Chapter fifteen

Ed was standing in front door of the mirror in the bathroom, touching it, but not seeing it. It was just black. Everything was just black. No changing hues of blackness like if he kept his eyes closed.

Ed couldn't even imagine what it must look like. He was apparently a rather unusual case, what with both eyes having been removed like that. So right now he had a plastic conformer under each eyelid to keep the shape correct until he got a pair of plastic prosthetics in a few weeks and then a pair of glass eyes after that that were going to be the same colour that his eyes were so that he didn't freak people out.

It was hard to imagine.

He still felt like he was just wearing a blindfold. That if he removed the bandages everything would just be visible again.

But it won't. I'm blind. I'm blind and it doesn't feel real.

Ed leaned on the mirror, feeling his chest constrict once again. Al was gone. Al was really gone. Ed was blind, Al as he knew him was gone, and they were living with Colonel Bastard and a couple of strangers.

"Dammit," he whispered, feeling his voice crack. He wanted out. He wanted his brother back. He didn't care if he was blind if it had just meant that he could talk to Al again.

...But he couldn't go back.

He was trapped. He was trapped in his own body in his own life and he wanted it back like it used to be. He wanted things back to normal. He wanted to grab a piece of chalk and draw up another human transmutation circle and give up his remaining arm and leg to get at least some part of Al's memories back again.

But drawing up something like that when blind was just asking to get killed by a rebound.

He was stuck this way. He couldn't undo any of it. This was his life now. He was useless and pathetic and weak.

After all, he had spent a minute just feeling himself forwards to a position in front of the toilet that left him certain that he wouldn't miss.

And now he was just standing there in front of a mirror, leaning his palm against it, feeling it, not seeing it. He could barely resist the urge to tear the bandages off. He wanted them off. He needed them off. He needed to get his body to realise that his eyes were stuck to that bastard Truth.

There were a couple of soft knocks on the door. "Edward?" It was Mustang.

Ed felt his anger surge and he curled his fist. "I haven't fallen and cracked my skull open, so just go away," Ed growled loud enough for Mustang to hear.

"Are you done in there?" came the reply, a slight hint of worry in his voice. "If you need any help, then just tell me."

Ed felt his anger spiking. "No. I don't need your help and I don't want it. All I want is for you to leave me alone," he growled louder, barely keeping himself from shouting at him. Ed didn't know if he could trust him. After everything he had said at the hospital about caring and all that stuff, he had then proceeded to not tell him about what the Hugheses were doing. Mustang had said he wanted Ed to get to be a kid, so the first thing he did was to not tell him important information to keep Ed happy. To treat him like some innocent, stupid child.

Ed couldn't trust Mustang to tell him the truth anymore. He couldn't trust someone who wouldn't tell him the truth just to spare his feelings.

He couldn't trust the bastard Colonel who wasn't acting like himself, not when he couldn't even see him. Not when he was being "kind" and was shielding him from "those nasty little facts that will make that poor midget cry even more."

Ed needed to be alone. He needed time to think. And the bastard wouldn't let him because Ed was now "weak" and "delicate" because of what happened.

"Edward, if you need to talk..." Mustang began.

"I don't, Colonel. I need you to give me some fucking alone time!" Ed said angrily. "I need you to stop smothering me!"

There was silence. "I understand, Edward... I'll go downstairs to heat up some of the leftovers for you, but I want you to promise me something in return."

Ed didn't want to make any promises to that lying bastard, but if it got him some space, then he'd hear him out for now. "What?"

"Promise me you won't go down the stairs on your own. That you won't just wander off through the house."

Ed had to say that he could spot a rather obvious loophole. "Fine. Now go."

"I'm bringing the food upstairs to you in about thirty minutes," Mustang said. "Don't break that promise or I won't have any choice but to watch you constantly," he added, his voice heavy.

"Yeah, now just go," Ed said impatiently.

He heard Mustang leave, the telltale footsteps from the stairs, and Ed waited a couple of minutes to make sure that he had really gone before moving himself in the direction of the window. When he had locked himself in the bathroom earlier, he had noticed the bathroom window was about waist height. He had briefly been contemplating to use it to escape to postpone meeting the Rockbells until he was sure he could keep himself from sobbing, but decided against it because Winry was sure to wrench him to death if she found out he disappeared out a window when he was blind.

That didn't mean that he hadn't leaned over the edge to feel the outside of the window to see if he could use it as an escape route or if he'd just plummet to his death. What he had immediately been hit by was the smell of a birch, just before his hand had fallen upon a large branch right outside that had been sawed off from about ten centimetres away from the wall of the house.

Well, Ed needed some fresh air right now, so climbing inside a birch to get some time to think sounded perfect at the moment.

And so he opened the window and climbed sideways over the sill with some awkward difficulty, using his right foot to feel his way over to the branch, hooking his leg around it before lifting himself with his left arm enough to swing his left leg over too, despite the difficulties involved with it being a prosthetic. And so he found himself with both thighs clamped around the branch while the upper part of his body was hanging over the windowsill to make sure that everything was safe.

Satisfied with the result, he pushed himself backwards enough to lean down and grab the branch so that he was clinging to it, before slowly scooting himself backwards with his legs while using his grip to keep his balance. He reached the trunk and leaned his back against it, taking a few deep breaths of the crisp, yet not too cold air, typical for August at nighttime. There was a slight breeze that was just the right kind of cold. It reminded him of Resembool.

He felt tears form as he leaned back further against the oddly shaped trunk and then froze.

That wasn't a trunk at all.

"Edward, this isn't going to work if we don't talk things out," Mustang said, startling Ed so much that he lost his balance, and the Colonel instantly grabbed Ed's left shoulder to steady him.

"You bastard! You lied to me again!" Ed said furiously, not daring to struggle too much in case he should fall and break his neck. "Let go of me! You set me up, didn't you?! That's why you didn't say anything about the window!"

Mustang just gripped his shoulder tighter. "I'm sorry, Edward, but we need to talk, and we need to do so now. I didn't want to start an argument when the Hugheses and Alphonse were sleeping about two metres away behind a thin wall. I understand that you need some alone time, of course I do, but I need to be able to trust you not to run off when I leave you alone."

Ed felt his anger rise even further. "I wouldn't feel the need to run off if it hadn't been for the fact that you've been hovering over me almost every fucking minute since I woke up in the hospital! And while you do so, you also feel the need to fucking lie to me so that you can "protect" me from being hurt further like I'm some stupid kid! I can't trust you to tell me the truth! I can't trust you about anything and especially not when the only mental images I have of you consist of you being angry or smirking or stone-faced or annoyed or pleased with yourself! Every single one of my memories of you include you not giving a damn about me! All my mind can come up with is you being smug while lording it over me! THAT is what I "see" whenever you talk to me! And then you see it fit to lie to me because you wanna treat me like I'm some snotty child! Like you know what's best for me! Like you have a right to rule every fucking part of my life! And all the while, with all your words of wisdom and "I care about you"s, you manipulate me so that you get YOUR will! I hate you!" Ed said furiously. "So now you know what's on my mind! Now get the hell away from me, because we're done talking!" Ed finished, moving forwards to get back to the window, only to have Mustang grab him around the waist and lift him under his left arm as he seemed to climb back down onto the ground by a ladder.

"Shut up!" Mustang said the second Ed opened his mouth to protest, anger obvious, stomping forwards with Ed under his arm. "Shut up until I say otherwise!" he commanded.

Ed had no idea what he was up to, but the tone of his voice was something he had never heard before. It was something that made Ed keep his mouth shut because it made it clear that some kind of line had been crossed.

And Ed was thoroughly afraid that said line had been the one that made sure that Ed wasn't separated from Al because Ed had now pissed Mustang off so much that he'd be voicing his worries to the Führer that he did not believe Edward to be safe around Alphonse.

Ed kept quiet for a long time, just listening to the pissed off man walking around in some unknown part of the city. Then suddenly Mustang took a step down so that the muffled sounds of footsteps, most likely on grass, turned into the unmistakable sound of feet on sand. Mustang suddenly put him back on his feet and held him by his shoulders. "Here's the deal, Edward. This is a bunker on a golf course a six minutes' walk from my house. What you're going to do is that you're going to walk around here, get the feel of the inside of this bunker, and then you and me are going to spar," Mustang said sternly.

Ed froze. "What the hell, Mustang? It's in the middle of the night! And why here?!"

"Because it is the closest pit of sand I can think of and there are no fences, no poles, nothing that either of us can crash into, while there is also soft ground all around us. There are also no people around to complain about any shouting, and the only light I have to go by is the moonlight, which puts me at a disadvantage while you can hear where I am because of the sand. So get the feel of this bunker, and then you come at me with full force, and I won't hold back either. There is no alchemy involved, nothing other than a full-on sparring session."

Ed just stood there, wondering just what the hell Mustang was up to. "Why the hell are you doing this? What's your plan?"

"Because you need to let off some steam and you put that anger into your fist and legs and get anything you need off your chest while you come at me." Mustang had something dangerous and slightly unhinged in his tone as he spoke. It made Ed a bit uncertain, no matter how much he wanted to use this opportunity. He just didn't get what Mustang was up to. "Go now! Get the outline of the bunker, then you come at me when you're ready."

Ed paused for only a second, but then he heard the fact that Mustang was serious. There wasn't any planning, nothing. He wanted Ed to tell him all the crap that was stored inside him and let it all out in a sparring match.

And so Ed turned around, limped about, getting the feel of the bunker as well as his spare leg. He must have spent at least twenty minutes walking around, mostly to get the hang if his leg as he built up a mental picture of his surroundings, all the while, he could hear Mustang shifting his feet just slightly, just making a bit of noise to let Ed know where he was.

Then Ed stood still, facing him. "You really wanna do this?"

"Yes, and I do not expect you to hold back, and neither will I, but I want you to promise me one thing, Edward."

Ed clenched his fist at that. There was the condition. There was that thing that gave that feeling of this being too good to be true. "What?" Ed growled. If Mustang had been waisting his time for the last thirty minutes with empty promises, then Ed would make his life hell from now on.

"You do not tell anyone about the fact that I dragged you out here at one in the morning the day after you had your eyesight removed and went through surgery, and about twelve hours after you received a spare prosthetic leg that you aren't used to, only to spar in the middle of a golf course."

Ed couldn't help the smirk.

Then he charged at him with full force.

Roy was slammed backwards into the sand for the umpteenth time, once again getting the wind knocked out of him. They were both full of sweat and covered in sand that was sticking to their skin as they panted heavily.

Edward had given him an earful, leaving Roy certain that this had been a good idea, because now he knew what he was up against. How much hate and anger he had inspired. How much of a bastard he really had been.

And how much better of a fighter that Ed was compared to himself. And Roy hadn't held back, because he knew that Edward would have been able to tell in a second if Roy did. So yes, Roy had caused Ed a few bruises, but Edward had also given him double that amount.

And now Roy was sore all over and in serious need of a shower.

Edward was standing over him, panting, and Roy had to admit utter defeat. "Edward... I don't think I'll be able to walk home if we go for another round..." Roy groaned. "I'm throwing in the towel."

Edward grinned and kneeled down next to him, and Roy took his hand and placed it on his own face, before letting go of it. "This, Edward, is me being completely defeated by you to the point that it feels like I'm eighty years old."

Edward smiled at that, moving his hand around to feel, hopefully getting a mental picture a hell of a lot better than those he had from before. Roy could see how much he had benefited from being able to vent unrestrainedly like this. It was a weird kind of glow that came off from him. "That's a good look on you, Colonel."

Roy put his hand on top of Ed's, guiding it back to rest on Roy's cheek, his voice heavy with guilt and self-loathing. "...And it is the face of a man who hates himself."

So, just because I don't want to seem like I'm exaggerating Ed's fighting skills: canonically from the manga (although they skipped that part in Brotherhood and changed it slightly in the first anime) their first month of training with Izumi was spent with trying to survive and feed themselves by day, and then having a masked man hired by Izumi to attack them by night, teaching them to fight in the darkness. I am therefore basing Ed's fighting and coordination on that particular piece of canon.

And please do review, they light up my day!

(But no flames)