the wall to his immediate right and a worn leather chair sat not far away from it, a small table with a remote next to it. Ed picked up said remote and tested the Tv as well. The picture was blurry and the sound a little warped by the things oldness but it was better than nothing. He flicked it back off and noticed the color of the walls for the first time. They were a cream color and the carpet was a commercial tan. He shrugged. It would work for turned to the wall and saw two door on said wall.

He opened the door closest to the window and found a small utilitarian bathroom. Once satisfied that all the water spickets in there worked as well he closed the door and went to the one to the right of it. This had to be the bedroom.

He found his deduction to be correct when he opened the door and saw a be shoved against the far wall and nestled in the very corner of the room, another window right about the foot of the bed and a desk stood next to him.

The matress on the bed was thin and the blankets were brown and looked uncomortable. He made a note to himself to invest in some better bedding when he got his first paycheck.

That reminded him, he hadn't seen that work schedule the headmistress had told him about.

He walked back out to the kitchen and saw a piece of paper on the table he ahdn't noticed before. He unfolded it and sure enough it was his schedule. There was only an adress to the place on the top. Apparently it was on of those nameless places in the richer parts fo the city.

'Oh joy.' Ed thought. 'Fussy and rushed rich people.' He scoffed and continued down. There was a small introduction about how the place expected his work conduct to be. Ed mostly ignored this hardly giving a damn what these people thought and looked at the days he was supposed to work.

Three days a week, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, for the wage of six dollars and seventy-five cents and hou to be paid every two weeks. It said at the bottom that all Ed had to do was come in and tell them who he was and he could start when ever he wanted.

Today was Sunday so Ed decided to start tomorrow. Yes his rent was paid for the first two months but he lacked the things for living such as food. He had little money left from his old performance earnings becuase of the costs of him living at the orphanage so he figured it was prudent to wait to start work. As much as he would hate getting up early tomorrow he would do it.

Suddenly his stomach growled. "Huh." He spoke out loud to himself, that one sound making him realise how quiet it was here for a downtown place. He shrugged and after lugging his suticase into his bedroom and dropping it unceremoniously onto the bed to be unpacked later he left the apartment once more and headed out to do some grocery shopping.

Later that night Ed smiled in triumph as he finally finished the song he'd been working on for weeks, even though it wasn't a particularly happy song. In fact there was nothing happy about it. The reason he had begun this song was because of a nightmare, so it was directly talking about the incident that had happened when he was a boy.

Ed could only smile because it was music. Then, wanting to test it out he began to play/sing the song.

I open my eyes
I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light
I can't remember how
I can't remember why
I'm lying here tonight

And I can't stand the pain
And I can't make it go away
No I can't stand the pain

How could this happen to me
I made my mistakes
I've got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me

Everybody's screaming
I try to make a sound but no one hears me
I'm slipping off the edge
I'm hanging by a thread
I wanna start this over again

So I try to hold onto a time when nothing mattered
And I can't explain what happened
And I can't erase the things that I've done
No I can't

How could this happen to me
I made my mistakes
I've got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me

I made my mistakes
I've got no where to run
The night goes on
As I'm fading away
I'm sick of this life
I just wanna scream
How could this happen to me

Ed sighed, the hapiness of finishing the song now only in the back of his mind. He cnestled his guitar in its case and then latched it shut, putting his folder of lyrics away in the desk drawer in his room and then turned in himself.

He made sure the door to his apartment was locked before he let himself relax and drift off to sleep.