As soon as he had stepped into the room, Roy could feel the hatred and feelings of betrayal emanating from the young blond. And where their eyes locked, he was met with a raging inferno embedded in Edward's glare.

When he had registered who had just entered the room, Edward attempted to surge forward out of his seat. The two soldiers standing at either side of him quickly put an end to his movement by pushing his shoulders down and forcing him into the chair. Probably realizing he would not be allowed up, he focused his seething glare on the General. "You lying son of a bitch," he spat venomously as he narrowed his piercing eyes.

Ignoring the brutal barrage of words the boy sent toward him, Roy's eyes wandered over to his younger, quieter brother. He noticed Alphonse was seated in a wheelchair; his head hung low and his hands folded in his lap. For a moment his eyes lingered on the young boy, but he never once looked up, instead lowering it further as the bombardment of insults from his brother continued.

Training his eyes back to Edward, he stopped and held his gaze when the boy slammed his fists on the chair's arms and snarled, "You didn't even have the decency to tell me outright, huh?! That-that she-"

"That's enough, Edward," Roy shot back as he tightened his glare, stopping the boy mid-tirade.

Edward was about to fire back when he clenched his jaw shut. Turning his head away, he looked toward the ground in disgust, his form quaking with rage.

Looking up at the two soldiers present on either side of the boy, Roy addressed them hardly. "You two are excused. Go and wait outside until I permit you to reenter."

The two men cast wary glances toward Roy; their eyes then slowly scanning down to the furious young boy seated between them.

Frowning at their reluctance, Roy snapped, "That's an order."

Hesitantly they pulled their hands off of Edward's shoulders and took a step away. He watched as they then silently saluted and turned away, pulling open and closing the massive steel door behind them.

As soon as he made up his mind what he was going to say, Roy looked to Edward, whom was still seated. Even from where he was standing, he could still feel the raw emotions of bitterness, distrust, and resentment that hung in the air around him. Words would not be enough for the boy.

"Get up," Roy commanded the young blond.

Looking up, narrowing his golden eyes and bearing his teeth, Edward spat, "I'm not listening to anything youhave to say."

Without another word, Roy strode over to the boy and grabbed his right wrist. With one forceful yank he pulled the boy to his feet and began to tow the resistant young blond toward the cabinet-like doors that lined the wall.

Edward responded by trying fruitlessly to jerk his arm away. When the older man's grip proved to be iron-tight, he reached up and dug the nails of his other hand into Roy's arm and began tugging again. "What are you doing," he snarled as he fought against his grip.

Ignoring the pain radiating throughout his arm, Roy gave the boy's arm one final snap, nearly throwing Edward off his balance. Dropping it, he fished Dr. Knox's keys from his pocket and began flipping through them until he found one that matched. Reaching up, he inserted the key into the padlock on the drawer with Riza's name on it and turned it, popping it open.

"What are you-" Edward began to demand as he began to back away, his golden eyes now widened in horror.

"Words won't be enough for you, Edward," Roy responded levelly as the padlock clattered to the cement floor. "So it's best to show you." Grabbing the handle of the door, Roy threw it open and reached in, pulling out the steel table that was inside. "Tell me, do you see anything," he asked as he turned to face the blond.

He watched as Edward's eyes went from the empty table back up to Roy, then back to the table again. For a moment he said nothing as he took one step forward, then another, until he was a few feet from the General. Scanning his face, Roy saw it contort in confusion, then disbelief, and finally realization. "I… don't see anything," he started slowly as he focused his dazed glance on the General.

The hatred and rage that he had felt toward Mustang had almost been unbearable.

Seeing the emotionless expression on the Flame Alchemist's face, however, was what set him over the edge.

How could he stand there before him and not express any emotion whatsoever? His dearest subordinate, the woman he loved, was dead and he didn't even bat an eye. How could he stand in the same room where she laid without showing anything?

Did he even have a heart? Did he even really care?

It was as if Edward himself had shouldered the man's sadness and rage for him. Someone obviously had to…

It took everything he had not to try and fight off the two soldiers that held him down and beat the daylights out of the black-haired man. He had trusted Mustang… and the he let him down…

Edward wouldn't listen to him. Why should he? What did he have to say to turn this all around?

There was nothing that could be said to him to make him feel any better; because once again he had been too late.

Too late in returning to her in Ishval.

Too late getting to the hospital.

Maybe he shouldn't have told Mrs. Hughes to go the way she did. He was sure that there was a faster way to the hospital. If he had been faster, better… This wouldn't have happened.

And now he held the burden because Roy Mustang certainly wasn't.

And it was excruciatingly heavy.

After he had snarled a reply to the dark-haired man, Edward was both surprised and appalled when Mustang grabbed him and began dragging him toward the freezer.

Hadn't enough happened? What more was there to prove?!

He fought and struggled, but Mustang knew that his right arm was still considerably weaker than his left, and his grip was unshakable.

Edward's surprise turned to horror when Mustang let him go and opened the drawer. He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the inevitable sight he would see… Until he heard Mustang say, "Tell me, do you see anything?"

With that he willed his eyes to open, and forced them to look at the… empty table.

There was nothing inside.

Hawkeye wasn't there…

It was completely empty.

"I… don't see anything," he murmured as he took a final step forward and finally looked at Mustang, finally seeing him.

He hadn't noticed it before, but the man's face looked worn and pained. He had circles under his dark eyes and a semi-permanent frown on his face. Had he honestly looked like that the entire time? Had Edward been too focused on what he was feeling without even truly seeing Mustang?

"Exactly," Roy finally answered wearily as he pushed the drawer back in and closed the door. "I know what it looks like Edward, but please understand that I told you what I did in order to protect the both of you."

"Protect the both of us," Edward quietly echoed back as he began to accept what he had begun to piece together in his mind. "Then that means…"

"Yes," Mustang answered. "But again, I don't want to dwell here." Turning his attention toward Dr. Marcoh, Edward say Mustang shoot the doctor a silent question.

Marcoh appeared to answer it with a solemn nod.

"So," Mustang said as he focused back on Edward, "I want to show you so that you can see for yourself. After all, you've always seemed to be a visual learner."

Disregarding the pathetic attempt at lightening the situation, Edward watched the man for any hidden meanings in his words, but he could not find any.

Seemingly sensing the boy's wariness, Mustang asked, "Do you trust me?"

Edward pondered it for a moment. His words seemed true and his actions reflected what he should feel if they really were true.

Should he trust him? Maybe…

Still, he could not ignore the fact that the man's face changed when he seemingly laid everything on the table; because now there seemed to be a certain… brightness to his face; though it was miniscule.

Should he trust him…?

Nodding his head slowly, his eyes meeting the Flame Alchemist's, Edward finally replied, "Yes."

The car ride to wherever they were going seemed to take forever, though later Edward had realized that it was only a fifteen minute drive.

Perhaps it was because the awkward silence that dragged out between every conversation between Al and the General seemed too long.

Or maybe it was because Mustang had tried to fill them in with a few more details and realized Edward wasn't completely listening, even though he should have… Because now his mind was racing.

Mustang told them that she was alive. And now he was going to see her.

He should be happy and relieved. But why wasn't he?

Was it because deep down he could feel the overwhelming sense of guilt he had before had begun to resurface? Or the fact that he didn't even know what to say?

Despite getting what he had wanted, to make sure everything was okay, he wasn't entirely thrilled to see Hawkeye face-to-face yet.

The thoughts began swirling in his head again. Did she hate him? Would she not even want to see him, citing his carelessness and lack of concern as the reason? It was slowly beginning to push to the surface, making his stomach churn with uneasiness.

Suddenly he was pulled from his thoughts when he felt the car stutter and stop. Looking up, he realized that they were in front of Dr. Knox's house.

Slowly he opened the door and moved mechanically to the front, where he helped Al slide out of the front seat. Taking his time, he followed after Mustang with Alphonse's arm draped over his shoulders, taking extra care in making sure his younger brother got up the steps alright.

Once inside, the doctor swooped in and took over for him, cautiously ushering Alphonse to the tiny living room where he spent a majority of his time, leaving Edward and Mustang in the kitchen.

Edward was about to follow behind when a firm grip on his shoulder stopped him. Whirling around, he saw Mustang eyeing him with expectation. Feeling the nervousness pooling in his gut, Edward realized that it was now or never. With a slight nod he signaled to the older man that he was ready.

Turning on his heels, Mustang raised a hand, beckoning for him to follow.

Stepping lightly behind him, Edward turned his gaze downward and obliged, trailing behind the black-haired man as he made his way slowly up the stairs.

Stopping in front of the last door to the left in the upstairs hallway, he watched as Mustang raised his fist and lightly rasped on the door. Edward swallowed hard as the guilt and doubt began to consume him, reluctantly followed Mustang as he opened the door and entered the room.

After a hearing a light knock, Riza confirmed that one of the voices she had heard downstairs was indeed Roy's. What she didn't expect, however, was that when he would come up, a young familiar blond would follow him in, whose eyes firmly fixed on the floor.

She watched as Roy ushered him in, but as he himself was about to follow Edward inside, Dr. Knox appeared behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear. After nodding, he turned back toward her and raised his brows and opened his mouth, as if to speak. Then, however, he shut it, instead casting her a look of uncertainty.

She nodded toward him and shot him a small smile in response, dismissing him. Obviously that wasn't what he wanted, because he bit his lower lip in contemplation, trying to decide whether or not he'd follow through with Dr. Knox's request. However, the hardened glance she answered him with insisted that he go.

Riza watched as he reluctantly raised his hand to tap Edward's shoulder, forcing the boy to lift his head. He murmured something to the boy, which resulted in a look of panic to reflect in his golden eyes. Edward attempted to step in the direction that Roy was heading, but was effectively blocked by the older man. After that Roy closed the door, leaving Edward and her alone.

"Hello Edward," she said as she tilted her head slightly and smiled. Now she could see for herself that he was okay. Roy told her that Edward was stopping by when that… man had gotten to her, resulting in a tussle between the two.

She was where she was now because of him.

Barely raising his eyes to her, he murmured a meek "Hi" back.

That was… unusual. "Why don't you come and sit down," she asked as she motioned to the chair that Roy had usually occupied.

The youth complied, though he tried to look anywhere but ather. When he seated himself, he stared downward, nervously clutching at the cloth of his pant legs. After a few moments passed, he said nothing, the anxious air about him becoming thicker by the second.

His reaction to her condition was not what she expected. Edward had been around plenty of wounded and ill before and never batted an eye, talking to them in an attempt at normalcy. Now he was acting completely out of character to his norm. After the silence continued to stretch for a whole minute, she finally decided that that was enough. Clearing her throat, she said, "Edward…"

In response he mumbled something unintelligible and hushed while he continued to look away.

Still at a loss for his behavior, she asked him what he had said. What he had responded by, however, was not what she had expected.

"I'm sorry…" he murmured as he raised his head slightly, though he kept his eyes cast downward.

Sorry? Now she was really confused. What would he have to be sorry about? "Edward, I don't understand-"

"It's because of me that all of this happened," he blurted as he clenched already ghostly white fists tighter. "If I had just listened to orders and stayed with you like I was supposed to, then this wouldn't have happened and you'd be in Ishval and-"

She watched with bewilderment as the boy continued to chastise himself, citing his guilt and responsibility for what had happened as he listed off every instance he could.

That was why he wouldn't look her in the eye. He blamed himself for what had happened to her….

Once she managed to find her voice, Riza said, "Edward…"

He either didn't hear her or didn't heed her subtle request that he stop, instead continuing with his self-berating.

"Edward…"

He continued on, his eyes still fixated on the floor. "You have every right to hate me and-"

"Edward," she shouted forcibly in a third attempt for him to stop.

He flinched at the sound of her all-to-familiar "military voice" and stopped, but kept his eyes focused on his lap.

Reaching out, she used her index and middle fingers to guide his chin upward until his golden eyes met her softened mahogany ones. Keeping them there as support, she calmly asked, "Why are you saying this," as her eyes searched his face. She could see the shame painted across it. He truly believed what he was saying… "You don't honestly believe that-"

"I-I do," he choked out as his face fell. "If I hadn't-"

"If you hadn't left, you wouldn't be here," Riza replied softly. She had his undivided attention now.

His face mixed with confusion and disbelief. As he opened his mouth in rebuttal, she stopped him. "Edward, you cannot feel responsible for this. Please believe me when I say that things worked out for the better. It may not seem like it, but it's true."

She watched as the pain and guilt seemed to slowly leave his face, his golden eyes becoming slightly brighter. Feeling herself smile, she continued, "I don't want you to think that any of this has to do with you, Edward. And if I should feel anything toward you," she added, "It's gratitude.

"The General has told me about some of the things you have done to help him and me. Things that I would never expect you to do unless it was of your own volition." Watching the last remaining signs of self-loathing wash away, she continued lightly, "You have done more for us than you give yourself credit for. You have done more than you know."

Reaching up, she pressed her hand lightly against his cheek in a comforting gesture. She had done it only once before and knew that the boy hated it, but she needed to get the point across somehow.* "I don't blame you. I never did, Edward. You need to believe that is true."

Much to her surprise he leaned into it slightly in acceptance. And for the first time during their brief interaction, he finally looked her fully in the eye, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

That was more like the Edward she knew.

"Are you feeling better," she asked as she pulled her hand away and rested it on her lap.

"Yeah," he replied sheepishly as he sat back up. However, when he straightened himself out, he winced and clutched his side. From there, a different type of pain spread across his face.

"Edward?"

"It's-it's nothing," he said as he tried his best to smile at her. "My side just hasn't fully healed yet is all."

His side?

No doubt seeing the blatant confusion on her face, he shrugged and said, "Dr. Marcoh said I could have the stitches out by next week. It really isn't that bad, actually. The knife didn't hit anything vital."

What…? This was the first time she was hearing about this. Stitches? Knife? Nothing vital? Trying her best to keep her voice calm and collected, she stated, "Edward, I don't think I'm following. What exactly-" She was cut off when Roy opened the door and walked in. As Edward turned around to see who it was, the softened-turned-hard expression immediately went to the General.

He had a lot of explaining to do.

After Mustang had walked in and interrupted their conversation, Hawkeye had asked him to give them a few minutes alone. Edward eagerly obliged; it didn't take a genius to realize that Mustang hadn't told her about what had happened to him. He knew that the General probably didn't want her to stress about it, but it was still something that she needed to hear eventually. Looking back, it probably wasn't the best to mention it himself.

As he eased his way slowly down the stairs, Edward couldn't help but feel lighter.

She didn't blame him for what had happened. And even though Hawkeye could be incredibly hard to read at times, Edward had discovered long ago that her eyes were what gave her emotions away. So when he finally did look her square in the eye, he saw only reassurance and honestly.

She said it wasn't his fault…

Limping through the kitchen and into the living room, Edward slowly sank onto the couch next to Al, whom was watching him anxiously. When he had settled himself, Al asked, "How is she doing?"

"Good," Edward murmured as he smiled lightly. "The Lieutenant is doing really well."

"I wouldn't call her 'Lieutenant' for much longer," Dr. Knox mumbled from his corner chair. "She isn't exactly military anymore if she's considered dead."

"What," the brothers both asked in simultaneous disbelief.

The doctor shrugged off their surprise. "Since I declared her dead, her military papers will be marked as 'deceased.' In reality, it's no different than the Maria Ross case.

"Of course, knowing Hawkeye and her connections in the military, she'll fight it with everything she's got. Hell, the General was just telling me that she was already talking about automail."

"Automail," Edward echoed as he absently rubbed the kneecap of his metal leg. Feeling his brother's eyes on him, he turned to Al; his younger brother's eyes reflecting his thoughts.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking," the younger Elric slowly asked.

"Yeah," Edward replied as he felt a determined grin form on his face. "I think it's time we called in a favor from my mechanic."

A/N: That was a fun chapter to write, although I hope I did the characters justice! I also hope that I paced it well. I really didn't want to stretch this between chapters. But if anyone seemed OOC or if it seemed rushed definitely let me know.