Ed may seem a little OC in this chapter, but it was mostly on purpose.

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When I get out of here, I'm never saying "sir" again. Everytime the Sergeant said anything, all nine of us had to say "Yes, Sir!" as loud as we could. The yelling was kind of fun at first but it got old really fast.

Today we had to learn how to make a bed the 'military' way and wax the floors and stuff. It was almost all stuff I could've done with alchemy in seconds, but alchemy isn't allowed. It doesn't matter anyway though. It's all stuff I can do easily, plus once we get to the physical part it should be easy for me to get through this. I'm in better shape than any of these other guys plus I've been in a lot more fights and stuff.

Oh, and I've already nickamed the Drill Sergeant "Sergeant BootFace" because he was going around looking at the way everyone was wearing their shoes. He got mad at me for not tucking my pant legs into them and for tying a sloppy knot but I was so sleepy I didn't really care when he made me fix it, but it's really uncomfortable having all that extra fabric crammed around my legs. How am I supposed to run like this? Who the hell designed this uniform? It's worse than the officers' uniform!

"I'm worried about him. What if this breaks him? This is the reason my family never allowed me to join until I was twenty-six. Once you get used to respecting rank and following military prodecure, it's OK being here until there's a war but the preliminary training is brutal. I guess I thought there must be something wrong with him since it didn't seem to affect him. No wonder, afterall he never did it."

I HATE this place! It's not my fault I haven't gotten tall yet and I can't take huge steps like the rest of the patoon! Great...just 'cause the other guys are all taller than me, tomorrow after training we all have to clean the barn. It's about half a mile from here and I can sort of see it and Dorian (the tallest guy here) said there's supposed to be two hundred horses in it.

As soon as I'm out of here, I want to go take Al back to Risembool or something. It's wearing on my nerves how the Sergeant is always screaming and yelling at me and I'm tired of yelling at him, no matter how much it helps to keep myself under control sometimes.

"I wonder how he's doing now. I have no way of knowing, seeing as the colonel didn't see fit to send someone to keep an eye on him. I want to know if he's written in the journal and what he's writing. It's been five days since I dropped him off. Is he still stubborn? Is he bending under the strain or is he just pretending to? I didn't realize this was going to hurt me as much as it is or maybe I wouldn't have told him there was no way out."

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"April ninth, year fifteen," Colonel Mustang murmured as he dated his report. He put it in a rectangular wire basket on the floor next to his desk which was for papers that needed to be sent to other people. Namely, his superiors.

He surveyed the rest of the work on his desk, trying to decide what to take care of next. As he reached for a report that had come in yesterday from the East HQ, he heard he sudden orchestra of doors slamming, feet running, chairs being upset, people yelling, someone yelling louder and someone shouting. He stood and as he reached for the doorkob, the door opened and smacked him in the face.

"I'm so sorry, Sir!" Fuery half-wailed to be heard over the noise in the adjoining office.

"What the hell is going on?" Roy demanded.

"Uh, Edward's here," Fuery said. Roy frowned and stepped into the chaos.

Breda was picking up chairs that had been knocked over when Ed had run into the office while both Jean and Riza tried to pick Ed up at the same time. The boy was crying for all he was worth and his face was red and ugly and pitiful. He got a hold on Riza's sleeve and refused to let go but Jean was insisting that his superior allow him to take Ed and calm him down because in his frantic state of mind, he might hurt Hawkeye.

Roy addressed Hawkeye with a sharp, "Lieutenant! Please report now!" and left Jean with Ed.

"Sir, is it necessary to be in your office?"

"I can't hear you over Ed," Roy said as he shut the door.

"Oh."

"What?"

"You would like me to report, Sir?"

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"Very well. Edward has escaped his Drill Sergeant and is very upset. He wants to be held and he wants to speak to you."

"That's it?" Roy asked.

"Can you understand him?" Riza raised her eyebrow. Roy laughed.

"Careful, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Sir."

"Does he want to talk to me now?"

"Uhm," Riza glanced at the door. "It's hard to say."

"Very well, Lieutenant. Please try to calm him down and then I will come speak with him."

"Yes, Sir!" Riza stepped smartly out of the room. Roy groaned and put his head in his hands. Was having FullMetal under him really worth all the trouble the kid caused? His patoon leader would be here any minute to look for him. And punish him in some way too.

"Ed! If you don't stop taking swings at me, I'll- umf, resort to drastic- EDWARD!"

"I'm not (hic!) taking swings," Ed sobbed, jumping and trying to grab Jean's shoulder with the hand the man wasn't holding.

"Hang ON." Jean let go of Ed's wrist, put his hands on Ed's waist and hefted him over his shoulder. Ed started to kick and Jean irritably swatted him, effectively stopping the kicks. Instead, Ed tried to get away, squirming with all his energy but keeping his legs still.

Jean set him on the couch with all the gentility of a bull in a china shop and wrapped his jacket around Ed. Having the boy somewhat contained within the jacket, Jean left him on the couch to raid the emergency supplies cupboard.

Returning with water and sugar cookies, Jean sat on the couch and pulled Ed onto his lap. Edward allowed Jean Havoc to feed him one sugar cookie before deciding that Jean's arrangement was not dignified and struggling to sit upright in his lap. After drinking some water, the alchemist was quite a bit calmer and Jean smoothed the hair off his face.

"So. Tell me what happened."

Ed's face darkened with rage," Everyone's taller than me! It's not my fault I can't keep up and the Sergenat is always screaming at me and everyone else hates me because when I screw up, they all get in trouble, too! And when they made us practice going through a jungle, the pack they gave me weighed as much as I do!"

Jean opened his mouth and Ed yelped a furious, indignant, "I'm not exaggerating!" in Jean's face.

"It hurt and I have raw spots on my shoulders from the straps because they were too long so mine didn't even fit right!"

"Oh, baby," Jean commiserated with Ed who yelled, "I am not a baby!"

"No, you're not. That's just what I used to say to my little sister when she was upset. She's eighteen and it still works on her."

Ed didn't answer, but he let Jean hug him for a moment until he realized Hawkeye was standing in front of the couch staring at them.

Ed squeaked and glared at her and Jean looked back to see why.

"See? I got him calmed down a little."

"May I report that information to the Colonel, Edward?" she asked softly.

"...You're not going to make fun of me, are you?" Ed glanced up at her. Even he realized he was acting quite childish but he was hoping no one here would give him a hard time about it. Except maybe the bastard colonel, but-

"No, Ed." She kissed him on the forehead, which caused Ed to blush and squirm and look at Jean and then pointedly not look at Jean and then look at Riza as he entered Mustang's office.

"Awww, was that your first kiss?"

THWACK!

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"Why didn't you just transmute the straps on your pack, if I may ask?" Roy wanted to know as Ed sat sulking in Jean's lap as the lieutenant smeared zinc oxide on the raw spots on his back and shoulders, using one hand to keep Ed's shirt out of the way.

"I did," Ed told him firmly. "Sergeant Bootface hit me and made me undo-" Ed stopped when he realized Roy was trying not to laugh.

"What?" he demanded.

"Who is, ahe, Sgt. 'BootFace' ?" Roy could hardly control himself. It wasn't so much that the name was all that funny so much as the way Ed said it. As if it were the man's real name.

"Uh, his name is Abble I think."

Roy cracked up. "I can't tell which is worse, his name or your nickname for him."

Ed grinned, some of his tension fading as Roy let of his own for a moment.

After that moment had passed though, Roy let his laughter die so he could ask, "Where did he hit you?"

Ed titled his head up and tapped a slightly bruised section of his lower jaw.

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Just to clear up any confusion, I thought I'd just put in these author notes that the reason the Sgt won't allow him to use alchemy is because that would kind of make it unfair or too easy for him. No matter how small he is, he's supposed to learn to cope without alchemy.