-pokes her head around a corner and see a very angry mob, and hides again- This is not good, very not good. -pulls out a piece of paper and pen, and starts writing- To my friend Husky-fox, I leave you my collection of Pokemon cards. Please take good care of them. To my brother, I leave you my desktop computer that I spent so long building from scratch. Whatever you do, don't let mom and dad find my yaoi that is on it.

Person: There she is!

Pojo-san: Oh, crap! -starts running for dear life- Have mercy on this poor unfortunate soul!

Well it's finally done. I have finished revising the first 9 chapters of this story, and I have posted them up! I'm so happy that it's finally done. You'll notice more of a change in the first 5 chapters than the last few. Don't worry I didn't delete entire pages and whatnot, but they are much better. So please go back and read them because I did all for you! Yeah you, especially you Emily! I don't know if that's your real name. I just did it to mess with all the Emily's in the world. I'm sorry that this chapter came up late, but I was waiting for the revisions to be done. Please forgive me!

Also please go read my oneshot The Soldier Side. I put so much effort and passion into making that oneshot and no one reads it... It makes me cry. Out of all the stories I made, Soldier Side is my personal favorite. I love it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or it's characters.

Warnings: mature themes, angst, swearing, and violence

This fanfic is rated M for mature! You have been warned!

Now enjoy the latest edition of Deus Ex Machina!

Chapter 10

The Hardest Question

"The most difficult question to answer in the whole world is only one word: 'Why?' " – Pojo-san

Roy Mustang was sitting in the hospital cafeteria, eating an overpriced hamburger and soft drink. He heard some of the women around him whispering and talking about him, but he paid them no attention. The P.A. overhead let out some faint static, and then a voice came on.

"Dr. Strong, report to room 325. Dr. Strong, report to room 325, immediately!" said the voice and then it shut off.

Room 325, thought Roy. That's Ed's room. He got up, threw his trash away, and hurried up the elevator to the third floor. When he got off he saw some burly men in scrubs and security uniforms rushing into a room down the hall. He raced toward the room, and there was shouting.

"Get the fuck away from me!" yelled an all too familiar voice. Roy stood in the doorway. Edward was awake, and gripping the bed for support. In his right hand was the IV pole, and both the antibiotic and blood bag were thrown onto the floor. He was backed up against the wall with shaky legs. There were six muscular men in the room to subdue the violent teen. A male nurse tried to approach Ed, but the pole came swinging toward him and he had to jump back to dodge it.

Roy saw a female nurse standing in the corner, looking a little stunned.

"Ma'am, what happened?" asked Mustang she looked up at him; her eyes darted between him and Ed. There was another whoosh as the IV pole swung again.

She said to him, "I came in here to replace the blood bag and check his IV when he woke up. I told him what had happened, and he started to get really angry. Then he lunged at me, and tried to attack me. T-t-then…" She fell silent. She obviously never had dealt with an enraged Ed. Mustang looked back toward Edward, and saw that two men were trying to flank him and box him in. However, Ed would have none of that, and he swung the pole out again in quick, wide arcs. He growled out at them. His gilded eyes found Mustang and he let out a vicious ripping snarl like a dog.

"You," growled out Ed at him. "You brought me here!" There was only one way that he knew how to handle Fullmetal whenever he got angry. It was sad, really. The Colonel smirked, and his military persona took over.

"I see that you're causing trouble for the hospital staff," said Roy. Something flashed in Fullmetal's eyes, but it was gone too fast for him to identify. A mask slipped over the face that stared back at him. They were really the same deep down. Both were childish in some way or another. Both of them were hiding behind a fake face, a mask. Roy had a disguise to make sure that his true intentions and plans would go unnoticed by his higher ups, and to make sure that no one could influence him. Edward on the other hand… The one reason that he could think of as to why Ed would want to masquerade was to make sure that he was emotionally detached from everyone else. However, that was only one reason. There had to be others.

"It's your fault that this is all happening," said Ed.

"Fullmetal, just put down the pole, or else I will have to use force on you." Edward started to snicker and then let out a wild laugh.

"What can you do? You're useless here!" he yelled at the Colonel with a feral look in his eyes. "This place has pure oxygen throughout the entire building, and if you use your gloves here, you'll blow up the entire thing!"

"I don't need my gloves to subdue you," said Mustang. Ed snorted at him.

"Sure you do," he said. At that moment a security guard jumped to tackle him, and the silver IV pole came swinging at the guard. It hit the man in the side, but he wrapped his hands around it and pulled hard. Edward stumbled forward, with a surprised look on his face, and tried to catch himself with the bed. However, he was too weak to support the sudden shift in his weight and fell onto his hand and knees while his left hand still held on the bed. The other men pounced on him. One of them twisted his flesh arm around his back and forced him to fall facedown on the floor while the others went to hold down his other limbs. He swore loudly and struggled against his suppressors. He felt a sharp stabbing pain in his arm as syringe filled with a sedative punctured his skin.

"No!" he yelled. "No! God damn you!" The drugs worked much more quickly than he had original thought. Everything became blurry and his eyes became heavy. He wanted to sleep. No, he did not want to sleep. The drugs were making him sleepy. He tried to fight against it but it was a losing battle. "No! No…No…n…o…" His arms grew heavy, and his flailing became more half-hearted. He went limp and was fast asleep before he knew it.

He would have no dreams here. In some back corner of his drug hazed, broken mind, he knew that he would not have any nightmares. It was the drugs. The drugs were preventing him from entering the world of nightmares and monsters. He was glad for that. They were his safety net. Too long had he woken up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and fear. Too long had he screamed in his sleep so loud that the next morning his throat was sore and rough. However, they would not be there the next time. So he would enjoy this while it lasted.

The first thing that Edward was aware of was the rhythmic beeping sound of a machine close by. He tried to open his eyes, but they felt too heavy. When he finally did open them, his eyelids immediately drooped again, and he fell back to sleep. After what felt like minutes, he opened his eyes again. This time, he was able to keep them open. He blinked a few times as he slowly processed his surroundings.

His room was dark. The blinds were drawn shut, but some of the sun's light still managed to find its way through the barrier. Turned his head to the right, he saw the heart monitor measuring his heartbeat, breathing, and blood pressure. The EKG line jumped and sank with monotone beeps every time his heart gave out a pulse. He slowly turned his head to the left, and saw the IV tube run up to two bags. He rolled his held back to stare up at the ceiling, and he moved his arms to push himself up.

At once, he was met with resistance. He pulled on his arms again and they moved only two inches. He lifted his head up a little and looked down at his wrists. A leather and cloth cuff surrounded his arm a little above his wrist with a strip of nylon cloth tied to the frame of the bed. He looked at his automail arm, and saw that it had a metal shackle around it. What was going on? Why was he tied down to the bed? When he tried to move his legs into a more comfortable position, they would not move more than an inch. A cloth manacle was tied around his leg, and undoubtedly another shackle was tied around his automail leg. He tried to sit up, at least to rest on his elbows, but he could not move his torso. He was wearing something like a straight jacket without sleeves that was also tied to the bed. Panic started to set in as he struggled against the bindings. He twisted and turned as much as he could to break himself free, but nothing was effective. Even under the force of his automail, the shackles did not give. They must be made out of either steel or titanium.

"The doctors suggested that they should restrain you," said a dark voice from the corner of his room. Ed stopped fighting and looked down at the foot of his bed. Mustang was sitting in a cheap plastic chair. He continued to speak. "Just in case you attacked another nurse, I told him that they should give you the full body restraints." Mustang was watching him with cold eyes. Edward laid his head back down on the pillows. He did not want to look at the man right now. He heard footsteps and the Colonel stood right next to him. "It took six people to take you down, and almost three of them to put you back on your bed." Ed turned his head away from the dark haired man. He tried to turn his body but it was to no avail. He did not want to talk to him or even look Mustang.

Roy sighed. The boy was trying to avoid him, and he knew it.

"You will always be a child," he said to the petite boy. "You need to grow up and stop sulking." Ed did not respond. He did not even yell at him for calling him a child. "Fullmetal, why did you attack the nurse?" He still did not respond. The raven-eyed man let out a frustrated sigh. "Why are you acting like child? Why are you attacking people?"

"So you're back to calling me Fullmetal, Colonel?" said Edward with as much acrimony that he could muster.

"Don't you dare dance around the subject. Why, Fullmetal? Tell me, why are you doing this?"

Why… For such a simple word, it is the most menacing word known to man. So much weight is held just in a single word. Why does a killer kill? Why do people believe in a higher power? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why was "why" the hardest question to answer? Who can really answer "why"? "Why" could never be fully explained. Humans may never know the "why" behind their actions; just the "how". They do not know why certain things happen, but they do know how. Maybe the Gate could answer the "why", but humans can only answer the "how". So why did he do this? Why was he angry with Mustang? Was it because he saved his life, or something else? Did his hate and anger for the man really run as deep as he thought it went? Why did it hurt him when Mustang started to call him by his codename again? There were too many "whys" for him to answer.

"Child," spat out Mustang suddenly. "I've tried and I've tried to help you, Fullmetal, but every time I do you throw it right back in my face."

"Don't pretend that you fucking care for me!" quarreled Ed acidly. He whipped his head back around to glare heatedly into the night colored eyes of his superior officer. "I know how it is with you. You just want to keep me alive so that you can be pushed through your career. You just want another tool for your convenience. You already have a sharp shooter, an intelligence gatherer, why not another alchemist? Oh wait, it gets even better." He had almost a wild look in his eyes as Mustang gave him a cutting look of his own. "Why not blackmail me to make sure that I stay in line? You know enough about the things that I've done. If I step too far out of line all you have to do is say the word, and I'll have my ass hauled off to jail. That way you can have an alchemist, who is trusted by the people, sitting in your pocket that has a dirty little secret, and is expendable and easy to replace. It's a win-win situation for you. What do you have to lose?"

They glared at each other for a few moments before Mustang spoke, "I see, so this is the view that you have of me. It's sad, really, but you're right." Those words struck Roy down to the core. "I only want you for your abilities. I don't care what happens to you as long as you are alive and back on duty the next day. We can completely ignore the fact that I even cared about your mental well being, or the fact that I had taken you into my home, or the times when I saved your life. We can forget about those things. Your alchemic abilities are the only thing that I want from you and nothing more." The air became thick with tension. He turned away from Edward and went to the plastic chair to fetch his coat.

"Where are you going?" asked Ed fiercely from his bed. Roy slipped his arms through the sleeves.

"Home," he replied. He half turned his body back to face Ed. "I'm not needed here. I'll pack up your stuff, and it will be ready for you when you get back."

"What do you mean?" questioned the blond haired teen. The wrath had washed out of his eyes to be replaced by curiosity and… Did Roy see fear in his eyes? He straightened out his coat a little.

"You don't have to say it, Fullmetal. It's obvious that you don't want to be around me, let alone live with me, so I'll get your belongings together so that you can move out as soon as you return. You can move back into your apartment and do whatever you want. I won't interfere with your plans to kill yourself anymore. If you want to die than you have my permission. I won't help you anymore. Don't worry; I won't be at your funeral." He started to walk away.

"Wait, hang on!" called out Ed. He started to struggle more violently against the restraints. The tempo of heart monitor began to increase. The machine registered the fact that his blood pressure increased and his breathing began to skyrocket, but the bells and alarms did not go off yet. He figured that it was useless to fight against them, and he decided to try alchemy. He tried to put his hands together, but they would not budge more than two inches. He began to strain his hands together to make his circle. He did not need to clap his hands completely together; he just needed them to touch. Mustang was already at the door and was turning the knob. Edward's arm started to slip slightly through the cuff. He was almost there…His fingertips connected, and he felt the surge of alchemic energy pulse through his entire being and soul. He quickly wrapped his automail hand around the shackle, and the energy burst out from his body and into the metal restraints. They fell apart. He hastily transmuted the chest restraint and the leg restraints off. The door was opened.

"Good-bye, Fullmetal."

"Hey, wait a second!" called out the young man again. He vaulted over the bed railing and onto the ground. There was a searing pain in his shoulder, and he yelped. He had forgotten about his other arm restraint. He fell to his knees as he heard the door click closed.

Ed did not need to look up to know that Mustang was gone. He arm was held up into the air by the confining cuff. Once again, his brain detached itself from the rest of his body. It did not want to be around to feel all of the anguish that was surfacing up from within him. Why did he hurt on the inside? Was he really so messed up that even Mustang gave up on him? Mustang had never given up on anything before…before him. He was such a fucked up mess. He knew it. No one could help him. No one could save him. He was too damaged and too broken for anyone to put back together again.

The air grew heavier around him as quiet tears fell down his haunted face. The tortured man wanted to scream, to start breaking things and go on a rampage. Yet here he sat, kicked, broken, and defeated. Hate was the only thing he had seen. Hate, hate and more hate. He deserved all of their hate. It was his fault. Everything was his fault. He could not please his father, he could not save his mother, he could not fix her, he turned her into a monster, and he sacrificed his brother to get her back. Envy, Wrath, Sloth… All of them were not the monsters that he thought that they were.

He was.

He was the monster. A horrible, horrible monster. Now he understood the suffering of Midas when everything that he touched would turn to gold. With Edward however, anything that he touched would break and turn for the worse, like with Mustang. He had had something. Mustang was actually willing to help him, to comfort him, and to support him, but look at what he had done. He told him to fuck off, told him to leave him alone, and fought with him every step of the way. What was wrong with him? He just shoved the last person left who would let him cry on his shoulder out of his life. The Colonel was right; he had pushed him too far away. Now it no longer mattered. He truly had no one left.

He was gone, and he had no one left. Now Edward was left to cry his empty tears alone and friendless. Inside of him he heard something break into a thousand pieces.

Kindness and cruelty…The two most opposing words in the human language. They go hand in hand because you cannot have one without the other just like a coin. Even charity can be cruel because it reminds those less fortunate of the things that they do not have. Pain could be a kindness because it reminds people that they are still human.

You have to be cruel to be kind…

He wished that it could have been done another way but there was not. He had no choice.

Why does it always have to be "we had no choice"?

What was done was done, and there was no changing it. It tore Roy up inside when he saw that look run across Ed's face, the one of fear, desperation, and dejection. But he could not reach out to that face and comfort it. He had to remain stoic and hidden as those fright filled eyes looked into his own. He had to walk away as the voice that belonged to that terrified face called out to him. He had to do it to make Edward realize how much that he needed him. He would never get a verbal response from him, but actions spoke louder than words. It tore him up even more inside as Ed called his bluff. What people did not realize was that he was human too. Another human that bleeds, cries, and feels pain just like anyone else.

Roy heard Ed yelp in pain, and he looked over his shoulder. Ed had fallen to the floor. Roy slowly closed the door, his eyes not leaving the crumpled figure on the ground. Ed's legs were curled up underneath him as he leaned up against the side of the bed with his arm hanging up in the air. He strode back across the room to the bed where the broken teen sat.

Was it wrong of him to play the boy like that? No, he had to be cruel to be kind.

He knelt down next to Ed, whose eyes were staring at the green linoleum floor. An anguished expression slowly filled his wheat colored eyes. Roy slowly reached out a hand to that haunted face. The instant that his fingertips brushed against the skin of the teen's face he cringed away from him. Ed pulled himself away from his touch. He reached out to try again but the same thing happened. No matter how many times that he tried to reach out to Ed, he would just cringe away from him. He sighed. He did deserve it, after all, and he did not blame Edward for acting this way toward him. Roy reached out, once more, with his arms, wrapped them around the now trembling petite body, and quickly pulled him close. Ed started to thrash violently against him.

"Edward, it's me. Stop it," he said gently into Ed's ear. "Calm down, Ed. Calm down." Ed slowly settled down, and he felt him move to look up at him. Their eyes met and he saw the betrayal that he had inflicted upon the lad. The golden head burned itself against his shoulder, and he felt Ed's body tremble fiercely. There was no sound, but he knew that Edward was crying. He waited patiently as he stroked the back of the teen's head comfortingly. Ed held the sleeve of his jacket in a tight grip as if he was afraid that Roy was going to disappear the instant the he let go. The tremors that racked his body quieted down, and his grip remained as strong as ever. Mustang reached up to undo the tether on Ed's hand, and it reached out to grab him when it was freed.

"You need to go back to bed. You need to sleep," said Mustang. He felt the young alchemist shake his head against his shoulder. "You won't get better if you don't sleep, and you won't recover quickly if you stay on the floor. The doctors won't like that." He felt him nod his consent, and he helped the young man to his feet and into the bed. He gently smiled down at Ed. He felt like a bastard when he made that expression. He had hurt the teen and now he was trying to comfort him. He really was a hypocrite. "Go to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up." When he moved to pull away, Edward grabbed hold of his arm, and held on. He blinked in surprise. When did Ed get so needy, for lack of a better word? "I am going to go home to get some clothes for you to change out in. I'll be right back." Ed shook his head, held on with both of his hands. He gave a small tug to pull the tall man back to him. "You're not going to let me go anywhere, are you?" Ed shook his head again. Roy sighed. "Fine," He pushed Ed over, and laid down on the hospital bed next to him. "I'll stay if that's what you want."

The teen fiddled with a piece of Mustang's sleeve for a minute. An inner turmoil warred within him. He did not understand why he latched himself onto the man like that. It felt like he was being abandoned by him. He was afraid that Mustang really was going to leave him forever if he did not hold on tight enough. He stared at the fabric that covered the arm that he held. Why did he feel like this? Why did it feel like Mustang was going to forsake him if he lets go?

"Edward," he heard Mustang say to him. He craned his head up to look into the eyes that were knitted with worry. "Are you okay?" He looked away and curled himself tightly around the arm that was in his hands. What was he supposed to say to him? There was a whirlwind of emotions blowing inside of him that he could not make sense of. He did not know where one emotion ended and where the other began. There were some that were so well blended together that he could not tell them apart. He felt the bed beneath him depress as weight was shifted. An arm wrapped around him and he was pulled into a comforting embrace that he had long forgotten.

"Ed, I'm sorry about the things that I've said to you." Roy gazed down at Ed, who refused to look up. "I know what I said was harsh and that I can never take the words back, but please forgive me." Edward did not reply, but nuzzled himself further into the person that caused him so much pain and comfort. He closed his eyes, and, with the help of the remnants of the sedative that was within him, he fell back to sleep. Roy watched the petite teen sleep, not daring to move from his spot. The grip around his arm relaxed naturally as Ed slept. He suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be at work about this time. He rolled over on his back, reached for the phone that was next to the bed, and dialed the number. He hoped that Hawkeye was in a good mood, but he doubted it since she most likely waited outside of his house for him to answer the door. Someone answered the phone.

"Mustang's office," came a male voice over the line. "Havoc speaking."

"Havoc, is Hawkeye there?" said the Colonel.

"Yes, and she's pretty pissed at you," said Havoc with a snicker. "What do you want written on your tombstone?"

"Here lies Roy Mustang whose final wish was that all female personal in the military are required to wear short miniskirts."

Mustang heard someone else speaking on the other end, and whatever they asked, Havoc replied, "Yeah it's him."

"You better have a good reason as to why I was waiting at your front step for thirty minutes," came the angry voice of Riza Hawkeye.

"I'm very sorry about that, and I do have a very good reason," said Roy as he looked down at the sleeping body next to him. "Edward is in the hospital."

"What happened?" All of the anger was wiped out of her voice.

"I'll explain when you get here. Central Hospital, room 325, on the third floor."

"I'm on my way." The other end clicked, and he heard the dial tone. He placed the phone back into its cradle, returned to his original position, and waited.

The funny thing about time is that there is so much of it and yet not enough. Once a moment has passed there is no way of recovering it. He remembered numerous occasions where he wished that he could go back to change something that already happened. However, time, like life, can only go forward and never backwards. It just marches on like a soldier. Though, the strangest thing about it is the fact that time is dictated by the rhythmic ticking of small pieces of sticks spinning around in a circle. No mortal can control time like the clock. It just counts down someone's life in such a surreal fashion that the mind can only began to comprehend it. It ticks and then chimes when an hour of life has been lost, an hour that no one could ever get back. So the minutes just slowly ticked by for Roy Mustang as he laid there in bed with a sleeping Edward. However, he needed to go to the bathroom, and the need continued to grow as the seconds flew by. He carefully maneuvered his way out of the bed as not to disturb the resting teenager. He hurried across the room to the attached bathroom.

Something did not feel right to him. He was holding onto something, something precious, and now it was gone.

Where did it go? thought Ed hazily as he slowly opened his eyes. They felt a little crusty, so he rubbed them. He placed his hand back down to strengthen his hold on the arm, yet there was nothing there. He immediately sat up, and looked around the room. Mustang was gone, and an unexplainable panic set in. Did Mustang really leave him like he said that he would earlier? Ed heard the toilet flush, and the Colonel reentered the room. His hand shot out in the man's direction. He needed to feel the reassurance that Mustang did not abandon him, yet why did he feel that way? He did not understand these feelings that he had, but it did not matter. He would think about it later because for now he let his actions speak for itself. His fingers clenched and unclenched in eagerness for Roy's return.

When Roy finished his business and returned to the room, he noticed that Edward was sitting bolt upright in the bed. He was looking around, and when his golden eyes found him, he reached out for him with a desperate hand. He blinked in surprise at the odd behavior. Ed had never reached out for him ever, let alone in apprehension. Roy's heartstrings were tugged as he went to the boy's side. Ed latched onto him again in a tight grip.

"I'm sorry," said Roy as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Nature called." It felt weird for him to apologize for something like that, but he felt obligated to.

It felt nice to Ed. Now Mustang was back with him, the panic subsided within him. He leaned back against the headboard of his bed. His fingers started to play with the cuff of Mustang's sleeve.

"Are you hungry? I can order some food for you." Roy stated. Ed was about to say no, but he thought better of it. He did not want the man to force food down his throat or anything like that, so he nodded. Roy reached over to the side table for a menu of the hospital food, and handed it to Ed. "Pick out whatever you want." Ed held the menu as if he was afraid that it would bite him. His eyes scanned for something to eat, and he finally made his selection. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. He blinked in surprise and tried again, but something reached up inside of him and blocked the words from coming out. He lifted up his hand and grasped his neck. He rubbed it and tried again. Still nothing came out. He did not understand what was going on. He had been talking just fine earlier but now, nothing. Mustang was watching him with a confused expression.

"What's wrong?" asked Roy. Ed tried to say that he did not know, but once again the words were stuck in his throat. What was exactly wrong with him? What did it mean? "Can you speak?" He tried to say no, yet there was no sound. He shook his head to give Roy a response. "I'll get a nurse." Roy left the room, and he later came back with a nurse. The nurse looked him over, and her brow furrowed.

"I'll call Dr. Weismann." She dialed a number, and her voice went over the P.A system. "Dr. Weismann, please report to room 325. Dr. Weismann, please report to room 325." She hung up the phone. The nurse tried to have Ed say something while they waited. No matter how hard he tried, the words never escaped his voice box. His shoulders slumped and he gave up trying. Dr. Weismann came, and ushered Mustang out of the room. He waited outside, and Hawkeye found him.

"I apologize for my tardiness," she said with great disdain. "General Hakuro needed me to do something for him. What happened?" In a hushed voice he explained what had happened earlier that morning (giving her vague details), and what was happening at that moment. "He cannot say a word?" Roy shook his head.

"The doctor is looking him over right now." he said. After a few minutes of waiting, the tall doctor exited the room and closed the door behind him. "What's wrong with him, doctor?"

"Physically, nothing." sighed Weismann. "There is nothing physically wrong with him that would prevent him from speaking. I believe that it's all psychological."

"Psychological?" asked Roy.

"Yes, I believe that he has purposely sealed up his words. As to the reason why, that remains a mystery to me. All I know is that he won't talk. I don't know how long he'll stay like that. Could be a few days, months, even years. It really depends on how traumatic the event was, and his frame of mind. There is nothing else I can do. I've already told him of my theory. You may go back in to see him." Riza listened with tension.

Why would Edward willing seal up his words? she thought. He was a very vocal person if his actions could not speak for him. How would he get by?

The doctor left, and Roy stared after him before he went back into Ed's room. Ed was sitting on his bed with his head twisted away to stare out of the window. Riza followed Roy in, and he shut the door behind them. Ed did not look at them but continued to stare out of the window.

"Hey," said Roy. Ed turned his head to acknowledge him and went back to the window. "Hawkeye's with me. She wanted to see how you're doing." Riza sat down on the bed.

"Hello, Edward. Are you feeling well?" asked Hawkeye. She reached up to pull a strand of hair out of his face, but he recoiled away from the touch. She looked at him confused, but she let it slide, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Riza silently watched Ed.

"The doctor told us what is going on. I was hoping that you can explain some of it from your point of view." Ed's head snapped around to glare at her. How the hell was he supposed to explain it when he could not even say a word? He did not even know why he had become a mute. His gaze softened as he pondered upon this. There must be a reason. There was always a reason for everything. The most complex situation can always be explained by a simple reason, so says Occam's Razor. Maybe the rule could help explain it, but there were too many complex thoughts and feelings blocking the reason. He threw himself into science because science could explain, and be applied to everything. However, science had failed him this time. Science could not explain why he turned himself mute.

He wanted to growl in frustration, but he did not bother trying. Why was his mind doing this? Why? Why? Why? What did it mean? What was the meaning behind all of this? Was his subconscious trying to tell him something or protect him? It all was so confusing. He glanced out of the window again. Now that had he become a mute, what would happen to him? What was he supposed to do now that he had sealed up all of his words? He knew that the words were there. He could feel them rattling inside of a chest that was chained up, but he did not know where the key was. The harder that he tried to pick the lock, the more complicated the lock became. He sighed and laid down on the bed with his back facing his guests. He came to the conclusion that it did not matter anyway. He could go without talking. It was not like anyone heard what he said anyway. Yet there was one nagging fear in the back of his mind.

Would he ever speak again?

I hope you have enjoyed the next installment to Deus Ex Machina. Please review and tell me what you think of it. I really do want to know you opinion. Also reviews might help me update faster. Go check out the story updates and news section on my profile to see updates of your favorite fanfic, and to see previews of any upcoming fanfic that I am currently writing. Hopefully, I'll be able to update again soon. I would also like to thank those who have reviewed, and have added this story and me to their favorites and/or alerts. You have no idea what it means to me to know that I am not a horrible writer. Also please go check out my oneshot Soldier Side, and go read the first 9 chapters of this story.

Have a nice day! Thank you for reading!