He was coming home for Christmas.
Roy mustang sat in his office fidgeting every 5 seconds like an excited 3 year old, occasionally shooting glances at Hawkeye, wondering if she would let him leave work early. Working out whether he had time to buy Edwards another present.
Then phone rang. Roy's mind was already mentally preparing a list of excuses as to why he couldn't talk to Hughes. When he remembered. It can't be Hughes; Hughes is dead.
Hawkeye (realising he had tuned out) picked up the phone for him.
"Yes, yes, right away sir, I'll tell him"
She looked over to Roy,
"Sir there's been an accident"
Roy groaned, not now, I'll missing picking him up from the train station, and then I'll have to deal with a pissed of midget. Not a prospect I relish.
"Sir, it Edwards train… it crashed"
The words took a moment to sink in. When they did Roy fainted.
It had been 2 days, 2 whole days; Roy thought he would go mad. The site of the crash was a mess. Bodies and wreckage were strewed everywhere. Every time the rescue team dug out another person Roy would rush over, and always get the same response.
"Sorry sir, its not him".
Then finally, after the lamps had been lit so they could keep working in the dark, the call came.
"Sir, we've found him"