Chapter Seven

When Edward opened his eyes, he expected to be greeted by the walls and decoration of the hotel room he and Mustang were staying in. Instead, he struggled to take in his surroundings and make sense of them. From the looks of it, he appeared to be in the main park in Central City, back home in Amestris. He frowned as he sat up, flesh hand moving up to rub his head, mainly to check for injuries, anything to explain why he was suddenly in a park instead of a hotel room. Maybe he'd been kidnapped? But he found nothing. The frown didn't disappear as he forced himself to stand up and look around.

He was definitely in the main park in Central. There was no mistaking the lamp posts or the kinds of trees. Not to mention the buildings when he looked around. He gave himself a visual once over but could see no signs of blood or dirt that would indicate he'd been in a fight. Had he and Mustang finished their mission to capture Harding? Maybe Truth had dropped them in Central's park the same way it had dropped them in the park in New York City. It was the sort of dick move that Edward had come to expect from Truth, so it wouldn't be beyond the realm of probability that could be what had happened.

Shaking out his arms and legs, he ascertained that both his flesh and automail limbs were fully functional and not bruised or broken before he pushed himself to his feet. He heard the faint sound of someone's voice from the other side of the trees and that's when it struck him how quiet it was. No matter the time, you could always count on some noise when you were in Central. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up and his instincts were screaming at him to leave but, of course, he didn't. He wasn't the type to run away from a fight.

Instead, he headed for the source of the only sound he could hear; a yelling voice that sounded familiar in a way that he couldn't place. He followed the footpath ahead of him until he was standing on top of the hill before deciding to cut across the grass, hoping to catch the person unawares. His gut was roiling with nerves and anxiety that only grew with every step he took towards the unknown person. He'd barely gotten halfway across the grass towards the tree line when he realised that it wasn't one voice that he was hearing, but two. He tried to keep his breathing quiet so he could hear them better and he was convinced that he recognised both voices. The thought of how he'd ended back in Central in the middle of the night, in the middle of a park without Mustang was pushed to the back of his mind as he crept closer to the voices.

He felt his breath freeze when he actually laid eyes on the two people standing further along the footpath, underneath a pool of golden light created by the nearby light post. Lieutenant Colonel – no, Brigadier General - Hughes and Lieutenant Maria Ross were standing in front of a payphone, the actual phone still gripped in Hughes' hand as he spoke to Ross. Ed felt his eyes water with tears as he laid eyes on Hughes, alive and healthy. Then Ross raised a gun and Hughes said a few more words to her, causing her to grin. The grin – it was completely wrong. Ed knew Maria, knew her well, and she'd never smiled that coldly before to anyone. Her smiles were always soft and warm, not that twisted version currently curled on her lips.

Ed had barely started breathing again when red energy crackled around Ross' form and she transformed into Gracia in front of Hughes. Suddenly, it all clicked for Ed. That red energy could only be caused by one thing; a Philosopher's Stone. Even more, there was only one thing he knew of that could use a stone to shift forms and that was Envy. Those two facts added to where they were meant that somehow Ed had arrived in the park at the exact time when Hughes had died trying to get vital information to Mustang.

No longer caring about stealth, Ed tore away from his hiding place. Neither Hughes nor Envy turned towards him and Ed didn't have the time to waste wondering why they didn't turn to him. He was, after all, making a lot of noise and should've been easily spotted, especially by Hughes and the homunculous. He felt his panic growing rapidly as Envy-Gracia's lips twisted into a feral grin and her finger moved to the trigger.

He had a chance to save Hughes – to make sure that Mustang didn't lose his best friend; that Gracia and Elysia didn't lose the most important person in their lives. He didn't know how or why Truth would have decided to drop him at this exact moment, but he had the chance and he was going to take it.

Ed opened his mouth to try and get Hughes to just move out of the way but no sound came out. He was only a few meters away now, stretching his arm out desperately to close that gap, to get to Hughes just that little bit quicker. He heard Envy-Gracia laugh manically and Hughes' despondent whisper of his wife's name.

Then came the sound that he had been dreading to hear ever since he'd found out about how Hughes had died. Ed felt the stiff cloth of Hughes' military issue jacket on the fingertips of his flesh hand as he made to push Hughes out of the way. Then Hughes jerked backwards, away from Ed and the fake Gracia, falling like a puppet when its strings got cut to slump gracelessly to the floor of the phone booth. Ed managed to stop himself from tripping over the man's sprawled feet, twisting where he stood before crouching and grabbing desperately for Hughes.

He refused to acknowledge the dead eyes staring back at him, the fact that the blood pooling from the wound wasn't gushing out like it should be if his heart was still pumping, that his flesh fingers couldn't find a pulse. He tore off his signature red coat to press it against the wound, trying to stop the blood from flowing but the coat was soon drenched, Hughes' blood staining Ed's gloves and seeping through the material. Ed wanted to throw up at the fact that he could feel Hughes' blood on his hand, his tears adding to the mess.

"This is your fault, Pipsqueak." Ed turned to face the fake Gracia only to find that she'd changed back to look like Envy once more. "If only you hadn't kept pushing. If only you hadn't let yourself get so attached to the man. If only you'd managed to convince him to stop digging. This wouldn't have happened. A man you counted as family wouldn't be lying here alone; the last thing he'd have seen wouldn't have been his beloved wife shooting him in cold blood, the last thing he'd heard wouldn't have been his best friend's desperate cries of his name as he hoped the sound he'd heard wasn't a gunshot." Envy sneered, his voice a false simpering tone. "After all, Pipsqueak, everyone you care about always leaves you. Why would he be any different?" Envy disappeared and Ed turned back to Hughes.

"Please don't die, Hughes. You can't." Ed finally heard his voice for the first time tonight. It was scratchy from his screaming earlier and was thick with his sobs. "You've got to live. For Elysia, for Gracia, for Mustang. For me. Please don't leave us," he begged. He pressed more harshly on his coat-made-bandage and felt bile rise in his throat as blood leaked out of the saturated cloth and onto his already soaked gloves. He could hear the squelching noise the blood made as he put more pressure on the wound, knowing deep down inside there was no way a human could survive losing this much blood. In fact, there should be no way a gunshot wound that was immediately fatal should be leaking this much blood.

Ed noticed the moment Hughes' dead eyes moved to lock with his and that sent him scrambling backwards, leaving bloody handprints and smears on the footpath as he did so. He watched in horror as Hughes' corpse sat up from its slouching position and slowly climbed to its feet. Ed's red coat fell from where it sat on his chest and landed on the ground with a sickeningly wet splash, blood splattering thickly from where it lay. Hughes looked down at the wound in his chest, his own blood staining the surrounding material, before looking back at Edward.

Ed's vision blurred as a new onslaught of tears threatened to fall as Hughes' dead gaze met his. He couldn't describe how wrong it was to look Hughes in the eye and not get any kind of emotion in return. No joy, no sadness, no anger, no neutrality, no nothing. Hughes pulled himself to his feet and shuddered as Hughes' gaze followed his every move. Ed wanted to run, run as far away as he could but his legs wouldn't move. He could only watch as Hughes walked closer to him, one steady step at a time. He gasped when Hughes was right up in his space, analyzing him before leaning down so his cold cheek pressed against Ed's tear-soaked one. Ed tried to pull away but he couldn't move an inch.

"It's your fault I died without getting a chance to see Elysia grow up. Your fault Gracia is a widow. Your fault I died alone and scared, in the middle of an empty park, with no one around to find me for hours. Your fault Mustang had to hear my murder over the phone. This is all your fault. I should have never taken you in. Tragedy follows you wherever you go and it's always us that pay the price." Hughes' breath was achingly cold where it brushed over his ear and Ed trembled where he knelt on the footpath but Hughes wasn't done yet. "Your mother, Nina, Alexander and now me. Who's next, Edward? Who must die next for you to learn your lesson? Alphonse? Winry? Mustang? Elysia? Who else has to die for you?" Hughes asked and Ed sobbed as he watched the man pull away from him. Those dead eyes still showed no emotion as the man stepped out of Ed's space.

"I didn't want anyone to die." Ed sobbed, still frozen in place. He couldn't even bring his hands up to hide his face, not that he wanted to since his gloves were covered in blood. "I didn't want you to die."

"Don't worry, Edward." Hughes' emotionless voice made Ed wince. The dead man brought a hand up and brushed away some of the tears on Ed's cheeks in what could've been a comforting gesture if it weren't for the fact Hughes' skin was ice cold and his eyes still held nothing. "You only cost Gracia her chance at a life with a husband and robbed Elysia of her father." The hand left his face and Ed gasped – in relief or despair, he didn't know – before watching Hughes walk back to the phone booth and lay himself back down in the position he'd been laying in when Envy shot him.

"Did big brother really kill daddy? Is that why he won't come home?" Elysia's sweet voice had Ed spinning on the spot, trying to find her but seeing nothing.

"That's right, sweetheart. Your big brother got him killed. He stole your father from us. It's his fault we had to bury him." Gracia's kind voice didn't match her words and, once again, Ed couldn't find her when he tried to look.

"That's right, Fullmetal. You're a murderer. You may not have pulled the trigger but you might as well have. You knew he'd never stop helping you but you didn't try hard enough to stop him. You killed my best friend." Mustang's cold sneer sounded like it was hissed in Ed's ear, causing the blonde to spin around, eyes wide and frantic but no one was there.

He scrambled backwards, trying desperately to get away from the voices, but they were surrounding him, invisible, but clearly there. The wrist of his flesh hand suddenly buckled as it hit a rock, and he fell over on his side, curling up in a fetal position.

"It's your fault I'm dead!"

"You killed daddy!"

"You forced us to bury my husband!"

"You murdered my best friend!"

Ed buried his face against his arms as he cried while the voices continued taunting him, whispering their accusations in his ears as the tears were soaked into the sleeve of his black jacket. It was all his fault. The voices were right. He didn't know why they had pretended like he wasn't to blame for Hughes' death all this time, but he knew the truth. He had always known the truth. He ruined lives no matter who they were or how they happened to come in contact with him.

Ed sat straight up in bed, gasping and covered in sweat. Calming his breathing as much as was possible, he looked around, trying to figure out where he was this time. After a moment, he realised that he was in the hotel room he was currently sharing with Mustang while they hunted down Harding. That realisation helped to calm him even more. It had just been a nightmare. It had apparently been too much to hope that the energy he had expended by using his new tracking array would drain him enough that he could get a solid night's sleep for a change.

He was no stranger to the nightmares, after all. He'd seen more horrible things than most people his age could ever imagine, so it wasn't any real mystery why he had them. They were part of his punishment for all of the terrible things he'd done during his quest to get Alphonse's body back, and for the crime he'd originally committed on the night that he'd violated the taboo, so he had absolutely no regrets.

Even so, sometimes he just wished they'd go away. They were exhausting, both mentally and physically. He was almost always tired these days, which had never been an issue before he and Al had succeeded in their quest. During their journey, they'd always been on the move and almost always in life threatening situations or on missions for the military. Plus, he'd always had Al to wake him up before his nightmares turned really bad. Once he woke up from them, he'd always been able to fall back into a dreamless sleep.

Unfortunately, this time he knew that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. His eyes fell on Mustang's sleeping form and a shudder passed through his body involuntarily.

"You murdered my best friend!"

He flinched as the echo of Mustang's accusations rang in his head. He knew that the words had just been part of his nightmare, but there was a part of him that couldn't help but wonder if Mustang really did blame him for Hughes' death. After all, the Colonel had lied to him and Al about what had happened to Hughes when they'd first returned to Central after their visit to Teacher in Dublith. In all the chaos surrounding the Promised Day, they'd had to put aside any personal disputes or irritations, or they wouldn't have been able to defeat the homunculi and save Amestris.

Edward slipped out of his bed and headed for the bathroom. Whenever he was unable to sleep in Amestris, he would read, go for a walk, or do both, depending on what Al was interested in doing. Here though? He didn't have any reading material and going for a walk in an unfamiliar city while there was a rogue alchemist murdering the lookalikes of other alchemists didn't seem like a brilliant idea. Despite what Mustang thought, Edward didn't always go looking for trouble.

Splashing water on his face, Ed looked at his reflection in the mirror. While he looked tired, he didn't think he looked too exhausted. In his mind, he looked about how he would be expected to look considering it was the middle of the night and he hadn't gotten a full night's sleep. Sighing, he straightened up as he contemplated what he should do now. He couldn't read, going outside without back up was just asking for trouble and he didn't feel like sitting his bed alone with his thoughts. His next best option was exploring the hotel, maybe going down to the lobby and seeing if there was anything there to entertain him.

Decision made, he went back into the bedrooms and quietly slipped on his boots, socks, and red jacket, forgoing his belt and black jacket for the time being. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he exited the room and made his way down the dimly lit hallway, trying to muddle his way through his thoughts and banish the memory of those accusing voices from his nightmare. He was surprised to find himself suddenly in the lobby. It was still brightly lit and manned by one person. Ed made his way over to the counter and caught the attendant's attention.

"Hello, sir. Is everything alright with your room?" The clerk, whose name badge read "James", asked with concern. In his experience, no guest came out of his room at three in the morning unless there was a problem with the room.

"Hmm? Oh, no. There's no problem with the room. I just can't sleep." Ed almost missed the small sigh of relief the clerk released upon hearing that.

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir. How may I help?" Guests with sleeping problems weren't uncommon. James just hoped that there was an easy solution to this guest's problem.

"I was just hoping that you might have any books I could borrow. It doesn't matter what genre. If not, would you have any paper and pencils I could steal? And is there a quiet room somewhere that I could use?" Edward didn't feel like explaining why he was awake to Mustang, should the man actually wake up.

James didn't look surprised by his requests. Turning around, he went into a cupboard behind the registration desk and pulled out a small box that held a dozen or so books, and then put several sheets of paper and a few pencils on top of the box. He turned back to face Edward and slid the box across the counter towards him. "Sometimes guests leave belongings behind at the end of their stay. These are books that haven't been collected by their owners yet. You're welcome to read them, but please return them all when you're done, just in case their owners turn up and want them back."

He indicated a door at the opposite end of the lobby. "There's an empty conference room over there that we use for business meetings. You're welcome to use it for as long as you like, as we don't have any meetings scheduled for a few days."

Hefting the box into his arms, Edward thanked James and headed towards the room that had been indicated. Shifting the box so that its weight was being solely held up by his automail, he opened the door, switched on the lights, and closed the door behind himself once he entered. He plonked the box of books onto the table and studied his surroundings. There was some sort of white sheet-like object hanging on the wall directly opposite the door, enough chairs for at least ten people to sit around the central table, and a few extra chairs along one wall. There was a weird boxy contraption hanging from the room and it seemed to be pointed at the white sheet. Ed surmised that the two objects were related to one another. There was also a small coffee station on his left. Ed was tempted, but didn't want to risk breaking the machine because he didn't know how to use it properly. Besides, he wasn't tired enough to need coffee to wake up now that he had the books.

Choosing a chair away from the door, a habit he had picked up during the time when he was being hunted by the homunculi, he started to sort the books out. There were a few biographies, a fantasy novel, a couple of romance novels that Ed was never going to touch in a million years, a few true-crime novels, and some textbooks. Ed looked at his options and decided to start with the textbooks. A quick glance confirmed they were from different schools, so he hoped they'd be as close to what he normally read as possible. There seemed to be two focusing on this dimension's sciences and one about history.

They weren't as detailed as he would have preferred, but a half-hour later he was a bit better versed in some of the history and science of this dimension. He was relieved to see that even though this dimension didn't use alchemy, they did seem to have a pretty thorough understanding of chemistry and biology which wasn't all that different from what he was familiar with in Amestris. As far as history went, he was glad to know that, so far, Amestris and her neighbouring countries hadn't initiated anything on the same scale as the World Wars of this dimension. Even the Ishvalen War of Extermination, horrible as it was, hadn't been as terrible as the wars of this world. Shaking his head at the atrocities committed in this dimension's past, he moved on to the true crime novels.

None of them were particular difficult to read, but they were still fascinating and much more interesting than boring military records. As he'd hoped, they gave him a much better explanation as to how the police here worked. He also learned that, aside from some technological advances and other minor things, there weren't that many differences between how the Amestrian MPs and the police of this dimension operated. Granted, this world didn't have alchemy to hinder or help and investigation, present case excluded. The murders in these books always seemed pretty straight forward, but Ed took extra time with them that he hadn't with the textbooks, making sure that he never missed anything that might prove useful during this case. There were some terms and techniques he didn't quite understand, but he fully intended to get Doctor Reid, Agent Jareau, or Miss Garcia to explain them more fully to him.

As he put the final crime novel down, he looked at his final choices of novels. He'd never been a fan of nonfiction unless it related to alchemy, and considering that he didn't know anything about any of the people these biographies were about, he didn't foresee them capturing his interest. He also never really cared for fantasy novels, although he knew that Al had enjoyed reading them during the long nights he'd been forced to spend alone when he'd been bonded to the armour. But he downright refused to touch the romance novels, which left him with limited choices, so, grimacing a little, he drew out the fantasy novel and started reading.

He was abruptly interrupted by the meeting room door swinging open rather violently. Startled, he slammed the book shut and leapt to his feet, falling into a defensive stance and readying his hands to transmute his automail blade before he recognised the intruder.

"For fuck's sake, Mustang! Don't do that!" Edward exclaimed, relaxing out of his stance and glaring at his commanding officer. He could see James standing behind Mustang, clearly ready to remove the older man if Ed asked him to, although he looked nervous about possibly having to lay hands on another of the hotel's guests. Mustang's expression, however, was a strange mixture of angry, concerned, and relieved. Edward wasn't as confused by Mustang's reaction as he ordinarily would have been, not after what the colonel had admitted before they'd gone to sleep, but he knew that he was most likely in for a lecture. When Mustang lectured, it lasted for a while, as he well knew from lots of previous experience.

So, before the lecture could begin, Ed pre-empted it by addressing James. "James, it's okay. He's my boss, and I can handle him." Edward smiled at the clerk, who looked relieved that he wouldn't need to step in and help. Nodding, the older man turned and headed back for the relative safety of the desk. As soon as he was out of the room, Mustang had the door shut and had turned back to face Edward.

"Before you start your lecture – "

"I'm not going to lecture you, Ed," Mustang interrupted, shaking his head.

Ed's eyes widened in surprise. "You're not?" He knew his tone was a little incredulous. Mustang had never before turned down an opportunity to lecture or gloat, unexpected heart-felt confessions aside. Maybe he wasn't feeling well?

"No, I'm not." Mustang moved towards a chair and sat down. Edward took the hint and followed his commander's lead, choosing the chair next to Mustang, still feeling a little startled at not being lectured. "I know you had a nightmare last night. You woke me up when you woke up."

Edward flushed a little. He hated showing any sort of weakness in front of people. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

Now it was Mustang's turn to be surprised. Ed rarely apologised to anyone whose name wasn't Alphonse. He barely even said sorry to Winry or his teacher. In fact, Mustang could count the number of times Edward had ever apologised to him on one hand with fingers to spare.

Edward smirked at the shocked look on his superior's face. "Don't look so surprised. I do know how to say sorry."

Mustang mentally shook himself out of his surprise. "Obviously, but you don't need to apologise. Well, not for waking me, anyway. I'd honestly prefer you to wake me if you ever have another nightmare. I'm not going to pretend to know what your nightmares are like, what with everything you've seen and done, but I do know what it's like to have nightmares that would drive anyone into insomnia. I also know what it means to just have someone there who understands. After the Ishval War, Maes and I both got used to a lot of middle of the night phone calls from each other until we found ways to cope with them by ourselves. You don't need to go through this alone. And don't think for a second that I'd ever use this against you in the future," Mustang added, pointing a stern finger at Edward. He knew the kid didn't like showing weakness and he also knew that was mainly because he was afraid that Mustang would use it to make fun of him, the same way he did with Edward's sensitivity about his height. Mustang was willing to admit that he could be a bastard at times, but there were just some things that you never use against people.

"You murdered my best friend! You may not have pulled the trigger but you might as well have! Maes is dead because of you!"

The accusations from his nightmare rang in Edward's head as Mustang spoke. He knew the words were only born from his deepest anxieties and fears, but he couldn't help but flinch when Mustang pointed at him. He'd been having nightmares for so long, shaking himself free of the hold they had on him wouldn't be an easy prospect, assuming that such a thing was even possible. But he'd never one expected Mustang to actually request that Ed wake him up whenever he had a nightmare.

Mustang took his confused silence to mean that Edward agreed, so he continued with the second part of his little speech. "Also, never take off like that again without telling me. I expected you might've needed to take a walk but I expected you to be back relatively quickly, especially since we're in a country completely different from ours. I thought you might've decided to do something idiotic like hunt Harding down yourself." Mustang smirked at the look on Ed's face at his last words.

"Hey! I'm not that stupid!" Ed protested.

"Have you forgotten about when you baited Scar in Central to lure out the homunculi? Or when you, Alphonse, and Ling fought Gluttony in the forest and you got yourself eaten? Your track record doesn't exactly speak for itself."

Edward huffed in protest, but knew he really couldn't defend himself. It honestly wouldn't have been the first time he actively sought out someone who might try to kill him on sight. But still! He scowled in annoyance at his inability to come up with a good defense. Mustang still had that damned smirk on his face.

"So, are we in agreement? You'll wake me up when you have nightmares, and you'll at least tell me where you're going and when you'll be back?" Mustang asked, barely managing to mask the pleading tone from his voice. He had been so worried when the blond hadn't come back to the room after an hour, and he knew damn well why. It wasn't solely because of Ed's remarkable ability to attract trouble no matter where he was. He just knew that Maes was laughing at him from beyond the grave.

The panic he'd felt when Ed hadn't returned to the room had been exactly the same as the one time he'd babysat Elysia for Gracia and she'd managed to disappear from his sight. The relief he'd felt when he'd found Ed in this room was exactly the same as the relief he'd felt when he'd found Elysia curled up on a blanket in her mother's closet. He also knew that Ed would probably deck him with his automail fist and yell at him if he ever found out just how much Roy cared about him. He knew it was irrational to worry about Ed every time the younger alchemist was out of his sight. Fullmetal was unbelievably strong and incredibly smart, even more so than Roy himself, not that he'd ever admit that to the blond. The gloating would never end. But at the same time, he couldn't help but worry about the Elric brothers. Ed's voice broke his train of thought.

"Fine, but only if you do the same. If you have to go somewhere, you need to tell me too. Equivalent exchange." Edward's eyes and tone of voice left zero room for argument, not that Roy would have actually protested. It was only fair after all.

"Deal. Now how about we head back to our room and try to get some more sleep?" Roy asked, standing up, noting that Ed again copied his movements.

"Okay. I know sleep is more important the older you are." Ed smirked, knowing that Mustang wouldn't be able to resist the bait.

"I am not old, shrimp!" Mustang retorted.

"Don't make me punch you in the face, Mustang," Edward threatened, but there was no malice in his voice.

"Can you even reach that high?" Mustang couldn't help but laugh at him as he skirted out of Ed's punching range.

"Why don't you come over here and we'll find out, old man?" Ed growled at him, gathering up his borrowed books. Mustang declined that challenge, instead holding the door open to let Edward through since the blond's arms were occupied.

Edward accidentally trod on Mustang's foot with his automail leg as he passed him. "Oops, my bad," he taunted while Mustang hopped on one foot, cursing. Laughing to himself, Edward returned to the front desk to give the borrowed books back to James, who seemed pleased to see him still in one piece. "Thanks for lending me these."

James took the box and stowed them away. "My pleasure. I'm glad you and your boss were able to sort things out."

"Yeah, no need to worry. I can kick his ass any day of the week," Ed laughed as he turned away from James with a half wave and made his way to intercept Mustang. They were just about to head up to their room when they suddenly found themselves facing an irritated Morgan and a relieved looking JJ.

"Where were you two?" Morgan demanded but immediately cut both of them off before they could answer. "Never mind. Go back to your room and finish getting dressed. Be back here in no more than five minutes."

"Wait, why? What happened?" Mustang asked.

"I got a call from Rossi. Harding killed someone less than ten minutes ago. And he was spotted running from the scene this time."

A/N - So chap 7 has been revised for you lovely people! I haven't heard from anyone wanting it so I've decided against reposting my original story as a separate story. It is up on AO3 if you want to read the original version though :) Let me know what you think to this revision!