The room was dimly lit, the only light being an old bulb suspended from a long plastic coated wire. The lamp might as well be blinding him, as it flashed in his face so luminously. The chair he sat in was old and wooden, rickety with an uneven leg. He had to use his feet to keep the chair from wobbling from underneath him. An old table was all there was to stop the man on the other side from hopping over it and strangling the man in the wooden chair. The investigator's old eyes were narrowed and leering at him, as if already deciding that the other was scum, as if he was a bug not even worthy of being put out of its mercy with the toe of his shoe.

Edward glared back at him, reciprocating his hate and annoyance for the man. The investigation had been going on for hours now, and already it had reached to the climatic level of mind-numbing at least. It was the same questions over and over again, repeat, repeat, repeat. Did you kill him? No! Why was the gun in your hand? In case the murderer was still there! What about the bullet, did you fire one? If you look, my barrel is full! You could've reloaded it before Falman found you! There wouldn't have been time! So, did you kill him? No!

He couldn't bare the same constant questions any longer, and his fists came down on the tabletop in frustration.

'Let me break the cycle here! I did NOT kill Lieutenant Colonel Watson! I had no reason to!'

'Then why do you think someone would want to kill him?' The investigator eyed him with suspicion, as if he knew too much, and it was killing him just to keep a decent face; to keep it from contorting any further.

'I don't know! Maybe…the murderer was trying to cover something up, so that no one else would find out.' Edward reasoned, but wondered if that might have been going too far.

'But what will he be trying to cover up, now that is the question.' Again he gave a suspicious glare, and all the while Edward wanted so much for the murderer to come and shoot him down, then it would give everyone a break from his know-it-all looks.

'Another murder?'

The investigator eyed his watch curiously, and sighed finally after pulling his sleeves back down his thick arms.

'It's getting late, so I'm going to let you get back to your family, but you are still going to be held under high suspicion.' He snarled at him, to which Edward stood up from his seat, glad to be getting out of here. He grabbed his coat, but turned back from the door when the investigator called his name.

'Oh, and Fullmetal? I don't want to see you in here again. If I do, then there will be some big trouble!' Edward nodded, not even justifying the man with a said or waved goodbye, and left Headquarters in a rush. Bryony would be worried, and his son even more so.

-Later at home-

Edward opened the door slowly; the kitchen light was still on. Bryony was sat at the table, clutching a cup of coffee in her hands. Her head whizzed up quickly, looking at the door with a wondrous glare, finally to see her husband's head poke around from behind it. A great sigh of relief escaped her, and she stood up from the table, going straight over to hug him.

'Don't scare me like that.' She finally spoke. 'God, I was so worried.'

Edward looked down into her face with a look of sympathy, and with an index finger, he dragged her chin up to his, kissing her lips softly.

'It's ok. I'm back now.' He smiled, hoping the kiss had cleared away all the worries that his wife had.

'D-Do you want to talk about it?' She asked gently, smiling with knitted eyebrows. Edward paused for a moment, his face turned into a saddened frown,

'Not just yet. Let it sink in first.' Kissing her on the cheek, he let go, walking slowly into the living room. The revelations of tonight still weighed heavy on his shoulders, slowing his speed, and keeping him morbid. Looking on the couch, he found Pesha snoring gently, his head resting on a cushion and his body wrapped in a blanket from his bed. Edward sat down next to him, stroking the boy's pale blond hair as he slept. Pale like his mother's, he noted. Bryony stood by in the doorway, looking down on them both with a plaintive smile.

'He wanted to wait up until you got back, but fell asleep. I let him sleep on the sofa, so that he could greet his father when he got back.' Edward returned the smile, such devotion to his family; I hope you never lose that, Pesha. Leaning over his son, he gave a gentle peck on the boy's forehead, to which the boy stirred silently, but did not wake. I might not be here tonight, either the murderer would've killed me or I would have been taken in by the police. Pesha would've been waiting a while and Bryony would be sick with worry. I couldn't do that to them.

Suddenly, tears crawled down his cheeks slowly, and he sniffed, trying to hold them back. He wasn't even sure why; he never really liked the Lieutenant Colonel and hadn't known him for long. The man wasn't even suitable for Edward's sympathy, but it was tonight's events that made him tear up. The realisation of death's ever-ebbing presence was all he needed. His fragile state didn't help things either. Walking over, she sat by him on the sofa, pulling him into a hug while he cried on her shoulder. It had finally sunk in.

'The L-Lieutenant Colonel, I was only talking t-to him on the phone b-before I left, and now h-he's b-been…' Real tears came down, and even audible cries, which he couldn't care to muffle. 'I-I could've b-been k-k-killed tonight, b-but it w-was him, n-not m-m-me.' There was movement on the sofa behind him, and he could feel a small hand clutch at his arm. Pesha must have heard him.

'Daddy?' He drawled sleepily. Slowly, he got up and tried to weave under his father's arm, giving him a hug around his chest. Edward let go of his wife, clutching Pesha closer and trying to clear away the tears. 'What's wrong?' the boy's eyes were worried, knowing something must've been up to make his father cry so much.

'N-Nothing, Daddy just had a hard time at w-work tonight.'

'Was it that Colonel?' Pesha asked, 'Was he giving you a hard time again?'

'N-No, I'll be ok. I'll c-clear it all up tomorrow.' Pesha smiled, hugging his father harder this time.

'Good.'

From the steps, Alphonse had been listening closely, and had been since Edward had arrived home. He could practically feel the family closeness going on in the other room, and, wondering if he should become a part of it, quickly decided against it. They needed their space; they didn't need him there. He was just unexpected furniture in their family life, so he crawled back up the stairs and flopped into his bedroom, hoping to become a bed accessory, so that he needn't bother this homely life. You've really fucked it up this time, Al. Alex can't stand you, and your brother doesn't even want to know. Why am I even here in the first place? Maybe everything will be better if I ran away. But before anymore thoughts could proceed to take place, his eyelids grew heavy and he shut them to greet sleep. Maybe it'll all be better in the morning.

-The next day-

A call that morning from Falman had been taken by Edward, only to be told that he was banned from the office for a day. The murder last night must've been shock enough, and there was no need for him to have to face that right away. As he put the phone down, Edward gave a sigh of relief, he didn't feel like work anyway, and couldn't deal with the pressure of it right now. He slipped into the kitchen, lolling sleepily in a chair. His eyes wore bags underneath, as if they were going to shut any moment and take him and the extra luggage to the Land of Nod.

'Who was that?' Bryony asked, as she poured Pesha his cereal.

'Major Falman just called; says I don't need to go into work today. Apparently, last night was too much for me.'

'It will be too much for you, you can hardly stay awake.'

'Couldn't sleep last night.' He frowned blearily. 'I think I need four tablespoons of coffee this morning; something that will really wake me up.'

'How about a lie in?'

'Nah, I'm up now.' Edward skated around the table for the kettle next to the microwave. Filling it up with more water, he set it to boil and collapsed back in his chair.

'Mummy, can I stay home from nursery too?' Pesha had always been one to follow by example, and if his father wasn't going to work on Monday, then who was he to leave the house too? 'I could look after Daddy.'

'No, Pesha. Your father had a rough time last night and needs his rest; you however need to keep up your learning at pre-school.'

'Aw, but I had a rough day too. A DUCK bit me!'

'No, that was a goose,' Edward corrected, 'how is your finger anyway?' Edward pulled Pesha's hand to him, inspecting the plaster covered finger. 'Do you want me to take the plaster off?' Pesha quickly pulled his hand back. He always hated having a plaster pulled off, and hated that sharp taste of pain that lingered after the rip. 'Suit yourself.' Edward chuckled. 'It looks fine anyway, you'll be alright.' Pesha scowled, growling purposely as if he were a dog ready to tear off its leash and attack its owner with rabies-induced bites. 'Hey, none of that.' He prodded his son's nose gently. 'Now off to school with you.' Pesha got out of his chair, scowling and muttering something about being too smart for the other kids, and that he had no time for silly things like finger-painting.

'Are you off to work then?' Edward asked Bryony, laughing silently at Pesha's distaste for school.

'Yes, I'm doing a news report at noon; they'll tell me what about when I get in.'

'Then I'll see you on the news then.' Edward smiled, kissing her lips with a brightened smile. 'Where's Alphonse anyway, I thought he'd be up.'

'He already left for work, apparently; said he'd rather get an early start.'

'I see.' Edward sighed. 'Good luck then.' He knew of a time when Bryony was new to the job, and these short notice news deliveries by her boss were the simple bane of her career. He remembered once having to swallow down an aspirin from the headache, but the practise of prioritising at work had kept her up to speed, and now these short notices were accepted as part and parcel of a job well down. The good luck wasn't so much necessary, as they were now a habit of his.

'Ok and the pots done before I get back please.' She smiled, knowing full well Edward still had yet to fulfil his part of the bargain, and also a week to do so.

'I know; I haven't forgotten,' He rolled his eyes typically, 'I'll get right on it.'

'Ok, see you.' Their lips smacked together once again. He always treasured these pro-longed morning goodbyes full of reminders, good lucks, and kisses until their six year old son was making audible fake puking noises in the background.

Pesha knew it was all routine, but at least his parents were still together, unlike some of the other kid's parents in his class.

-Later-

Bryony and Pesha had not been out of the house for long, and with the pots already done and away in their places, he was already feeling the boredom. He looked around to the clock in idle curiosity. 9:00? It's only 9:00? Damn it all, when will the afternoon come? In 3 hours apparently, but it felt like a century was dragging past with no feeling or remorse for the man lying on the sofa who had to feel those years drag by and take his youthful skin with it. He knew how bad his father had wrinkles nowadays, and he didn't want to be like that for a while, no, decades yet.

Blabbing about skincare, god, I must be tired. He could really feel himself tire all at once, and his eyes fell shut, now victims to the inevitably telling symptom of old age… morning naps.

Practically as soon as he has shut his eyes, he was woken suddenly by the sound of the phone ringing. His head whizzed sleepily towards the clock. 10:00. an hour? I guess that's long enough. The phone kept ringing, and the obligation to get up and answer was too much, but his body was still sleepy, and feeling too weak to move. The ring went straight to answer phone. His and Bryony's message came on.

'Hey there, this is the Elric residence, but I'm afraid that we're not home right now, so please leave your message after the beep, and we'll get back to you as soon as we can.' How he regretted that message; it seemed to promise that he'll get up off the sofa anytime soon, and that he just couldn't do.

'Ed? Bryony? Just calling to see how Al was. I didn't know if one of you were home so, if you won't to, come out or something, to a café? We can talk or something. I get off for my lunch break at 12:00, so call back when you get this.'

Alex Mustang? Makes a break from lazing about here. Getting up slowly for the phone, he redialled the number, calling Alex back.

'Hey, I'm here Alex, just tired.'

"I thought you'd be at the office. I expected Bryony to be home. What are you doing there?"

'Some things happened at work last night, so Major Falman gave me the day off.'

"Listen, do you want to grab something to eat later, like at 12 o'clock or something?"

'Well, I guess I could.' Edward murmured through the phone. 'Are you sure Alphonse won't mind?'

"We hardly have lunch together on our breaks anymore. It'll be fine; he won't notice."

'If you're sure then; oh, where shall we meet?'

"Just come to the hospital, and I'll take you to this café just around the corner if you want."

'I don't mind, really. I'll see you there then.' Edward hung up the phone and, peeking out from the bottom of the stairs, looked at the clock. 10.10. Not long since I last checked. I'm going to be here a while longer. I might as well leave now; there are probably some things I can do before I meet Alex in town.

Edward pulled on his long brown coat, and lazily walked out of the door, making ready to walk his way into the city centre. He did so, completely forgetting what 12.00 was meant to mean to him.

-Later, the News station-

Bryony sat down at her desk, looking through the items she was meant to present that day. They had all been printed out on paper, and she looked through it all with a serious eye, carefully going through in her head what she might say in front of the cameras.

'You're on in five minutes, Bryony!' A woman called, 'Get ready to go in make-up!' She called again, and Bryony nodded her acknowledgement. A woman came to her side, pulling her about on her wheelie chair to be positioned up against a Vanity mirror. Foundation, lipstick, eyeliner, mascara and blush were laid on her face until there was not a single blemish in sight. I might as well come into the station with make-up on. She frowned inwardly.

'Ok, get ready to take your desk! Oh, and something here from the manager; something short notice.'

'Thanks, Rebecca.' Bryony smiled, but frowned again when the woman turned away. She pretended to be reading it, waiting for her order to go on the set. I'll just improvise when I get to it. It was something she was used to when anything short notice came along and not a viewer seemed to spot it out of the rest of her lines, so it was a useful skill to have.

Her order was given, and she strolled her way towards the desk where her male partner sat beside her, looking equally preened. He smiled his pearly teeth at her, and she looked away with a playful smile.

'You know I'm married.' She smiled.

'Yes, but working with you makes this job all the more worth while.' He grinned back with such confidence and airs, and she had to cringe from his words. Its lucky Edward doesn't know about this otherwise John won't make it out of the hospital.

'Keep your compliments for the single women, if you don't mind.' She rolled her eyes at his bachelor behaviour, as if all men were born with this ability to spurt out lines of romance that had been heard before and/or were useless and/or were tiring and full of clichés. Of course, all men except the one she was married to. He wasn't one for romance, but he always found his own way to make something seem extra special, and extra intimate. That man knew how to be affection, she had to hand him that. But apart from him, all the others were the same sticky problem.

'Ok! On in 5, 4, 3, 2…' They held up just one finger as the camera switched on and the bright lights of the studio beamed with their hot lamps. She knew better than to squint, and instead looked with a beaming smile into the main camera, the one that was meant to follow.

'Good afternoon. I'm John Baker,'

'And I'm Bryony Elric, and this is the lunchtime news.' John shuffled his papers, and began his media announcement with his pearly white teeth shining through the beam of light.

'Over to you, Bryony.'

'Thank you, John.' She shuffled her papers routinely, skimming through the paper she had been newly given just minutes before. Her eyes widened, and her smile disappeared; she felt like she couldn't read it.

'Bryony?' John whispered,

'Right,' she began, 'News just in that last night, at the Central Military Headquarters, an investigations officer, Lieutenant Colonel Michael Watson was shot dead in his office. The only murder suspect so far has been the Fullmetal Alchemist, Colonel Edward Elric, who was interrogated for 3 hours just after the murder took place. So far, he denies all accusations and has been allowed to walk free, though he is still under high suspicion. No news yet on how the Lieutenant Colonel's family is taking the news in this tragic time or on what the Colonel's family thinks to these accusations.' She put down her papers, and with an uttered sorry, she left the desk and walked off the set. Her mascara was beginning to run down her face in tears.

The accusation rung in her ears, and she wanted so desperately to escape it. She knew with his job in the State that he might one day kill a man, but she didn't expect it to be one of his fellow comrades. But worst of all, he didn't tell her himself. And she had to go up there that day and announce to the world what she did not know before hand, to say that her husband was being classed as a murderer within the State.

Please don't have killed that officer. I know you wouldn't; it's just not like you.

She collapsed in her chair at her desk, and the tears came rushing out. What could she do now? Nothing, she could only think this far.

-Meanwhile-

Edward waited at the entrance of the hospital, and with an impatient sigh, he took out his pocket watch and viewed the time. 12.05. Don't be in any longer. I'm starving. He grumbled, as did his stomach, and he waited this time within the entrance, finding it hard to wait with the bristling cold against his face.

Amongst the people that came in and out, he saw a tall black head stroll towards the entrance, and found those thin brown eyes searching him as he did for the man.

'Alex!' Edward waved, and Alex waved in return.

'Come on, let's eat. I'm starving!' Alex smiled.

'You're telling me!' Edward laughed.

They continued out of the hospital, and Alex began to lead the way towards a café that, as he had said before, was just around the corner from the hospital. It was small, quaint and had tables and chairs set up on the pavement outside, separated from passer bys by a black metal railing. Ordering lunch and bringing it with them on a tray, they both sat at a table with coffee steaming from their holders and a sandwich each on porcelain plates.

'So,' Edward began between mouthfuls, 'How's the anger management going? Are you holding up ok?'

'Yeah, I've found it better at work now that I can hold onto my temper a little more, but, I still want Alphonse to stay with you for a little while longer, just until I'm sure I won't break out like I did.'

'You should be fine, you seem good now.'

'But for how long? I can still be unstable, and sometimes over the smallest things. If Al moves back in, then I don't know how long it will be before I start shouting again.' Alex took a sip from his coffee, his lips retracted from the heat. 'Anyway, how is Al? I hope he hasn't been a problem for you.' Edward stayed silent, slowly chewing at his mouthful of sandwich, trying to avoid what he might have to say, though knowing it was right to.

'Alex? I think you need to know something about Al, but I don't want you to get mad over it.' Edward finally extracted.

'I'll be fine, Ed. Just tell me; I can take it.'

'I-It happened yesterday. H-He jus-… I think he still loves me.' Edward finally sighed, deciding to let it out over bottling it in.

'What? Are you sure?' Alex's face fell into a deep seriousness.

'Alex, he kissed me right after he confessed. I couldn't be surer of it.'

'Please don't be making this up; I don't think a joke like that is funny.' Alex's eyes glowered, his mood was turning; maybe too quickly.

'Pesha even saw what happened. I can even get him to tell you if you want.' Edward faced him with sterner eyes, to make sure that there was no hint of mirth in this truth, as he was telling a downright lie.

'W-What did he say, before?'

'He said that getting away from you was sort of a relief for him, and he said that he's in a place he wants to be; in a place that he knows.' Edward paused, 'He said that here there's a person he loves, and that he's always loved…'

'And then he kissed you.' Edward nodded and Alex sighed, all the breath just seemed to have been knocked out of him. He leaned on his hands, letting them support his head. His breathing heaved with difficulty, and it sounded like he might be crying. Taking a sympathetic sip from his coffee, Edward didn't utter a word, letting silence be the best cure for this, if nothing else. Alex wiped his face, trying to stop the redness in his eyes and cheeks from showing.

'S-Sorry, I-I shouldn't be crying.'

'No, you have every right to.'

'J-Just, how's th-the err…investigation going; the one for Hughes and your mom?'

'That case is cursed.' Edward said finally. 'All the investigators who have taken it on have been killed, and some of their work destroyed. It's slowing us down, but I feel like we're getting closer each time.' He took another sip from his coffee. 'I went to see Falman earlier, after my phone call with you. He was able to find out the imprint on the bullet that was used to kill Lieuten- I mean, Brigadier General Watson. Someone's been stealing my bullets and using them. Someone's framing me, and who ever it is must have some serious grudge against me to want to carry this on again and again.' He placed his cup back on the table, sighing heavily.

'I-It's just not our year really, is it?' Alex said, 'There's just someone out there who keeps fucking and will keep fucking us over until we're nothing but specks of dust once they've stopped grinding us into the ground. That's all there is too it.'

'Now we just need to work out how the wind will catch us, and blow us towards something better.' Edward smiled hopefully at him, and with that, Alex checked his watch.

'I'm sorry to have to go, but my lunch breaks over.' Alex got up from his seat, leaving the rest of his lunch on the porcelain plate.

'So what are you going to do, about this relationship between you and Al?'

'I'll be fine,' He smiled, his face catching in a cold breeze of wind. He turned towards the hospital, and the wind picked up its gust and blew up behind him. 'I'm sick of being grinded under Alphonse's heel. The wind is blowing me to something better.' He walked away, and let the wind speed up his pace with its strength.

There seemed to be something new in his pace of his, and Edward could see it clearly, like in every time he and Bryony went for walks sometimes in the park. There was something jovial about his pace, and there was nothing that could slow him down in this new goal.

So, you're going to swap the position, and grind him under your heel? Edward sighed, and drank up the last of his coffee, gagging when he forgot how hot it was.

I'm sorry Al, but I had to tell him.