It was like a pressure cooker that had exploded in their face. It seemed that the entire Drachman army had been unleashed upon the section of Great Hope the Amestrian military had managed to re-take. Now they were forced to relinquish the town once again. All their hard work, all they had managed to gain, all the lives that were lost in the process was for nothing.
Edward had been right feeling it had been too quiet when he finally had taken the gun out. The Drachman line had retreated then circled around to the east nearly surrounding Edward's troop and the battalion that had come up behind him. They had barely managed to retreat without being cutoff from the Great Northern Road. But none of that had seemed to matter to Edward. He didn't know how he managed to get his troop out. How he had managed to issue orders. He couldn't even think straight. All he could see were those dead girl's lifeless eyes, the dead Drachman on the ground and his fresh blood pumping out of his back. He couldn't look anyone in the eye. He couldn't even sleep once they had retreated far enough away to reestablish a new line of defense.
He had placed extra guards but he still felt it wasn't enough. The Drachmans seemed like they were always one step ahead of them. It was a wonder they hadn't managed to take control of the entire country already and he was completely helpless to do anything about it other than to follow his orders. He tried hard not to think bitterly of his own superior officers. He would be doing the very same thing he didn't want his own men to be thinking towards him. He was sure they were doing the best they could but it couldn't be helped to think there was more that could be done. But he also knew that the Amestrian military was being stretched thin. He just hoped they didn't end up getting ripped to pieces.
He was alone once again, sitting, watching, trying very hard not to let his guilt or his unease consume him. He was frustrated by his inexperience. He thought he had seen and done so much. That he could handle anything. That he had already seen hell. But none of that had prepared him for the horrors of war and the things he would end up doing. He had managed to get his troop through the last few battles without too many casualties but he still didn't feel he had earned the respect of his men. It was obvious by the way Brody and Healy had questioned him about continuing without his Lieutenant. Plus, having to retreat from Great Hope and almost losing Havoc the other day hadn't improved his mood and he was still haunted by what he had done. He hadn't meant to shoot that man in the back. He was going to take him as a prisoner. But he had allowed his emotions to take over. It frightened him how suddenly he had aimed and fired. That he was so quick to pass judgment and punish the man. True, they were in the middle of a war but he should have controlled himself and taken the man as a prisoner. But that wouldn't have been enough. The girl deserved some justice. Taking the man as a prisoner, letting him sit out the war with three square meals a day wasn't justice. Equivalent exchange. A life for a life, Edward thought then was immediately disgusted with himself. No, that's not right. Don't go down that path, Edward.
Sergeant Brody approached and gave him a cup of coffee that turned out to be a good strong drink. Edward gulped it down quickly ignoring the questioning and concerned look in the older Sergeant's eyes. He handed the cup back and mumbled a quick 'Thanks' then turned away, not wanting any company. He wanted to be rid of the images in his head of the dead girl and the Drachman he had shot in the back. They gnawed at the inside of his brain and the alcohol helped numb it a bit so he could sleep. He was sitting with his knees pulled to his chest, his head on his arms. It was in that position he finally drifted off to sleep. But after a while the images returned in his dreams and he woke himself before it got worse finding that he was drenched in sweat.
He ended up being ordered back to North City. Havoc and the others that had been affected by the shell were transferred to the military hospital there. Most of them had sustained mild concussions and other various injuries from the shock wave of the shell blast. As a precaution they were on a couple days bed rest and so the rest of Edward's troop was allowed two days of rest as well to await the recovery of their Lieutenant and fellow comrades. Edward took advantage of being away from the responsibilities of commanding a troop. He visited with Havoc, who was not too happy about being stuck in a hospital and the others as well. He could see Havoc looking at him the same way Brody did and tried to keep the conversation light hearted so Havoc wouldn't probe him. He had tried to not look so moody but he was never one to hide his emotions very well. He was very good, however, at making it obvious he didn't want to talk about them.
After his visit he decided to wander around to see what was left of the once-bustling city. It was mostly quiet. The refugees had gone south in anticipation of the Drachmans breaking through the Amestrian line. It hadn't happened but it was better to be out of the way in the eventuality of an invasion upon their fair city. There were some shops open. The practical ones such as bakeries, grocery stores and diners. Flower, gift and clothes shops had been boarded up. No use making it easy for a Drachman army to loot the place. The places that were still open were usually filled with officers and soldiers, about all that was left in North City, with a mixture of brave citizens who didn't want to leave their homes to the mercy of their enemies.
Edward meandered around lost in his thoughts. He happened upon a smoke shop and for the first time in a few days thought of something else other than his guilt. He went in and bought himself his own supply of cigarettes and a lighter. Wanting to maintain his focus on accomplishing such minor tasks he went in search of some gloves. He had left his behind and thought a thicker set would be better for the northern weather. He found a military supply store and found a pair of thick, black, leather gloves. Not able to think of much else to do he took his purchases back to his encampment. It was mostly deserted. The men were on their own excursions through the city, except for a few stragglers. He didn't want to be alone in the encampment so keeping his lighter with him and some cigarettes he went back to the streets of North City.
He hoped to find something to do. Anything to keep his mind occupied. He was mentally worn out from his constant obsessing over his guilt. He came across a noisy tavern. There were mostly soldiers inside playing cards and drinking. He remembered the drink Brody had given him and wanted another for its numbing affect. He wondered if he would even be able to get one since he was only seventeen. But his old cockiness returned when he thought about the fact that he was an officer in the Amestrian military. If he was old enough to be a Lieutenant Colonel than he was definitely old enough to get a drink if he damn well pleased. With a determined air he went in, trying not to look like a kid playing dress up in his father's uniform. He went straight to the bar and ordered a drink. There was an older man tending the bar and he looked Edward up and down. The old man's eyes traveled over the insignia on Edward's uniform and then looked him in the eye. He seemed hesitant, like he didn't believe this young man was an officer, but Edward laid down his money and met the barkeep's eyes. The barkeep seemed to give in to Edward's determined eyes and poured a drink for him. Edward was amazed how easy it was to swallow the fire-hot drink so he ordered another.
"Look, son," the old man said worriedly. "Don't you think you're too young?"
"No," Edward said and put more money on the bar. "If I'm old enough to die for my country than I don't think I'm too young to buy a drink if I want to," he added.
The man sighed and poured him another drink. After Edward polished that one off he asked for the whole bottle. He turned to look around at the room. It was smoky and the noise of conversation and laughter was music to his ears after enduring weeks of rifle fire and explosions. Nearby were some officers and enlisted men engaged in a game of cards. Edward watched for a while and when they finished the hand they were playing, the alcohol he had just drunk made him rather bold and he asked to join. Ignoring the looks of surprise of someone so young with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel he sat in when they agreed to let him sit down.
Edward didn't bother to introduce himself or to find out who the other men were. The two officers were Lieutenants who had been playing cards with a Sergeant and two enlisted men. One of the enlisted men was a big bull of a man who was getting angrier and angrier as the night wore on. He wasn't too happy about losing so much money to an officer. Especially to one that was just a kid. It was a mixture of alcohol, resentment towards the young Lieutenant Colonel and the loss of his cash that loosened his tongue.
Edward had been drinking heavily throughout the night, trying to enjoy the poker game and forget about the last month. He had been feeling moody all day and he needed to take his frustrations out. Drinking and playing cards seemed to help at first and brought back fond memories of cheating his little brother for the hell of it. It was different to be playing with more than one other person but it was easy for Edward to adjust. The other men were not very good and Edward had a good mind for strategizing even if he was numbed down from the alcohol. But as the night continued the fun he was having was slowly diminished as the enlisted man kept mumbling under his breath questioning each hand Edward had won. The man was huge and intimidated Edward at first but after half a bottle of whiskey he no longer seemed so scary.
"Do you have something to say to me?" Edward finally asked as he raked his winnings towards him.
"No sir," the big bull of a man said petulantly, and then under his breath added, "I guess it's easy for a cheat to become an officer."
Edward froze and stared at the soldier dangerously. The conversation at their table stopped suddenly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," Edward said with an edge in his voice, eyeing the man.
"I said I guess it's easy for a cheat to become an officer," the man said louder. Then the noise level in the tavern dropped. He hadn't been that loud but it was the tension that could be felt, as if their soldiers' instincts had alerted them to trouble brewing.
"Do you have a problem losing to me?" Edward demanded.
"I have a problem losing to a cheat."
"Can you prove I cheated?" Edward questioned getting angry but marveling how he was keeping it in check because he had sounded so calm.
"No, but I can prove you don't deserve to be an officer."
"Really," Edward said liking the challenge. He gave the man an evil smile and narrowed his eyes. "Let's see."
Then the man seemed to think better of it. He had seen the pocket watch and Edward was still an officer. Not someone you get away with challenging to a fight.
"No sir, sorry sir," the man said quietly, trying to get out of it.
"Why not? Are you worried about this?" Edward said as he removed the pocket watch then slipped out of his jacket. He placed both on the table before him and stood up.
"Let's pretend that I'm not a State Alchemist or an officer," Edward said wanting the man to take the bait.
"Nice offer," the man said. "But I'd feel bad kicking the shit out of little kid like you."
Edward snapped. He took a swing at the enlisted man but missed. His reflexes were not as quick as they usually were and the man seemed to be anticipating the move. Or just better at holding his liquor than Edward was. The man then took a swing at Edward who ducked just in time and punched the man in the stomach. His punch didn't seem to do much harm to the enlisted man despite having been hit with an automail fist. The man grabbed Edward's arm and threw him into the edge of the bar. Edward winced in pain but had to ignore it as he saw the man's fist coming at him. He dodged it in time but the man caught him and threw him around again. Edward went crashing into the table they had been playing cards at. The other men had long scrambled away but cards and glasses went flying everywhere. Edward rolled off the table quickly and came at the enlisted man. He managed another swing towards the man's face and connected but then received one in return. He fell to the ground and tried to roll away to avoid being kicked in the stomach. But too much alcohol and one too many hits were starting to take a toll on him. He barely managed to roll away but he wasn't fast enough. The enlisted man grabbed a hold of Edward's collar and pinned him down. He gave the Fullmetal Alchemist two swift punches to his stomach then one to the face. The large man's fist was pulled back for another but he didn't follow through.
Edward heard someone yell "This fight is over!" The commotion that had erupted when Edward and the enlisted man had started fighting died suddenly. He thought he recognized the voice but he couldn't tell as he tried to recover his senses. He tried to get up on his own but he was pulled roughly by the arm and practically dragged out of the bar. He looked up to see that it was Havoc and he didn't dare protest his own Lieutenant dragging him around like a rag doll. He was too scared to say anything. He'd never seen Jean with such a wild fury in his usually calm eyes.