If having to talk about his self harming with Roy, Al, and Envy was hard, it was nothing compared to having to tell a stranger about all his problems.

Edward sat in a squeaky leather chair, facing the psychiatrist. He was old, but not elderly. He seemed kind, but did not smile. His name was Dr. Bandeau.

"Mr. Elric," he murmured. Perhaps Ed was just nervous, but already, just in saying his name, Dr. Bandeau seemed to be invasive, his voice probing. "First of all, how are you doing?"

Rather self-consciously, Edward stroked his newest bandage, the one on his upper arm. Now that he wasn't in the moment, it hurt quite a bit, despite the pain medication he had been given upon waking up. After all, he had literally carved a divot into his arm. "I'm fine," he whispered.

"Mr. Elric—may I call you Edward? Edward, you don't have to play tough."

"I'm not trying to play tough!" Ed half-glared at the man, frowning. "I just don't know what to tell you! I'm not going to be that woe-is-me person who goes around bemoaning how much it hurts. I did this, I knew it was going to be a pain in my ass later, but I did it anyway because I needed to, and I'll deal with the consequences."

Dr. Bandeau stared at him, and Edward saw a twinge of sadness in the man's brown eyes. "I didn't mean to imply that you should milk the situation for attention. I'm just trying to explain to you that you don't need to sugarcoat it either. What you just told me, that was the truth."

Ed bit his lip, nodded. He hadn't meant to snap at the man, he was just…scared. He didn't know Dr. Bandeau, and honestly, the thought of telling a stranger how weak he had become was repellant. He rubbed absently at the bandages on his wrist.

"You're distressed," the doctor noted.

"Well, yeah. It's kind of been a permanent state lately."

Dr. Bandeau stood, circled round his desk to watch Ed. His rubbing increased. "You know, Edward, that's what we really need to talk about. Of course, we want to help you, and usually we might take this a little slower, but…your situation seems extreme. For you to be so resourceful as to use your hands, even to tear off a doorknob...I need to know why you self harm."

"I know," Edward sighed. "I hate explaining this part."

"Why?"

"Because I know it's stupid, in a way. And I hadn't had to explain until I was caught, and I wish that hadn't happened."

"If you hadn't been caught," the man said slowly, leaning forward. "You might not be here. You might have died. Would that be a better alternative?"

"I don't know."

Silence filled the office, and Ed began to pull at the edges of the gauze, uncomfortable under the psychiatrist's scrutiny.

"Edward, I don't want to be rude, but if you can't stop, I'm going to have to restrain your arms."

Ed flushed, and sat on his hands. Immediately the desire to have them back on his skin, in his skin, tearing at muscle and blood filled him. He started shaking.

"You're first response to stress is now to cut," the doctor noted. "Please, you haven't answered my question. What is the source of this depression?"

"I hate myself, but not for the usual reasons," Edward whispered. "I don't have a problem with how I look, or who I am…for the most part. See, I'm…I'm in love with this…guy." He stopped. Every time, he got stuck there. After all, Envy wasn't exactly human. It felt strange to call him a "guy" and that was a whole separate issue.

Dr. Bandeau evidently thought he was finished. "So you're upset because you find yourself having homosexual thoughts?"

Ed shook his head. "No, not at all. That doesn't bother me. Who cares, right? It's just different parts a person has. No, it's…this person—"

"Shall we give him a name? You can make one up, if you don't want to tell me."

"No, that's okay. His name's Envy."

"That's an unusual name," Dr. Bandeau remarked.

Edward snorted. "He's an unusual person. And…he's a murderer. He enjoys it, loves to see other people in pain. He once started a war, literally, and when he told me, he was…ecstatic about it." His hands were digging into the leather seat beneath him as he tried to, if not stop, at least redirect his harmful tendencies. "What kind of person does that make me, if I fall in love with someone like that?"

"I would say a compassionate one. Someone with an astounding ability to care. I admire that, Edward."

Ed furrowed his brow. "Are you kidding?"

For the first time, Dr. Bandeau smiled. "I don't joke around with patients."

"You're proud of me for loving a homicidal maniac?"

"Yes. Because it is something not everyone can do. That's something that takes real heart, Edward."

Ed found this hard to accept. Surely, if he loved Envy, he was just as horrible?

The doctor watched his emotions flash across his face. "Edward, just because you love a person does not mean you condone their actions. Do you approve of what he's done?"

"No!"

"Then you are not a bad person. Do you want to change him?"

Edward considered this. "Yeah, I do. I want to change him, but…more for selfish reasons that anything. I don't think he can be changed, but…I want him to be able to love me, too."

The psychiatrist nodded. "This is a reasonable reaction. But see, you want to fix this man, Envy, you don't want to accept what he has done. You are not at fault."

Ed had never thought about it that way. That he could love Envy but still hate what he did… "But Envy is his actions, isn't he?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not. It varies based upon the person. I find that usually, there is much more to a person than what actions they take." The doctor paused. "Tell me, when was the last time you saw Envy?"

"Last night." In response to Dr. Bandeau's shocked face, Edward elaborated. "My…old boss brought him in after the first night I stayed here. He thought it would help me, to see him…he's stayed ever since."

"Then, I have a question for you. What have his latest actions been?"

"Well," Ed spoke slowly. "When he first came here, he stayed with me when I asked him to. And he made up this silly game, trying to make me feel better about myself—he doesn't know how I feel about him, so he thought it was something else about me. And I guess it helped, a little…" he trailed off, a faint smile on his face at the memory. "And he went for a walk in the courtyard with me and my brother. He…he's been around when I start, you know, trying to use my fingers. And he stopped me."

"Anything else?" Dr. Bandeau asked, after a pregnant pause.

Yes, there was something else. What Envy had said the night before, why Ed had ended up taking a chunk out of his arm.

"Yeah," Edward whispered. "Last night, he told my old boss—Colonel Mustang—that he didn't care about me. And…that's why I did what I did to my arm. But…afterwards, he came to me, and—" Ed couldn't suppress a blush. "—held me and said that he didn't mean it, and that he was sorry."

"And?" the doctor inquired. "Have you forgiven him?"

Ed looked down at his lap, letting his bangs hide his face. "I mean, I guess. It's…it's who he is, to say shit like that just to get out of a situation. And he apologized, but…it still hurts…"

Dr. Bandeau moved on. "Edward, if you considered only his most recent actions, would you say Envy is a bad person?"

"No," Ed admitted. "A bit of a jerk, maybe, or maybe just…someone who doesn't always think. But not a bad person."

He looked up at the doctor to see him smiling, really smiling, eyes twinkling. "I think you're buried too much in the past. It seems to me that you're already changing Envy, and that he cares about you a great deal…even if he doesn't know it yet."