Roy didn't get much sleep that night, and it seemed that Ed rested just as well. Once he had fallen asleep, Roy had tried to put him to bed so he could go get some sleep himself, but Edward had awakened with a cry and held on even tighter, and Roy didn't have the heart to leave him alone like that. So he propped himself against the headrest and held the child. As his first night without Alphonse or the aid of tranquilizers, Ed slept lightly and fitfully in Roy's arms.

The night was a vicious cycle of nightmares. Ed would seem to be deep enough in sleep for Roy to relax and nod off, then, in what seemed like moments, he would bolt upright, demanding to know where he was, or telling the demons in his mind to get away from him, or sometimes he would gasp as if something had suddenly jolted him awake and lay there stiff and silent. Each time it didn't take much for Roy to calm him down and get him back to sleep again, but the routine left Roy exhausted and bleary-eyed by the time morning came. He faintly wondered how he could possibly maintain this kind of sleeping arrangement for any length of time.

Not only that, but the next day Ed would have to be ready to give his account to Hawkeye and Havoc. There was no way this would go well, and Roy was completely at a loss on how to prepare him for it.

So while Ed was upstairs readying himself for the day, Roy placed a call. After a secretary putting him on hold, he was greeted by a familiar, chipper voice.

"Doctor Silas speaking!"

"Jim, It's Roy," he said, leaning back against the counter.

"Roy!" Silas greeted as if they were good friends and not bound together by Ed's terrible predicament. "I thought I'd have to call myself to schedule Ed's next appointment! Does next Thursday work? What time do you guys want me?"

Roy sighed. "It's not that. I have a favor to ask."

Apparently sensing Roy's trepidation, Silas dampened his enthusiasm just a bit. "Well, any way I can help, just ask!" For him, 'dampened' was chipper, with just a touch of apprehension.

Roy glanced through the living room archway to make sure Ed hadn't come downstairs. "We've reached a dead-end in Ed's case. We can't go on without further information, and we have to get it from Ed. We are to debrief him in my home tomorrow night, eight thirty. It would give me peace of mind for a doctor to be there."

Silas was quiet for a moment, as if deep in thought. "I'm not the kind of doctor you need, Roy." It wasn't said unkindly, but it piqued Roy's frustration with the whole situation.

He fought to reign in a sharp retort. "I know that. We were unable to make it to his psychiatrist appointment yesterday because I can't get him out of the house without him having some sort of breakdown! I can't just call in someone he doesn't know to sit in on this, Jim. Edward wouldn't have it. You're the best we have."

"Did you try the sedatives?"

Anger coiled in his gut, but Roy had the sense to know it wasn't directed at Silas, so he took a deep, steadying breath before continuing. "I can't make him take those. I tried it once. It didn't go well."

Silas seemed to understand. "Alright, Roy. I can be there. But to warn you, I only know enough psychology to make conversation interesting. My fallback will be the drugs. If you had a real psychologist there, there could be other, friendlier methods of calming him down."

Roy closed his eyes. "I understand. I'll take all of the help I can get at this point."

"Alright, excellent!" he said, as if he had just advised Roy on a good recipe and not Ed's wellbeing. Roy wasn't sure if it soothed or annoyed him. "I assume there will be a time for his examination that same evening? It's a little early, but better early than the two of you putting it off, eh?"

"That will be fine."

"Very good! Well, I'll be on the lookout for a psychiatrist that will make house calls. I think I know just the man . . . ah, of course! Well, the both of you take care! I'll be there tomorrow!"

"Thank you."

Roy hung up and walked away from the conversation with a bit of relief. As cowardly as it was, there was comfort in having some of the responsibility lifted from his shoulders.

Before he could make it all the way back up the stairs, the phone rang again. He hurried to his room to answer it, passing Edward's open bedroom door on the way. He peeked inside quickly, finding him well and listening intently, frozen in the middle of pulling on a sweater. "Mustang?" he asked tentatively. Roy wasn't sure if he was asking if that was him at the door or what the sound was.

"Phone," he responded, answering both questions at once. He left the doorway and managed to snag the phone from his nightstand on the fifth ring.

"Mustang," he said into the receiver.

"Colonel?" Alphonse's tinny voice filtered through.

He felt his eyes widen in surprise. "Alphonse," he breathed. "Where are you?" He honestly didn't mean to sound as harsh as he probably did, but just hearing the kid's voice made him suddenly realize he'd been worried about him. Going to Xing was no small matter, and he was just a boy. Granted, a boy bound to a very large and intimidating suit of armor, but there were plenty of things that Roy thought worth worrying about.

"I'm at the border," he answered guiltily, a hint of hysteria creeping into his voice. Apparently he was afraid he was being chastised. "I would have called sooner, but the phone at the last station was out, and if I had stopped to look for another phone, I would have missed my connecting train! I'm sorry, Colonel!"

"It's alright, Alphonse," Roy responded placatingly. "It's just . . . it's good to hear from you."

"Is everything okay there?"

Roy thought how best to respond to that. "Everything is as well as can be expected . . ."

Hurried, haphazard steps thumped down the hallway and Ed came barreling in, blanket trailing behind him like wings. "Is that Al?" he asked, voice laced with desperation. He hobbled into Roy's bedroom, hitting the doorframe with a grunt and almost slamming his hip against the nightstand before Roy snagged his elbow and guided him away from it.

"Hang on, Alphonse," he said into the phone. "Easy, Fullmetal! You're going to hurt yourself!"

"It is Al! Let me talk to him, Mustang!" he begged, bleached eyes wide and hungry as he clawed at Mustang's arm, searching frantically for the phone at the other end.

"Alright, alright!" Roy said, doing his best to hold Ed off and keep the phone in his hand. "Alphonse? I'm going to put your brother on. I'll talk to you when he's done."

"Okay, thank you, sir!" Al said, sounding almost as eager as Ed did.

Roy gently put the phone in Ed's hand. "Al?" Ed whispered into the receiver. Roy took his elbow and guided him to sit on the edge of the bed before he seriously injured himself.

Roy couldn't make out any of what Alphonse said, but Ed's face seemed to drain of all tension as he listened. His eyes softened and his mouth quirked into the barest ghost of a smile. Roy hadn't seen him look this at peace since Alphonse had been there. It was like watching years melt off of the boy, leaving a child in their wake.

"I'm fine, Al," he said softly. "I've been doing better the past couple of days, actually," he lied, completely oblivious to the stern glance Roy sent his way. "Where are you?"

His brother's response made just a touch of darkness taint his visage. "Al . . . Al, I really don't think this is a good idea. There are a million things that could go wrong in the desert all by yourself." He paused to listen, expression growing even more disturbed. "Yeah, I know we've gone through the desert before, but never outside of the country. This is different."

Ed brought his legs up under his chin, looking all the world like he was using them to hold himself together. His eyes closed and he drew in a ragged breath as he listened. "Yeah, I know," he admitted. "I know, I just . . . I wish I was there with you."

Roy felt something inside of him twist at that.

"I know. Okay . . . Al, be careful, okay? Don't forget to oil your joints and keep your armor clean. And call as soon as you find another phone, okay?" Maybe it was Roy's imagination, but it sounded like the boy's throat was closing. "Okay, I'll put him back on. Bye, Al."

Ed held out the phone, either uncaring or oblivious to where Roy was standing. Roy had to step around him to retrieve it, putting it to his ear once more. "Alphonse," he said, sitting next to Ed.

"Sir, is he really doing better?" Al asked, voice somehow sounding skeptical and hopeful at the same time.

Roy hesitated, turning to look at Ed. The boy was listening, that much was evident, and his hearing was much better than Roy's, so he was probably catching every word from both sides of the conversation.

He could tell Alphonse the truth and tell him that the past two days had been long and painful. He could tell him about having to drug Ed, and how he had held Ed all night just so the poor kid could get some sleep between his nightmares. He could tell him his brother missed his psychiatrist appointment because he was too afraid to go out the front door. He could tell him that he wasn't eating like he should, and he could tell him that everything was about to get a whole lot worse.

Or he could lie and tell Alphonse that Ed was doing better. He could put Al's mind just a bit at ease, when he would be out of touch for weeks as he crossed the desert, and by extension, ease Ed's guilty conscience somewhat.

Roy decided that sometimes lying was a kindness.

"He may be improving a bit," he said smoothly. Beside him, Ed relaxed minimally and turned away from Roy, rolling onto his side to face the wall. Roy frowned a bit, but said nothing about it.

"That's so good to hear!" Alphonse said excitedly. Really, any improvement would have been a relief, and Roy wished he wasn't lying. "Has he been taking all of his medicine? You know he can tell which pills are the sleep aids and the pain meds now. He'll take them out and hide them if he doesn't want them."

Roy tossed Ed's back an irritated look. That just figured. "He had a long night last night and we both honestly forgot about his medication, but I'll be sure he gets all of his pills this evening," Roy promised. He kept going before Al could properly admonish him. "When are you scheduled to arrive in Xing?"

"I'm not sure," Alphonse answered with a tinge of unease. "According to my maps, it might take me as long as four weeks, even though I don't have to stop for anything. The sand will slow me down, but I'll be moving as fast as I can. Maybe I can cut off a few days if I hurry."

"Don't do anything stupid, Alphonse," Roy warned. "Take all the time you need to be careful."

"Yes, sir," Al responded immediately. "I will. I'm not impulsive like Brother."

Roy's lip quirked at that. No one was as impulsive as Fullmetal. "And I want you to call as soon as you get there, and not a second later, understand?"

"Yes, I understand." He paused. "Thank you for taking care of Brother."

Roy felt his insides twinge. "Be safe, Alphonse."

"Thank you, sir. I'll call when I can."

"Good." Roy wanted to say more, but he didn't know what. "Goodbye, Alphonse."

Alphonse paused like he'd wished Roy would say more, too. "Goodbye, Colonel."

Roy hung up the phone and sighed. "Well, Ed, let's go get you some breakfast. I've got some research I want to get started on before . . . Ed?" The boy wasn't moving or even seeming to be listening to him. Had he fallen asleep?

Roy got to his feet and walked to the other side of the bed to get a good look at him. He was staring ahead with red eyes, his blank gaze pained as tears streamed down his face.

Alarmed, Roy leaned in closer. "Ed, what's wrong?" he demanded, putting a hand on the boy's automail shoulder.

As expected, Ed flinched, but it was more reflexive than anything. "Nothing," he responded thickly, bringing up a flesh hand to rub his face. "Nothing, I'm fine."

Roy frowned, completely ignoring Ed's claim. "Come on, Ed, do your injuries hurt? I know you haven't had your pain medication since yesterday morning. Or is it your eyes? Do they sting?" Was he supposed to get eye drops or something? Roy hadn't even thought to ask Alphonse about anything aside from his typical pills. If so, then he was long overdue them. Didn't Alphonse make him a list? Maybe it was buried in his research spread across the coffee table. "Ed, you're going to have to help me. I don't know what all you're supposed to be getting."

Ed didn't say anything to that, so Roy pulled the boy's medical bag out from under his bed and began going through its contents. He'd get Silas to make him a checklist or something the next day, but for now, he supposed he needed to figure it out on his own. "Ed, I need some help here."

"Eye drops. Twice a day. Should be in the bag."

Roy scowled. "You need to tell me these things, Ed! How am I supposed to help you keep up with them if I don't even know?" He found two different bottles, one for pain and one to relax the ocular muscles. "Which one?"

"Both."

Roy took them then moved to sit on the bed above Ed. He gently put his hands on the sides of the child's face and tilted his head up and back, Ed's thin cheekbones digging into his fingertips. Ed grimaced, neck tightening as if to pull away, but he held still as tears continued to drip down his cheeks and took a shuddering breath.

Either he was in a great deal of pain, or something else was wrong.

"Here's the first couple," Roy announced, holding the bottle over a pale, scarred eye. Roy hadn't really been this close to them before. It was like looking into a murky pool, the once brilliant gold dulled into something stagnant and desolate. It was disorienting staring into them, remembering when they once used to be so bright and animated, now lifeless and detached.

Just like Ed.

Ed gritted his teeth and nodded and Roy returned his focus. The drops fell like bright crystals from the dropper and splashed against its watery surface. Ed gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, pulling away. "Not yet, Ed," Roy said quietly, pulling his head back to him again as carefully as he could. "Does it hurt?"

Ed shook his head, but his expression said otherwise.

"You know, it's not very smart to lie when you can't keep the truth off your face."

"Shut up, Mustang," Ed said, but there was no fire in it. Just a weak, choked sort of plea.

Roy frowned. "Ed," he began slowly. "It's okay to miss your brother."

Ed kept his eyes shut, but his brows raised just a bit in surprise, then frowned deeper. Roy had apparently hit the correct sore spot. "Shut up. Not right now, Mustang." His eyes gradually blinked open again. "Hurry."

Roy knew that tone well enough. He was struggling with a flashback or a panic attack. If his voice didn't give it away, the way his chest was heaving should have. "You've got to open your eyes more, kid," Roy said, and Ed tried, but he kept screwing them shut every time Roy's hand drew near. "I'm going to help you, okay?" he said, lifting a hand to help pry open the other eye.

"No!" Ed hissed, jerking away and covering his eyes with his hands. "No, no, don't touch them!"

Roy froze. Was he slipping? Did he even know Roy was there anymore? "Ed?" he tried softly.

Slowly, Ed's breathing became less erratic. His chest moved almost mechanically as he quieted, inhaling, holding, then exhaling in trained, practiced movements. When he finally spoke, his voice was thin and shaky. "They . . . they held my eyes open. When they poured acid in them." He eased himself up on an elbow, flesh hand still covering his eyes, but Roy could make out the slack, numb expression between his fingers. "That was the last thing I saw . . . the last time . . ." he stopped, as if catching himself. "Just . . . just don't touch them, okay?"

Roy's insides went cold. Ed never spoke of his time in Drachma, never volunteering information to him or Alphonse or anyone else. It made the revelation all the more jarring and unsettling. Ed's initial medical analysis had told them that Ed had lost his sight from acid burns, but to hear how it had happened . . . well, that was something else.

"I won't touch them," he promised, his own voice sounding thick even to himself. "If you lie back down, we can finish."

Ed nodded, then paused. "Do you think . . . can we do it sitting up? It's just that . . . I don't think I can lie down right now. They'd strap me to a table . . . " His breathing took off again, like he'd been running for miles. "To the table . . . the table the table . . ." His hand shook and reached for his neck. "No more . . . no more don't touch me."

"Edward," Roy said, inserting as much authority as he could muster into the command. Ed jumped, head twisting to listen with surprised eyes. Roy had his undivided attention and didn't dare move, lest he startle the boy into a full-blown flashback. "Get a hold of yourself. Are you still with me?"

Ed offered a wide-eyed, mute nod.

"I'm going to stand up and come to you," Roy informed, doing so as he spoke. "Now, tilt your head back. That's it, now I'm going to put in the eye drops. I know they sting, just try to keep your eyes open for me." Ed did well holding his sore eyes open as Roy finished off his medication. "Now," he said, screwing the caps on the bottles and throwing them back in the bag. "We're going downstairs, and I'm going to make breakfast and give you your medication. You're going to sit at the table until you finish every last scrap on your plate, understand?"

Ed held his blanket tightly around him and nodded, wiping his eyes on the corners of the fabric. Roy got a hand under his elbow and pulled him forward. He didn't say a word as they made it all the way to the landing, and Roy was growing concerned. "So, want to tell me what's on your mind?" he asked, guiding him to the first step. "Stairs now."

Ed felt forward with his bare flesh foot to find the drop, then stepped down with Roy. Roy wished he could get the boy to wear a sock on his foot, but being denied his primary sense, he said he needed to feel the floor under him to know where he was, so Roy allowed him to keep his feet bare despite the freezing weather and his appalling body weight that made keeping him warm very difficult.

"Nothing," was the only answer he got.

"Ed—"

"Fine, it's nothing I want to talk about," he elaborated, frowning with mild irritation. "Just drop it."

Roy decided to keep silent. Clearly it had to do with Alphonse's absence, and clearly Ed wasn't in the mood to talk about it, so Roy would save it for later. "What do you want to eat?" he asked, parking Ed in a chair and moving into the kitchen.

"I don't care," Ed said, picking up his legs and propping them on the seat in front of him, chin resting on top. Roy didn't like it. It made him look too young and too helpless somehow. That wasn't how Edward Elric was supposed to look. "I'm not hungry."

Of course he wasn't. "You were ravenous just a few days ago, and now you won't eat anything," Roy pointed out irritably, pulling out a carton of eggs. "Why is that?"

"It's nothi—"

"I know, it's nothing," Roy interrupted, putting a pan on the stove as he felt his frustration mount and start a dull ache somewhere behind his eyeballs. Why was it that the kid could make nothing easy?!

Ed made a pained face before his expression crumbled into something else even more vulnerable. "You don't have to be a jerk, Mustang," he muttered, hugging himself.

Roy instantly felt guilty. "Sorry," he offered lamely. "You're right, I'm sorry." He sighed, cracking eggs into the skillet and watching Ed to make sure he didn't react poorly to the sound, feeling like a jerk and worse.

Ed just grunted an acknowledging response and said nothing.

Well, Roy had to tell him sometime.

"I've got some bad news," he announced, then cringed with how he had said it. Bad news? How was Ed supposed to react with a set up like that?

Ed cringed, too. Roy could practically hear him wondering what else could possibly go wrong at this point. Then his expression quirked into something hard and cynical. "Lucky me. What is it?"

Roy watched the eggs cook and tried to think of a gentle way to tell him. Nothing came to him, though. "Well, tomorrow evening the team is coming to discuss some . . . work matters."

"I'll just wait upstairs," Ed said tersely, voice laced with apprehension. Just that was enough to make Ed uncomfortable.

"That's not all . . . tomorrow night I'll need your full report of your mission in Drachma."

What little color that was in the boy's face drained away entirely, leaving a wide-eyed ghost. "W-what?"

Roy left the eggs to cook for themselves and approached Ed, ever cautious of his hair-trigger. "Hey, come on, Ed, it won't be that bad. You just have to give me a summary, and then it'll be over with." That was a lie. They would need much more to put together anything of value, but how else could he possibly reassure him?

Ed looked like the shock would do him in. Every last trace of irritation was gone, evaporated like smoke. He looked fragile, like a shattered mirror that only needed a gentle touch to fall apart. "Mustang . . ." he breathed, wrapping his arms around his legs and holding himself. "Mustang . . . don't," he whispered. "Please don't."

Roy couldn't stand it when he begged like that.

"Edward," Roy said softly, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Ed flinched violently away from it and continued to plea as if he hadn't been interrupted at all. "Please no, please don't . . . please no . . ."

"Edward, stay with me," Roy urged, replacing his hand and gripping Ed's shoulder tightly.

Ed jumped, but this time he reached up to wrap a hand around Roy's sleeve. Some of the clarity seemed to return to his gaze, but it was tinged with apprehension. "Mustang?"

"Right here, kid. Just stay with me, okay? Nothing's going to happen, I promise."

Ed shifted in his seat, sidling closer to Roy. "You're real, right? You're real and they're not?"

Roy wasn't sure what exactly was going on in Ed's volatile mind, but he wasn't going to strain him further asking for clarification. "That's right, Ed," he agreed, his other arm instinctively slipping around the boy's frail shoulders in a protective embrace. "That's right."

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding breathless as he buried his head in Roy's side so he could use his real hand to hold his throat. "I'm sorry, what were we talking about?"

Roy's own breathing faltered.

"It . . . it was nothing."

Ed remembered some time later.

Roy couldn't take it back that time.


EDIT: Before I forget, in your reviews, would you mind telling me stuff that you would like to see come up in Ed's debriefing? I know what happened and all, and I want to keep my rating where it is haha xD I just kind of want some ideas to jump-start things, you know? I feel like I've got that "master's blindness" where I already know everything that happens, so I forget what everyone else doesn't know. So what would you want to know about his time in Drachma that you don't already know? C:

This chapter gave me fits. Ugh lol. Oh well, I still enjoyed it, anyhow. I'm not sure if I like all of it, but I enjoyed it.

That makes no sense. I am fully aware xD

Oh my gosh, these past couple of weeks have been insane. School needs to end. Right. Now.

To add to the insanity, I'm having one of my old college professors and his wife over for dinner at my place in a couple of days. They had me and a friend over to their house once a couple of years ago and made this super-fancy pintrest meal, and now I feel like I have to go all Betty Crocker over here.

I can barely heat up a bowl of soup. I ruin toast, guys. And my house is a mess . . .This should be interesting.

It seems like every time I post, my house is a wreck xD I promise I clean things regularly. I just like to update my fan fiction first ;D Priorities, people.

Next chapter should prove challenging . . . and interesting . . . xD

I ramble. Anyways, I know I haven't responded to reviews on "Like a Dog" or even on that InuYasha fic I posted several months ago :'D I shall get to that soon! Maybe not before summer . . . but summer is soon, right? TELL ME THAT SUMMER IS SOON.

Ahem. I need a nap now.

Hope you enjoyed! Drop a review if you have the time, and I'll see you next chapter c:

God Bless,

-RainFlame