Any Time
"I can't believe I have to go this stupid party." Ed huffed as he struggled to put on the military uniform that was apparently required at said party.
"Aw cheer up brother! I'm sure you'll have fun. Besides, there's gonna be free food!" Al comforted.
Ed huffed but said nothing more. Leave it to his brother to look at the positive side of things. That night was Fuhrer Bradley's 61st birthday, and according to the colonel bastard, there was a ball held each year that all state alchemists were required to attend. Ed suspected that it was a way to show off the talented alchemists in the military to guests who came from other countries, like Drachma, in order to intimidate them.
It had been almost a year since Ed joined the military, and he had made no progress on fixing Al's body. Why go to some stupid ball to be shown off when he could be researching? Unfortunately, the bastard colonel had made it clear that he would kill Ed with his bare hands if he didn't attend the ball. On top of that, the stupid asshole had the nerve to insult his height!
"Military uniform is required by the way. Do they even have uniforms that short?
Ed scowled at the memory. They did in fact have uniforms that fit him just fine. They were totally normal sized, not small at all. He finally finished buttoning his uniform before he smoothed it out and looked in the mirror. Blue was decidedly not his colour. Not to mention how uncomfortable it was….
"Brother you look so nice in your uniform!" Al said, trying to help Ed feel better about the whole thing. Ed gave him a weak smile in return.
"Thanks Al. Are you sure you don't want to come?" Ed asked. Al had decided that it would probably be better if he didn't go to the ball. He told Ed that he didn't want the attention and questions that came with being a suit of armour. Al had planned to go to the library and do some more research. Ed desperately wished to switch places with his brother, but instead, he was gonna be surrounded by a bunch of stuck up adults.
"I'm sure brother. Don't worry, okay? You're gonna be fine!"
There was a knock at the door, and Ed groaned, but he grabbed his gloves and went to greet Colonel Roy Mustang, who was his ride. The older alchemist said that it was so he could make sure that Ed actually went to the stupid ball. Next to the colonel, Riza smiled warmly at Ed.
"You look very handsome, Edward." She complimented. Ed blushed slightly and mumbled a thanks. He was about to return a compliment to Hawkeye, when the bastard interrupted.
"Glad you found your uniform on such short notice, Fullmetal." Roy teased, giving his signature smirk.
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL THAT EVEN A FLEA WEARS BIGGER CLOTHES?!"
"Honestly Fullmetal, I didn't even say that!"
"But you implied it, you bastard!"
"Okay! You'd better leave soon or you'll be late," Al said before a full blown argument could start, pushing Ed out the door. "Bye Ed!" he called as he shut the door.
"Okay, time to lay down some ground rules," Roy started once they were all in the car. Ed sighed loudly, but Roy ignored him.
"Absolutely no alcohol. You're only 13. Second, don't talk unless spoken to. I don't trust you to not make a fool of yourself."
"Hey!" Ed protested.
"Third, remember that tonight, you are representing the country of Amestris. Don't do anything that would look bad for the Fuhrer. No running, no loud noises, and don't use alchemy unless the Fuhrer asks you."
"So basically this is gonna be the most boring night of my life." Ed sighed, sinking down into his seat. Mustang rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. Despite what Ed thought, Mustang also hated these events. A lot of people in the military felt threatened by him, so it was exhausting to have to make polite small talk with people who wanted to knock him down a few ranks. The difference for him was that he could at least drink to get the edge off.
As soon as they arrived at the ball, Ed made a beeline for the buffet table. Roy didn't even bother trying to stop him. At least if his mouth was full of food, he couldn't say something stupid. Roy would consider himself lucky if Ed didn't punch someone tonight.
"Ah, Colonel Mustang!"
Roy cursed under his breath and groaned inwardly. Of course that bastard would be here. Roy sighed and put on a polite smile before turning to greet the man who called him.
"General Davis! I didn't know you'd be here tonight." Roy said, shaking the man's hand. Davis used to be stationed in East City like Roy, but a recent promotion got him moved to Central, and boy, did he like to rub that in Roy's face.
"Well, I just couldn't miss our Fuhrer's birthday! I'm surprised you were invited!"
"Yes well, all state alchemists were requested to be here by the Fuhrer. Regular military members such as yourselves didn't have to take the time to be here." Roy shot back, especially enjoying the look of displeasure on Davis' face before he quickly replaced it with a forced smile.
"Right, of course. Well I hope you enjoy yourself."
"Likewise"
Roy waited until the man had fully left his sight before scowling. Interactions like that were the reason he hated these events. Unfortunately, there was still four hours left of the ball. Roy decided that he was too sober to be talking to people, so he made his way to the bar to get a drink. Waiting for his order, he suddenly remembered that Fullmetal was here. He sincerely hoped that he hadn't gotten into any trouble yet. Roy scanned the ballroom for his blond subordinate, laughing to himself about how hard it was to find Ed in the crowd of tall people, when he spotted him leaning against the far wall. Something was off about him…. The blond was massaging his hands through the gloves he always wore, and was biting his lip anxiously. His eyes looked off into the distance, like he wasn't really there.
Roy was about to get up and talk to him when the orchestra finished playing a song. All of a sudden, people were walking everywhere. Some people were going to the dance floor, and some people were leaving it. Everyone was talking and laughing, some people clapping for the orchestra, but Roy couldn't see Ed in the crowd. Suddenly, the orchestra started up again, and the crowd thinned a little, but just enough for him to see the blond alchemist slip out of the room. Without hesitation, Roy followed.
Shit
Those were the only words that came to Ed's mind.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Not now. Why now?
As soon as Ed had arrived at the gala, he made his way to the buffet table. That's the only reason he was there. He didn't want to chat with other guests, or dance with someone, or worse, be shown off by the Fuhrer. He planned to spend all four hours here, eating fancy food, and watching people dance. He was especially enjoying the cheesecake when it hit him, making him almost drop his plate.
It felt like someone had punched him in the gut, hard, and knocked the wind out of him. Ed put his plate down on the closest surface, unable to hold it steadily, before looking around for a place to sit. All the tables had been taken, but Ed knew that he wouldn't be able to support himself standing in the middle of the room. His safest bet was to lean against the back wall and take a few deep breaths. He needed to slow down his heartbeat. He needed his hands to stop trembling. He needed his lungs to take in oxygen. Ed reached the wall and slumped against it, trying not to fall to the ground. He massaged his flesh hand with his automail hand, starting to feel that he was losing a grip on reality.
Breath, two, three, four, out, two, three, four, in, two, three, four, out, two, three, four
Repeating the mantra in his head, Ed closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. Why did this have to happen here of all places?! Ed had been dealing with panic attacks since his mom died, but they got worse the older he got. He thought that it would be the other way around, that as he got older, he would get smarter and logic would kick in, and he wouldn't have these attacks anymore. Turns out that getting older gave him more to worry about. The thing was, all his panic attacks had been at home. Usually granny or Al would be there to calm him down, and he would be in the privacy of his home. He'd never had a panic attack in such a public place. The worst part about these attacks was that they were often unprovoked. They came with no warning and took all of his energy out of him. The only thing that Ed could do was try the coping methods that he had read in some books.
Five things you see, four things you hear, three things you feel, two things you smell, and one thing you taste.
Okay, okay he could do this. Five things he saw; a chair, a violin, a woman in a blue dress, a plate, and a table. Four things he could hear; music, the sound of shoes dancing…
Suddenly, the current song the orchestra was playing ended, and then everything became a blur. There was so much noise. Talking, laughing, clapping, it was too much. Ed couldn't even think. He couldn't breath. There were too many people, too much noise. He was drowning in the crowd, and it was hot and stuffy and he couldn't get a breath of fresh air. He pushed his way through the crowds, trying not to trip. He needed to get out. He needed air. Everything around him became a blur. People turned into blobs of colour, and all the sounds became one constant buzz. The only thing that Ed could actually see was the door. Ed pushed his way to the exit, and rushed down the hallway until he found himself in the public restrooms. He was gonna throw up. He was gonna throw up, and he wouldn't be able to breath if he was throwing up. Still, Ed locked himself into a stall and slumped against the toilet, breathing heavily.
His hand was tingling, and his fingers were going numb. He whimpered at the sudden wave of nausea and clenched his fists, trying to regain feeling. He was going to die right here next to this toilet. Unwilling tears slid down his face, mixing with droplets of sweat. His hand was numb, his arm was tingling, the same feeling you get when your arm falls asleep and you have to wake it back up. His leg was also going numb. Ed gulped down some air and straightened up. He had to think. He needed to calm down. Ed tried to think of his coping mechanisms, but his brain felt static. It was fuzzy and tingling, and he felt like his head weighed a thousand pounds. Ed laid on his side, and there was nothing he could do at that point. He couldn't think, because his head felt fuzzy, and he couldn't breathe because his lungs weren't working. His arm and leg and head all felt numb, and Ed realized that he was going to die. He was going to die here on the bathroom floor at the Fuhrer's 61st birthday. Suddenly, a face appeared in Ed's line of vision, but Ed couldn't identify who it was through the blurriness of his tears and sweat. For all he knew, it could be the face of death itself, here to collect him.
"Ed?"
A voice said.
"Ed can you hear me? I need you to breathe."
That's what he was trying to do, stupid.
"You're gonna be okay, Ed, just breathe."
Breathe.
Roy finally made his way out the door that Ed went through. Now he just had to figure out which way his subordinate went. There were a few people standing in the lobby, talking, so maybe they saw which way Ed went.
"Excuse me!" Roy called, and the group turned its attention to him.
"Have you seen the Fullmetal Alchemist run through here?"
No response.
"He's really short, and has bright blond hair." Roy sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Ohhhhhhh, yea he ran through here a minute ago. I think he ran into that bathroom." A woman said, pointing down the hall to a door.
"Thank you!" Roy said before speed-walking down the hall. He didn't want to draw even more attention by running.
When he reached the door, he paused, and put his head against the door, seeing if he could hear any sign of Ed. When he didn't hear anything, he knocked a few times.
"Ed?" he called. "It's Mustang. Are you okay in there?"
No response. Roy sighed and took a couple of deep breaths, preparing himself to go in. He opened the door, and instantly heard the sound of his subordinate crying in the far stall. Rushing to the stall, Roy found the boy lying on the floor, hyperventilating. He'd seen this. During the Ishvalan war. Roy had seen many soldiers have panic attacks, but he'd never seen someone as young as Ed have one. He only hesitated for a second, before his instincts kicked in.
"Ed?" he tried.
"Ed can you hear me? I need you to breathe." Ed huffed out what sounded like a scoff. Did that mean he could hear him?
"You're gonna be okay, Ed, just breathe."
Roy reached his hand out Ed, but paused just before touching him, silently asking for permission. Ed's teary eyes met his, and Roy gently touched Ed's shoulder, checking for a reaction. Ed didn't flinch or move away, so Roy assumed it was okay to touch him. He gently lifted Ed into a sitting position, letting the kid rest against him. Ed was still breathing too heavily, and if he kept it up, he would probably pass out.
"Ed, it's me, the colonel. I need you to try and breathe with me okay? Breathe in with me."
Roy began to breathe in slowly, one hand on Ed's shoulder, and the hand held Ed's hand to his chest, so that Ed could feel him breath in. Ed followed, taking in a shaky breath. Roy breathed out slowly, and Ed shuddered and he tried to do the same.
"That's it, you're doing great, keep breathing with me."
They did this for at least a minute, and Roy thought that the worst was over, but then Ed stiffened in his arms, and his breathing sped up, faster than it was before. Roy reached to comfort him, but Ed slapped his hand away, and pushed himself off, scrambling away from his touch. Then he started yelling.
"Shit! I'm gonna die! My lungs! They're not working! I can't breath!" Ed started screaming, looking at Roy, almost begging him to help him. He couldn't breathe. His lungs weren't working. They went numb and fuzzy, just like his head and limbs did, and he couldn't control them. He forgot how to breath. His whole chest was numb, his head was numb, his vision was getting darker…
Roy was running out of options, and he was sure that Ed was going to pass out. In a moment of panic, he grabbed both of Ed's arms and held them up.
"Ed! Listen to me! You're okay! You're not going to die, I won't let you. I need you to try and focus on my voice. Please, Ed!" He pulled Ed into his arms, and let the blond head rest on his chest. He hoped that maybe hearing his heartbeat and breathing would help. For ten minutes, the two of them lay there, Ed sobbing into his commanding officer's chest, and his commanding officer rubbing his back while soothing him softly. Slowly, Ed's breathing returned to normal, but he stayed there, shuddering. When Roy felt that Ed was aware enough to talk, he moved Ed back so he could see him.
"Ed? Can you hear me now?"
Ed nodded weakly, his face still stained with tears.
"How do you feel?"
Ed rubbed at his eyes, and tried to compose himself, before clearing his throat.
"Better" he croaked. Roy nodded.
Ed sighed heavily, closing his eyes, before he leaned back into Roy's chest, too tired to get up. Roy wrapped his arms around him in response. He understood that Ed was tired. Ed's breathing slowed, and he fell asleep in his commanding officers arms.
"Thank you." he mumbled. Roy smiled.
"Any time."