Dear Agony
Just let go of me
Suffer slowly
Is this the way it's gotta be?
Don't bury me
Faceless enemy
I'm so sorry
Is this the way it's gotta be?
Dear Agony

Leave me alone
God let me go
I'm blue and cold
Black sky will burn
Love pull me down
Hate lift me up
Just turn around
There's nothing left

Somewhere far beyond this world
I feel nothing anymore

~Dear Agony (Breaking Benjamin)

The next week or so passed in a blur for Edward. It was like the entire world had gone dull, had lost all the joy and light it had ever contained. The once vibrant colours of the world around him had dimmed and gone foggy, like he was looking at it all through water. He barely heard people when they spoke to him, struggling to understand their words through the ringing in his ears that had not gone away. He responded only occasionally, saying words they wanted to hear through a voice hoarse from screaming.

Because nightmares worse than ever before plagued him, ravaging at him through dreams that weren't a far cry from reality. His sleep was broken almost constantly, and it was impossible to count how many times he'd wake up in one night, on the rare occasion that he was actually able to fall asleep at all.

Exhaustion weighed heavy on him, and his steps stumbled as he walked into the Church, clad in a black suit Mustang had had to hire for him. He payed no attention to where he sat, didn't really care. He just followed Mustang, walked where he walked, sat where he sat. Al sat beside him, he noticed vaguely, and he reached out a hand to grip his brother's shoulder and pull him closer. Al needed comfort, the one clear part of his mind told him.

The funeral began, but he couldn't listen.

Couldn't listen as a man who'd never met Maes began telling his life story, those he'd loved, lost, cherished and saved. His heart clenched when Gracia stood up on the small podium, to tell stories of how Maes had adored his family, her, his children. She told them all of how he'd jumped for joy and taken a thousand photos when Elicia was born, and how he'd continued to do so until it got to the point of annoying. She told them all of how he'd grown attached to Ed and Al, and how he'd adopted the youngest and had tried his damnedest to adopt Ed too. She told them all of how Maes had loved the boys like they were his own, and how they'd become his own in that too big heart of his.

Tears were flowing by the time she was finished speaking, and Ed didn't even try to stop them. He just pulled Al closer and did the only thing he knew how to do; look after his little brother.

Mustang stood at some point to tell tales of his friendship with Maes, and Ed's mind warred within him because he couldn't bring himself to listen, but also could not bring himself to ignore the stories of Maes' life, stories Ed had never known about, wished he'd asked about. Tales of who Maes was, before, during and after the war.

Mustang told them of how he'd been at breaking point, ready to just lay down and not get back up, and how Maes hold helped him push through and come back out on top. Ed lost the ability to breathe for a little while, because Maes had done the same for him, too.

At some point the storytelling ended, and Mustang, Havoc, Breda, Armstrong and one of Maes' men Ed had never met picked up the casket that contained Maes' body and took it away. The carried the damn thing from the church all the way to the cemetery, and when the funeral guests had gone and only family and friends remained, they lowered the casket into the ground, into the hole that had been dug specially for Maes. A green rug bearing the military crest had been thrown over the casket at some stage, and shots rang in his ears as Maes' mean fired the Three Volley Salute. At each shot Elicia flinched, and when the dirt was thrown back into the grave she began to scream.

Gracia picked up the little girl, too young to understand what was happening, why her daddy was being buried. Ed tuned out of it all, staring blankly as the hole was filled up, and Maes was buried from the world forever.

Ed was forced to quickly zone back into reality when he felt an insistent tug at his shoulder, and realised that Mustang was telling him it was time to go. To leave. It occurred to Ed that they were now the last two people here. The last of the small crowd that had remained for the burial.

He drew in a shaky breath, and with one last look at the small mound of dirt and the gravestone that was all that was left of Maes Hughes, he followed.

./././.

When they returned home, Ed walked straight up to his room, locked the door and lay down on his bed. Hugging into himself, he pulled in a ragged breath. The world was spinning around him as he fought to keep it together.

He wanted to scream, to scream at the world for taking away the last good thing in his life. For taking away the one person who truly understood him. Without Maes, he had nothing, was nothing. Without Maes there was just...emptiness.

He wished, God he wished, that he had never left the H.Q that day. He wished he'd just reigned in his temper, his pride, and returned to the office to discuss whatever it was that Maes had found. Wished he'd tried even once to make it up to the man who had given him everything.

It was too late now.

Maes was dead, and it was Edward's fault.

The Homunculi probably killed him because he knew too much. If they were watching Ed then they would have been watching Hughes too, would have been listening in when he told them he'd learned how the homunculi ticked, how they operated. So it really was Ed's fault. Completely, entirely.

His fault.

My fault.

The words echoed through his head, and he struggled to draw in breath. Fluids leaked from his eyes, his nose. He couldn't breathe. It was his fault. He had been the reason Maes had been killed.

And what was worse...

"DAMMIT!"

Before he could even register it, he was on his feet, and there was plaster stuck to his hand. He'd punched the wall.

His hand had gone right through it.

A sob tore through him, and a torrent of emotions followed it. Grief, guilt, pain, anger. They'd all been waging in him like a storm for more than a week, but now...anger was the easiest to deal with. He could use anger.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHH!" He screamed, driving his right fist into the wall again, and again, and again. He punched that wall until his arm was shaking and his fist was bleeding and there was a great gaping hole there. His anger and rage and hatred bled from his hand as he dropped to the ground, taking to the floor with his fists instead.

He had done this, this was all his fault.

Maes was gone. Maes had been killed because of Edward's pride and arrogance and he had been cut up and broken and beaten and it was all his fault GODDAMMIT!

Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard footsteps rushing up the staircase, but somehow the noise was muffled. He heard it but didn't. His fist kept flying, hitting the floor with enough force to shatter the boards beneath the carpet, with enough force to break the knuckles that had already been broken weeks ago.

Pain exploded but he pushed it aside in his head, ignoring it. His door opened and he heard Mustang's voice call his name, and when the his caretaker dropped to his knees beside him and put a hand on his shoulder Ed flinched away, bloodied and ruined hand travelling behind him to smack Mustang in the jaw on pure instinct.

Mustang gave no reaction other than a hiss of pain.

An inhuman noise akin to a screech tore from his throat and he twisted away, punching whatever was closest. Ed didn't even know what he'd in his frenzy of anger but dammit he felt his bones crunching and blood flew. He made to punch again but a large hand grabbed his wrist and held firm, and Ed swung around and tried to hit with his other fist but Mustang caught that too, and Ed snarled and looked up and -

stopped.

Tears stained Mustang's face, and new ones were still falling. His eyes were puffy and he looked like he was ready to give up on the world and go on a murderous rampage.

Ed could identify.

There was already a bruise forming from where Ed's fist had connected with his face, and a trickle of blood leaked from his lip. Ed must have hit a tooth.

For a while they just sat there like that, staring at each other, and Ed eventually noticed the self-loathing in Mustang's obsidian eyes. He blamed himself as well.

"It's my fault." He whispered, his head lowering. His gaze set on Mustang's knees and he whispered the words again, the first time he'd admitted it to anyone but himself. "It's my fault they killed him. He only - " Ed hiccuped, and tried again. "He only tried to find out about the homunculi because they attacked me. They were watching me. They heard him say he knew how they worked, what their weaknesses were. So they killed him."

Mustang sucked in a breath through his teeth, the hissing made Ed flinch. "It's all my fault." He repeated.

Silence followed, but then Ed heard Mustang pull in breath to speak. "God Ed, if it's your fault then it's mine too. I'm the one that split us up that day to look for you when you vanished. I should have stayed with him, should have...been there. I could have protected him."

They fell silent once more, and eventually Edward said, "If we're both gonna just wallow here in self pity blaming ourselves, then how about we do something useful with it?"

Mustang looked at him then, really looked at him, and asked. Something started to piece itself back together in him then. Not hope, there was no point when there was nothing he could do to stop Maes' death. But he could avenge him.

"We find the Homunculi, the one named Envy. We find him, and we kill him. Together." Ed gave Mustang a glare to show him that he wasn't going to give up, wasn't going to let this ruin him. They were both left broken from this, but Ed wouldn't let it stay that way. They'd fight it, fight the Homunculi, and avenge the man who had meant the world to both of them. They could do this.

Mustang gave him a fierce stare in response and nodded. "Together." He said. For a moment, Ed thought he saw something like fire light up Mustang's eyes. But then, as if he was battling some physical darkness within him, the fire started to flicker again. "But...not tonight."

Ed leaned back and Mustang let go of his wrists and stood, leaving without a word, not commenting once on the broken wall.

No, not tonight. Tonight he could be broken, one last time.

But tomorrow?

Tomorrow, vengeance.