So many reviews, it just makes me smile the whole day thinking about it. I figured you all would want an update ASAP, so here it is.

Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock

Chapter Ten:

Some Weight Off the Chest

Riza was not in the business of lying to herself; when he had opened the door, Edward looked a wreck. Why did he have to worry so much about how others would react to his perceived failures, to the point that he tore himself up inside?

Roy had been like this once, so afraid to let anyone see his pain; but his pain had been shared amongst all the soldiers of the Ishbalan Campaign, and so he had opened himself up to her, a fellow sufferer and cause of suffering. With the rebuilding of Ishbal, the nightmares and regrets came less frequently, and they didn't need each others comfort so much anymore.

She knew that Edward was experiencing something vastly different from anything she was familiar with, but she was resolved to try and help him. For his sake, and for Van and his family. Something was not right in Resembool.

Edward studied his clasped hands for a long moment, and she dared not make a sound for fear he would withdraw again. "I'm sure Mustang's talked to you all by now, and I don't know what Ling told you when I left."

"He told us that he wanted to talk to you, not gossip about you," she informed him, and saw his eyes widen for just a moment. She honestly hadn't expected such a mature and loyal answer either, but Ling must truly value his friendship with the other.

"Anyway, it's true that Alphonse and I haven't really been speaking much," he confirmed, "but it wasn't about Van. Not at first anyway," he amended, and then removed his hat to rest his head in both hands properly. She waited with practiced patience, this was far too important to rush through.

"I made a mistake." He glanced up then, as if expecting some form of agreement to be displayed upon her face, but she remained impassive. "It was very stupid, and foolish, of me, but I didn't think. I didn't stop to consider I could be wrong."

"About what?" She prompted softly while he hesitated, teetering on the edge of the reveal. His eyes swept the room, looking for some way to say the words that couldn't quite find there way out. His eyes finally lit upon a closed door, and he turned back to her.

"You know in those storybooks how the hero comes home after the battle and lives 'happily ever after' or whatever it is?" She nodded. "Well, what if there's two heroes? How do they decide who gets what at the end? The victor's spoils." Her face remained mostly blank, but behind it, a slow realization was dawning. Edward seemed to simply rise from the chair in a gust of nervousness and agitation, walking around the room in slow paced, measured circles, sounding as though a professor giving a lecture.

"They don't—didn't. Nothing was set in stone. And slowly we drifted apart. He spent his days out in the fields, feeling the grass under his feet, the sun on his skin, everything was new," a warm smile of remembrance graced his features before slipping behind a cloud like the sun he described. Even his eyes seemed duller. "And I would wander around the east, spending days in different inns, before coming back to rest in peaceful Resembool. Everyone wanted the Fullmetal Alchemist to visit their town, fix their City Hall, build a barn, you name it. I gladly did it; so full of accomplishment they were easy tasks, and the travel hardly seemed burdensome when it was at my own leisure. I thought perhaps a year or so of that life and it would be over."

"It might seem hard to believe, Hawkeye, but when I signed up for the military I always expected to resign at a young age and return to my home. I really thought I could simply walk away from it all and live an ordinary existence. In hindsight, it really is naive."

"It sounds like a wonderful idea," she told him and he nodded.

"Ever since that first awful sin though, I've just been instilled with—well, I have always been restless, I can see that now. A wanderer, who is never content to just let things lie," he slumped against the wall, needing the support. "I tried so desperately those two years, Hawkeye, I wanted that little life. And I thought I had the perfect solution, something that would keep me grounded there for the rest of my days. But I had no idea Alphonse had the same one. Without knowing it, we were both revolving around the same sun."

"Winry," she said, wishing she wasn't so sure of the answer. His bowed head only confirmed it.

"I had no idea, really. I thought our childhood fight over her was over," he chuckled, but it was humorless. "I'm the best example of Icarus to ever live. One day our little dance around each other ended when I flew in too close, and I got caught with my hand reaching for the cookie jar."

Riza could only imagine the explosion that would have followed, even from Alphonse.

"I underestimated the temper capable of an Elric that day, and got worse than burned. Frankly I was confused and frightened for my life, so I folded, if you will. Left my cards and chips on the table and got the hell out of there."

"And you two haven't spoken since?" She asked, wondering how Alphonse could possibly be that angry for so long.

"Not much," he said, a little evasive, but she was happy to have gotten this much out of him. "He still seems to think the game's still going, and I don't know how to make him understand he won."

"Maybe you need to figure out why he thinks he hasn't won," she suggested, still trying to digest everything. His tired eyes strayed toward the shut door again, but he didn't speak for a long time.

"Thanks," he said finally. "I, I really did need to say that. But, don't worry too much, right?" He somehow managed to feel concerned about her through it all, which left Riza amazed.

"I'll worry as much as I want to, but not too much. Worry doesn't help solve problems, Edward." She offered him a smile and stood. It was getting incredibly late, and they were both expected at work early the next morning. He followed her to the door.

"Thank you," he said again.

"It's not any trouble. Just try and sleep, I'm sure we'll both be spending time with the Emperor and his companions.

"Don't remind me," he grimaced, but some of the usual humor was starting to return.

"Goodnight, Edward."

"Goodnight, Hawkeye."

Yeah, really short, and mostly just Ed monologue-ing, but like I said, I wanted to get this out to you guys. I also figured this might be how it happened because number one, he's super stressed and finally needs to just vent, and number two he has been drinking some which is affecting him more than usual at the time because of his emotional state. Also, Hawkeye is an awesome listener, I'd probably spill my guts to her even if there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. Edward's still holding back some though, and we still have some ways to go. Let me know what you think, and if your ideas were anywhere close, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks for reading, and review!