I hope this is still in character. If not, well I can't think of anything better :(

Chapter 9

A waiting car

Edward sat on the couch staring at the colonel, but without really looking at him. His eyes didn't follow Mustang's movements, didn't change focus when the colonel came closer or backed off, and didn't show any sign that their owner was responsive to the world. His ears were deaf to every word, every change in tone, even silence made no difference. His nose only smelled the smoky scent of the coat he was clutching tightly, and his skin just felt its rough fabric. His mouth emitted no sound and merely tasted bitter. The only thought running through his usually bright and alert mind was a monotone mantra along the lines of:

It will be over soon, just wait a little longer.

That was until the fire flashed around him. He didn't know how long he had just been sitting there happily in his little bubble of numbness, but suddenly there were raging flames around him, threatening to bite into his skin. They were extinguished before they could get a single taste of his flesh, but they still caused his instincts to take over, sending his body into an alert state. His eyes were forced to regain focus. The colonel mercilessly used the moment to catch Edward's eye. He lifted his gloved hand, a wordless threat that another flame would come if Ed dared to avert his gaze.

So Ed kept his eyes locked on Mustang's face. He knew the colonel would sooner or later realise that he was still drowning out his voice, but with the shock spell of the fire gone for now, he didn't really care. Actually, now that he was obliged to look at Mustang's face, he found it was rather interesting, much more interesting than the words that were being spoken.

Mustang was known for keeping his facial expression under control very well. He wouldn't drop his mask unless he was with people he trusted and was really comfortable around, or unless he was caught off guard. Edward used to get really pissed when the man seemingly effortlessly kept his face the way he wanted it, only showing that Ed annoyed him or amused him in any way, but always only when it could not be used against him later. At some point the boy had come to the conclusion that maybe the colonel just didn't know how to shift his expression to anything else than his basic faces any more.

Now though, when he had no choice but to look and wasn't distracted with what Mustang said and how, or was constantly searching the words for hidden or implied short jokes, he could actually see every tiny twitch of every tiny muscle when the colonel restrained them from pulling his face in an expression. Maybe this was the secret of how Hawkeye managed to read him so well.

And because he was so focused on this little movements in the colonel's face, Edward didn't even flinch when another flame was sent his way. He had seen it coming, had seen the minuscule traces of anger and determination that announced it, before the colonel suppressed them. And now he could see the surprise, defeat, helplessness, followed by... nothing.

The boy blinked in confusion when the colonel recovered from his shock about Ed ignoring the fire, calmed down and sat back down on his place on the couch - when had he gotten up?- adopting the same expression Ed probably wore himself. Blank, utterly blank.

He just sat there, observing Ed over his interlaced fingers and staring at him with unfocused eyes. Now that was something Edward should actually be grateful for, because it allowed him to stay in his bubble undisturbed, but it drove him crazy instead. It felt like Mustang was trying to copy him, to absorb Ed in order to understand him. An absurd idea, because there was no way Mustang could extract Edward's thoughts from his skull, but still, he felt more than a little uncomfortable. The colonel was supposed to meticulously scrutinise him with those black eyes of his, not swallow him!

Edward started to fidget and subconsciously play with the coat. He could hear the clock on the wall ticking as the minutes passed by. Hell, he thought he could hear his pocket watch! And Mustang remained quiet, feeding him his own medicine. Did he make the colonel snap? Did Edward Elric cause Roy Mustang to become exasperated with him so much that he had had enough? It made Edward incredibly nervous, because this was just impossible, and it had never been his intention! He didn't want to drive the colonel crazy this way! Mustang was smug and annoying and self righteous, but as much as Ed hated to admit it, he knew that in the end the colonel only had the best intentions and was a good man who didn't deserve to end up in a mental ward because Edward couldn't keep himself together.

The boy opened his mouth, tried to say something. He still didn't know how to explain and voice his feelings, but he needed to get a reaction out of the colonel! He could hear the clock still ticking away the precious minutes, shortening the amount of time left until the end of working hours and until he would have to return to the dorms and leave this extremely disturbing version of Mustang sitting here with hopes that Hawkeye could restore the man to his usual self. But he couldn't just do that! That would be just as worse as hurting the colonel with his automail blade and running away afterwards.

Edward glanced at the clock on the wall briefly, realised that only half an hour was left- just how long had he been ignoring the colonel?- and started sweating. He needed a solution, he needed words, damn it! His breathing increased, his vision blurred, his heart raced and he started feeling light headed, which caused him to sway in his seat. Suddenly, Mustang stood.

"I don't want you to have a panic attack or something," the colonel said calmly, brushing none existent dust from his uniform. "And I need time to think. We'll continue this tomorrow. Now, calm down. I'll give you a ride to the dorms in half an hour. I won't be able to finish my paperwork for today anyway."

Mustang left the private office, and Ed followed him with his gaze. Once the door shut, he pulled his legs up on the couch and forced his body to relax, even though his mind remained pure chaos.

Don't think about all of it at the same time; don't think about all of it at the same time...

After a while, he managed to accumulate his thoughts and realised that, because Mustang had snapped out of it, there was no reason for him to panic anymore and, finally, the stress started to slowly but steadily subside. He loosened his grip on the black coat that was still in his lap, and absent-mindedly checked the fabric for damage from his automail hand. Luckily there was none. This somehow calmed him down completely.

He managed to stand without shaking, and even gave the colonel back his coat when Mustang held out his hand for it. The older alchemist sounded like his usual self again, and was planning his schedule for tomorrow with Hawkeye as they walked through the hallways of Central HQ. Ed could see some other soldiers around them stare, whisper, and even snicker when they recognised him. He chose to merely glare at them. The only soldiers whose opinion he would care about at the moment were Hawkeye and Mustang, so he didn't feel bad in the least when he scared the others away with his good ol' 'I'm pissed' look. It actually felt rather nice, nostalgic even, and helped him regain a bit of his lost confidence for a while.

It was raining outside, but they reached one of the black military cars rather quickly. Hawkeye sat in the driver's seat and Mustang in the back seat, leaving Edward to follow his example. He watched the raindrops hit the window and admired the way they built small rivers on the pane when Hawkeye started driving.

The ride was silent and felt like forever, even though the way was actually rather short; a matter of five minutes on a good day. But the rain slowed the traffic, for nobody could see very far, and there were more cars filling the streets than on a sunny day. Pedestrians forced drivers to hit the brakes at least once a minute, since they didn't care where they crossed the streets, as long as it allowed them to get to their dry and warm homes faster. A lost umbrella was blown in their way when the wind picked up and gave an ugly scratching sound as it slid over the car's roof. Edward huddled in his seat, trying his best not to let the bad weather pull him down in his despair even more.

At last, the car parked at the curb in front of the dorms. Mustang nudged Edward with something, and the surprised alchemist turned to find the colonel offering him an umbrella, something that surprised him even more. Hesitantly, but with a small and grateful smile, he took it and turned to the car door. He stared out of the window at the façade of the dorms with dread and gulped. His hands closed around the umbrella tightly.

He didn't want to go back there, didn't want to stay in that horribly familiar room that reminded him of so many things that still hurt too much to think about. He wanted someone with him, to be distracted and to have a chance to become stable and self confident again before facing the past. Edward looked back down at the umbrella and his vision blurred.

"Don't...I don't want to leave the car..." he whispered, trying to chase his courage out of its hideout and make use of it. He had just managed to gather his biggest problems in a few sentences, so he just needed to tell them now, before everything became complicated again. The umbrella made a cracking sound when he clutched it even tighter. Now or never!

"It...I can't...can't sleep there because...it reminds me of...of Al, and it's too quiet and I...I'm alone but I don't want to, I can't...can't do this, it's...too much of...I hate that room!" he blurted out quickly and squeezed his eyes shut.

Then, Edward held his breath, waiting. He hoped he had managed to make his point, hoped he had used sentences that were coherent enough to understand and, most of all, hoped that Mustang would have a solution to the problem. His lungs had just started to hurt and crave oxygen when finally the tense silence was broken.

"Fix the umbrella."

Edward's head snapped up, and he stared at the colonel with wide, baffled eyes. How could Mustang even think about that damned umbrella right now? Didn't he understand–

"Then, go get your things."

The boy blinked in surprise. Mustang wasn't even looking at him. He had his arms folded in front of his chest and stared at the back of Hawkeye's seat, but the slightly defensive look on his face told Ed that he hadn't imagined the colonel's words. It was a face Mustang pulled when he made a decision and didn't want to be questioned about it. Edward glanced at Hawkeye in the rear-view mirror. She was looking out of the windshield, politely staying out of their business, though Ed could tell that she would start a serious conversation with the colonel the moment he was out of the car.

The young alchemist hesitantly clapped his hands and mended the umbrella. He opened the door, the umbrella ensuing, and made to leave the car, only to halt before he was completely out of the vehicle. What if this was just a trick, what if –

"Don't worry; we won't drive away," Mustang assured calmly, glancing at Ed and nodding for him to go in an encouraging way. "This car will stay right here until you're back in your seat."

Ed bit his lip and locked gazes with Mustang, silently telling the colonel that if he broke this promise, he would never be trusted again. When Mustang didn't back down, Ed turned and left the car. His heart was beating faster than ever as he walked over to the building, anticipating the horrible sound of the awakening engine.

The moment the front door closed behind him, he knew that if they drove away now, he wouldn't be able to hear it any more. This insecurity made adrenaline rush through his veins and he dashed through the hallways, taking two steps at a time as he ascended the stairs until he reached his room. He panicked when he dropped the key in his haste, but finally he managed to open the door. Within a blink he was standing by the small window.

The car was still there.

Ed grabbed the few things he had unpacked and stuffed them in his suitcase. One last glance to make sure he had everything, and the next second he was racing through the hallways again. He forcefully stopped himself when he reached the last corner before the front door. His hectic heartbeat was loud in his ears as he walked the last steps towards the door and threw it open.

And there, right at the curb still parked the black car, lights on so no one would hit it, and the only sound coming from it being the rain drumming its melody on the roof and hood. The engine remained lifeless until he had his suitcase in the trunk and was back in his seat. Only then did he hear the purring sound of the awakening machine.

"I'm guessing you don't want to go to Gracia and Elysia?" The colonel didn't say the Hughes' place and Ed could understand why. Saying the name would only remind them even more that The Hughes wasn't with them anymore. The boy shook his head.

"A hotel?"

Another shake of the head.

A moment of silence, pondering options, and making sure the decision was meant.

"Hawkeye, my place, please."

"Sir."

The car started moving and Edward watched as the dorms vanished behind them. Then, he turned and handed the umbrella back to Mustang.

"Thank you," he said softly.

"You're welcome," was the calm answer.

Neither of them was talking about the umbrella.