Yay! I got more reviews! Thanks again for reading. I wasn't sure how people would like and Au RoyEd like this. This chap is kind of angsty, but I promise Slashy-fun in the next few chaps as well as short jokes. :)

Chapter 5

Ed stretched out languorously, and sighed. He hadn't felt this rested in forever it seemed. For some reason, he had actually managed to get a whole night's sleep. The sun outside the window was bright and the sky was clear blue. It felt strange to look around an unfamiliar room. Ed turned to where Roy had slept the night before, and for some reason felt odd that he wasn't there. He hoped that he hadn't made any noise when he dreamed last night. His nightmares weren't something he wanted the military tight ass to know about.

Throwing off the sheet, Ed scooted over to the edge of the bed. One time, years ago, Ed had tried to take a step out of bed in the middle of the night and landed flat on his face. It seemed bizarre, but his half-asleep mind had forgotten that he didn't have a leg. When Ed looked down at his body now, it didn't seem odd or broken. To him, it was just the way things were. There was nothing left of his right arm except a smooth scar along his shoulder. A spider web of burn scars lined his left hand and wrist from trying to get a hold of Al. Where the beam had fallen on his legs, there was still the seared flesh on the back of his right knee, and just a few inches above, on the left his other leg ended. To any "normal" person looking at Ed, he may seem horribly deformed, but time had kind of changed Ed's idea of normal. He wondered what Roy had been thinking last night and in the morning when he looked at him. Ed snorted. Who cared what that guy thought anyway?

Ed's clothes were neatly folded at the end of the bed, and he put on his customary black shirt and pants for the day. His red jacket was slung over back of the chair. Winry always made fun of him for the way he dressed. She teased him that she'd steal his clothes and make him wear blue or green someday. Ed was glad she didn't. He grabbed a handful of his long, blonde hair and began combing the snarls out of it. His hair was a matter of pride to him. He refused to let anyone cut it after his mom died, and it was one way he proved to himself that no matter what he was in control of his own destiny.

The morning went by slowly. Rather than picking up his father's journal, Ed read one of the books that he had brought from Risembol. He didn't know how much of his father's bullshit he was ready to take. After only an hour, Ed began feeling confined. Screw Mustang, he thought as he grabbed his crutch and headed for the door.

All eyes were on Ed as he made his way slowly down the stairs. The inn was relatively deserted that day. There were a few old men sitting a table playing dominos and a few women sewing in the corner. One of the women rose when Ed made his way to the counter. Ed smiled, but she didn't return the gesture.

She didn't even meet his gaze. "Is there something you would like? The Colonel told me not to disturb you for breakfast just yet."

Ed's stomach growled. "I'd like some oatmeal if you have any, please."

She nodded. "I'll bring it up right away."

"Don't bother. I can eat down here."

The woman's mouth dropped open. "But the colonel said..."

"Screw him! Mustang doesn't own me," Ed snapped. There was a collective gasp in the room, and Ed sighed. "He's a pain in the ass, but he isn't THAT bad."

With her face to the floor, the woman nodded. "If you say so."

"What's everyone's deal here anyway?"

A deep snort caught Ed's attention, and he watched the owner set down his mining gear. "The military official in charge here is bleeding this town dry, and you think that we shouldn't be outraged that you and your colonel barged your way into OUR home? You have a lot of nerve kid."

Ed sighed. "Yeah, I've heard that before. And he isn't MY anything."

"He's sure cozy with Yoki," Ed heard one man whisper.

"Who is Yoki?" Ed asked bluntly.

The owner rolled his eyes. "You really don't know a damn thing, do you? Yoki is the piece of filth the military put in charge out here and he has made a profit off of our sweat and blood ever since. I don't know what's going on up there now, but it can't be good."

"Halling, please," the owner's wife begged. She eyed Ed fearfully.

"I'm not going to go squealing to Mustang, if that's what you think. All I want is breakfast," Ed told them plopping himself uninvited at one of the tables.

Halling frowned, but motioned for his wife to get Ed's oatmeal. A few minutes later, the skittish woman reappeared with a bowl. No one said another word to Ed, and in the end it wasn't much better down here than it had been in his room. He missed the orphanage more than he had thought he would. It was strange eating breakfast without a table full of smiling faces and laughter. Ed sighed and finished his food.

The weather was quite nice outside, and Ed dared go just a little farther. Once again, he fell back to his mantra of the day: "screw Mustang." The town was relatively deserted. Ed reasoned that most of the men were in the mines during the day. Smoke was rising just above the busy mines from all of the machinery and that scent was in the air. The mines couldn't be a pleasant place to work. There weren't many women around either, Ed noticed. He saw a few mothers on their porches with their small children. Even when he did pass someone, they never looked at him. For once, Ed was certain that their aversion to him had nothing to do with his disability. These people really and truly hated the military, and they all knew who Ed had come with.

Ed knew lots of people who hated the military. That wasn't all together uncommon. Many people thought that the Fuhrer and his "dogs." Pinako had a lot to say on the subject. She blamed the military for the deaths of her son and daughter-in-law. The war in Ishballa had raged on for too long, and the people had lost faith in the military leaders. Too much blood had been shed for most people to ignore it. Ed snorted. It was the blood of the common man, and that was why the elite could ignore it. He wondered if Mustang even cared about the people that died in Ishballa.

Ed roamed the streets of the small town for what felt like eternity. He was bored, but it was still better than sitting in the hotel room. Even before the orphanage, Ed's days were never spent just sitting around. Ed's mother had been adamant that her sons go out and find something to do with the day. They'd spent most of their childhoods roaming the forest and playing in the stream. Al had always loved to fish. They rarely caught anything, but when they did their mother would cook it for dinner and praise them. After she died, Ed and Al had fallen into life at the orphanage doing what they were asked and then playing with the other children. This stagnancy was driving Ed crazy. If only he had something to read…well, something besides the journal.

"What are you doing out here?" A voice asked from behind Ed.

Ed spun and nearly lost his balance. Mustang was standing just a few feet away, and he didn't look happy. "I got bored," Ed replied crisply. "I got tired of sitting around all day."

"You were supposed to be reading. That was part of the bargain." Mustang crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'll read it. I just wanted some air."

The Colonel frowned. "I told you to stay in the room."

Ed bristled. He wasn't sure how long he could handle Colnel Tight-Ass. "I'm not a child."

"Well, then don't act like one. These people aren't going to roll out the red carpet for you, Edward. You are an easy target for someone looking to get even with the military. Coming out here was stupid," Mustang chided.

"Well, I'm fine. Let's just go back." Ed began to brush past the officer, when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

Mustang's gaze was piercing. "You really don't get it, do you? I've never met someone so stubborn as you are. The next time I tell you to do something, you had best do it."

Ed's mouth went dry as he stared into those bottomless eyes. He looked away. "Or what? You'll take my daddy's money away?"

"Not all consequences come from me," Roy told him seriously. "Don't be an idiot and find out the hard way. This town is hostile—and they have their reasons. Any of these miners could break you like a twig."

The two men didn't say a word when they went back to the hotel. Mustang allowed Ed to make his own way up the steps this time. That wasn't to say that he appeared to have gotten any friendlier. The set of Mustang's jaw didn't leave any room to wonder at his mood. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and loosened his collar. "We're going to be here for a few more days. It appears that Yoki is more of a fool than any of us anticipated," Roy explained.

"What's going on here anyway?" Ed asked irritably.

The officer sighed. "Yoki is embezzling funds from the taxes he's been collecting from the miners. The books he sent to Central were so obviously fixed that Hawkeye and I were sent to check up on him. Now that I have proof, he is being brought up on charges. Someone is being sent out to escort Yoki out for the trial within the next day or so."

Ed slumped in the chair, and began picking imaginary lint from his pants. "So this guy really is scum. No wonder they all hate you guys."

Roy didn't reply to the insult. Instead, he picked up the journal. "Did you read very much?"

Instantly Ed's cheeks began to burn. "I…I read a little."

"I spoke with Izumi when I called Central. She'll be expecting you to begin lessons in two weeks. I told her that you needed some time to get settled."

Ed only nodded

That night Hawkeye, Mustang, and Ed all ate dinner in the common room. The entire room had cleared out as soon as they sat down. No one commented on it, but Ed could tell that Hawkeye was bothered by it. From what Ed could tell, Hawkeye would follow any order Mustang gave, but she didn't always seem to like them. Ed could respect that. After the silent meal, the trio split up, and the men were once more alone in their room.

With the light on, Ed felt a bit self-conscious as he stripped down. He admired Roy's form from the corner of his eye. As he'd expected, there wasn't an ounce of fat on the colonel's body. He was lean and toned. His skin was as pale as porcelain and nearly unblemished. Ed noticed a long jagged scar on Mustang's chest. Probably some war wound, he decided, the kind that the women he brought home would "oooh and aww" over. Why did he have to be so damned perfect? An unwanted wave of lust hit Ed as he watched Roy splash water on his face from the basin. Damn, this was the last thing Ed needed. He didn't really even like the guy!

Biting his lip, Ed began folding his shirt. He could feel Mustang's eyes on him. "What?" he snapped meeting Roy's gaze. He hated being stared at like some kind of sideshow.

Roy shrugged. "I was just wondering if you had ever talked to anyone about artificial limbs?"

That wasn't what Ed had been expecting, and he calmed down a bit. "The doctor told me that I didn't have enough left of my arm or leg to bother with."

"But that's not his field of expertise. Did you see anyone else?"

"It's not like the orphanage had the money to send me to see someone," he replied honestly. "I get around alright."

"So it seems." Mustang went right back to getting ready for bed and ignored Ed.

Ed was kind of glad that he didn't say anything more. For a long time, Ed had thought about it, but like his hopes of an apprenticeship, he'd pushed those thoughts away. Maybe things could be different now. It took him a minute to build up his courage, but Ed had to ask. "Do you think maybe there is someone who does that kind of thing in Central?"

Mustang nodded. "I know for a fact that there is. Amputees aren't uncommon after battles. The military has its own specialists for the veterans. I think I could pull some strings and get you in. Is it what you want? They may tell you exactly what the doctors did, Ed."

"It's what I want," Ed confirmed. Mustang had no idea how badly he wanted it.

On a normal day, Ed didn't spend much time on self-pity or that kind of thing. He really had learned to live with it, but if there was really a chance that Ed could walk normally… Thoughts of Central drifted through Ed's mind as he fell asleep. For the first time in years, he was allowing himself to think about what might be. An education, a chance to be almost normal again, the possibility of being someone—it was all more than he'd hoped for in a very long time. His life at the orphanage had been good, but this was something more. There was a smile on Ed's face when he closed his eyes.

Unfortunately, peace was fleeting. The dream began as it always began. Ed was in the forest and the scream that he couldn't forget cut through the air. Every time, Ed raced faster than he'd ever thought possible. He flew through the trees in a vain attempt to get there just a second sooner, all the while knowing he never would. He could smell the acrid scent of burning flesh even before he opened the door. "BROTHER!" Al wailed as he thrashed about. Ed froze in horror. His body wouldn't move. Nearly every night for six years, Ed was forced to watch his brother burn to death. He listened to his brother's screams of agony as he was powerless to help him.

This night something else happened. "You're alright, Edward. It's over." That voice was so compassionate and reassuring. "It's over. It wasn't your fault."

Even in his sleep, Ed could feel his body shake as he was pulled into an embrace. That voice kept talking to him, kept pulling him farther from the nightmare. Ed wished that he could spend forever listening to that voice. It made him feel safe. Somehow, he just knew that voice could save him.