Edward Elric felt empty inside.

It reminded him of how he had often felt in his years alone with only two rabbits to guard and one contact with the outside world. Of those times when he would indulge in just a little bit of alcohol, because even just a sip was enough to give him that buzz and let him get on with it. He stared at the wall on the other side of the stifling, dark compartment and sighed at the oak panelled walls. For a moment, he thought he was back in Paul Duncan's office, sitting on that stupid overly stuffed chair the man saved just for him. And then, almost gratefully he remembered he wasn't, he was in the depths of a ship stuck in a vacuum and suspended like an instrument of doom over a black smoke cloud in the atmosphere of Mars. He still couldn't remember much of the journey back to the transport, back to the ship, nor of Hughes' gushing over the motorcycle he had brought back with him. He had retreated straight to his room, to the mat in its centre and now he lay there, curled up tightly with only his head peeking out of the circle. The wall had a wooden knot on it about level with his eyes. It wasn't a particularly attractive one.

Down There. Winry had been down There. It should have been an easy mission with no name people, wasn't that why Mustang had let him take it in the first place? But she had changed all that, hadn't she? She'd just had to be difficult and be there. That blast might have killed her, he was hoping that they'd been far enough away from the blast when he let it off. It was meant to be a confined explosion anyway. But he might have killed her and it didn't hurt as much as it should have, which was what made him feel guilty and horribly, horribly empty. He winced his eyes closed as he heard his door open.

There was a gentle hand in his hair, smoothing out the knots. His eyes shot open in an instant, head snapping around to see Roy Mustang, grim and stony-faced smoothing down his hair like some mixture of father and friend. The fingers carded and brushed, and Edward tried to pull away, but the look Mustang sent him made him stop. Mustang knew how he felt, that much was obvious from the man's eyes alone. He attempted a glare, but his face didn't feel up to working today.

Mustang looked like he appreciated the effort at least. The man's skin seemed to glow in the poorly lit room, the pale complexion that all the avians had making him seem like such a contrast, black on a great expanse of white. Edward wondered briefly where the comparison had come from, and made a small confused noise.

Mustang merely smirked that damn smirk, trying to establish some sort of normalcy in the scene. When it didn't come, he frowned, and opened his mouth to speak.

Edward beat him to it. "Don't." he said. "Don't give me any of your damn truths, Mustang, because I don't want to hear them." His feet were flicking slightly and he stopped them.

"This is war, Edward. They would have killed you, no second thoughts, no regrets. Point blank, looking in your eyes, it doesn't matter the circumstance. They hate us, we hate them. It's the way it works." The fibres of the regulation mat were coarse on Edward's skin. "Princess..."

"What did I just say?" Edward demanded, jerking away from those hands. "I don't want any of your truths. I just don't. Stop talking. Stop it." He fought back the heat burning at his eyes. "Stop it."

Mustang drew his head back gently, coaxing Edward out of the curled up position he was in. The hand returned to his hair, soft, cool and gentle, a contrast to the person who owned it. Edward didn't have the strength to fight. "If I could, I would make it so that none of this had happened."

The fingers in his hair gently tugged at a large tangle, and Edward gave a small snort. "I used to try and kill myself, you know." He said. "I used to go for the big knife block in the kitchen, just to one side of the table, and also for Nick's razor in the bathroom. No one never understood why, not even I did, but I used to go for them anyway."

The hands in his hair stilled in their petting and shook slightly. For a moment, Edward thought Mustang might say something, or at least comment on his stupidity, but the man remained quiet, leaving an awkward silence.

"It was an outlet of relief." Edward continued, trying to cover the gap. "I think I always knew I didn't really belong there and I would feel guilty for that and just... go for the knives. It was a spiral, really. I'd feel guilty, go for the knives and then feel even guiltier for the pain that I was bringing Nick and Ana as well. I knew it hurt them, and I couldn't stop myself in the end." He swallowed thickly and blinked, focusing his eyes on that ugly knot in the wall. It was like someone had opened a dam and now all the water was coming out. He couldn't stop talking, and Mustang was just being so damn quiet and attentive, the bastard. "Being adopted didn't help either. Ana and Nick didn't exactly hide the fact that I wasn't their child from me. They didn't give me their last name, after all. You don't know how stressful that can be."

He paused, and still, Mustang said nothing, but the hand in his hair started moving again, and Edward took it as a sign of encouragement, that the man knew this had to get out somewhere. "See, you're not an individual, you're part of a collective, one of every other person with your name out there. You're not an individual, and as strange as this sounds it makes you different, makes people look at you out of the corner of their eyes and hide their smiles behind their hands while they pretend to sympathise.'
"Ana and Nick wanted me to be called Gabriel."

Mustang did supply some input then. "But you said your name was Edward and didn't change your mind, when you learnt how to talk. Because that's a part of who you are, Edward. You are Edward Elric."

Edward gave a slightly watery laugh. "When I was six, Winry's parents died. I didn't understand until that moment that I wasn't like other orphans. I felt horrible when I realised that she still got to be Winry Rockbell, even though she was meant to be like me now. I was still just Ed, and she was Winry Rockbell. Why was she allowed to have her name still, when I wasn't? Why was I still the only one to have no identity? No individuality?" A hot tear trickled down his face, and he swiped at it furiously. "Ana and Nick didn't trust me, took all sharp objects away from me, and Winry still got her last name."

"Ana and Nick didn't want you taken away from them, Edward. You were their son."

It shouldn't have meant so much, wouldn't have, if it hadn't been Mustang who said it. "Winry was there, in that camp. I saw her look when she saw my wings. I felt the hatred there. Mustang, I betrayed her, I probably killed her! She was the only human I cared about who hadn't been fucked over by the humans and I betrayed her."

He heard Mustang's frown as the man spoke. "You wouldn't have had to if you weren't betrayed by the avians first. If we had done our duty..."

Edward whirled around and to his feet in an instant, looking down on the seated avian. "FUCK DUTY MUSTANG!" His hands came up, balled and defensive. "FUCK IT! I DON'T CARE! I couldn't care less for duty. Duty never did anything for me. DUTY KILLED MY PARENTS AND TURNED THEM INTO MONSTERS. I HATE it I hate it. And when I fight it, I only make it worse."

Mustang stood, and embraced him, taking him completely by surprise. He found himself wrapped in strong, warm arms, and a voice somewhere above him, sounding disturbingly choked said softly, "You can say all that, but you can't say my name?"

Edward stared for a moment at the black shirt he was being held in, before shoving away angrily. "Get away from me, you pervert."

Mustang smiled sadly, before leaving the room with a quiet, "As you wish, Edward."

He had the distinct feeling he'd failed the man somehow. Edward Elric sat down and attempted to puzzle it out.

Mustang frowned. That definitely had not gone to plan. The prince was still sulking, old wounds were becoming fresh and...

"Sir." Hawkeye's voice rang behind him. He turned; his smirk already fixed in place, and met her head on. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

His smirk grew exponentially as he shoved his hands into his pockets in a smug, yet elegant fashion. "I'm planning political conquest. Care to join?"

She glared at him. "You are a sick man, Mustang. That boy trusts you."

"What universe have you been in?" The man sighed as the woman moved on. "Trees above, he's my Only and I can't tell him."

Edward sat at the head of the long table, a bored and somewhat pained look on his face. It was another war meeting and Mustang currently had the floor. The man was making a solid attempt to kill them all with a strategical meeting to discuss possible battle plans in the war with the humans. So far, no one had posed any questions to the man, but Edward's need for clarification was slowly coming to light.

He felt that stab of fire in his chest again, and attempted to ignore it. As the Prince of the avians he was not expected to have feelings of any sort for humans. It was his duty to secure the avians victory.

"...And as such, the humans are regrouping, with an unexpected swell in numbers to the south of the training facility removed. This could possibly mean that they are planning another assault, therefore our best option is to attack now and cripple their forces before this can take place." The man finished, and Edward returned his attention to the present.

He looked up just in time to watch Alphonse glance at the large strategy map out of the corner of his eye. The young 'undiscovered prince' (As the populace was calling him) frowned. "Shouldn't we wait a while longer to see their intentions?" He asked with concern in his eyes.

"Negative." Hawkeye replied gently, her voice soft and subtle in the quiet room. "If we were to wait, the swelling in numbers would mean an overly large ground force, one that would prove much more difficult to take out." Her eyes grew dull. "Waiting at this stage would mean a massacre of our forces."

Mustang nodded. "Lisa is correct. We must strike now, in order to demolish their forces in one blow before they have a change to recuperate from the bombing." He frowned. "Their power has been destroyed, but at the rate they are moving, they will have it back online within a month."

Edward nodded slowly, the colour draining from his features. "This means that..."

Mustang frowned at him, his features becoming decidedly stony. "What it means is that due to the limited casualties of the bombing, only three were killed and only in the tower containing the largest blast, we must strike now. No delays."

Edward gritted his teeth and struggled against the swelling of his heart. He bit out, "What are our forces like in comparison?" His heart, however, soared. Winry hadn't been killed! Relief and joy washed over him in waves, but he was careful not to show them in a room full of Avians.

Cain Feury stood and filled him in with the answer. "We have less than one third of their might in numbers." He said, his voice shaking slightly. "However, due to the abilities of many of our generals, and the fire and telekinesis of our captain, overall power levels strike even." He sighed, sitting once more.

Alphonse licked his lips thoughtfully. "But now we have two 'Mind Manipulators.'" He smiled at Edward, and the prince gave him a grin in return. It would definitely tip the odds in their favour. "Which means that we can manipulate more humans at once. Edward and I.."

"Will sit this battle out." Mustang interrupted easily. "This fight is much too risky for the involvement of royal blood." He ignored the twin cries of protest. "The statistics simply don't merit you two risking yourselves."

Edward glared at him for a moment, before looking down at the map himself. The holographic design of the battlefield twinkled blue back at him, the 3D rendering frighteningly accurate.

"Mustang." He said, scanning his eyes over the terrain. "What if we put either Al or I here?" He gestured to a rocky outpost not fifty metres from the main human forces. "The brother that you don't use can travel with your party."

"I just said it was out of the question." Mustang replied, sounding highly put upon. "if the human forces were to establish your importance..."

"It won't matter." Edward shot back. "They won't see us. The brother in the outcropping will provide an illusion of a fleet of some thousand Avians flying in from the north, while the forces attack on foot from the south, the other brother cloaking them. The end result is confusion within the Earth forces, and probably an eventual panic in which our control can be easily gained."

"While minimising Avian losses." Supplied Alphonse. "It's Win-Win. Captain."

Mustang sighed, and laid wary eyes on them both. "Be it on your heads then. I suppose I don't have much say in the matter anyway, as the royal family is the controlling power."

Edward smirked. "Yeah, the whole avian fleet has to take orders from a fifteen year old. Scary thought, isn't it?"

Mustang merely smirked knowingly.

.
A/n: I apologise for the shortness of this chapter. Once again I had to remove a scene because it disrupted the flow.

And YAY! New plot twist! What does Roy have planned? -Bum BUM BUUUUUUM-

Okay, I'm done being an idiot.

I've got my exams on at the moment, so don't expect another chapter for at least two weeks.

Next up: What REALLY happened to Winry? And is this whole war thing ever going to happen?

Also a brief note: If you have a question regarding my fiction in any way, do not hesitate to EMAIL me. I prefer not to have discussions on a chapter/review basis, or in a public forum. This is just me being highly pedantic.

And finally: I'm issuing a general statement here and now to prevent any questions on this topic. I WOULD PREFER IT IF THE IDEAS OR ELEMENTS OF AWWA WERE NOT COPIED IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM. There are legal reasons involved in this, which I am not at liberty to divulge until the closure of the fanfiction.

I might not even be able to then. But for now, the elements or ideas in this story that are my own (eg. DIGIT experimentation, the unique biology and processes of the avians and so forth) are under my copyright and cannot be used without my expressed, written permission. Which I am very unlikely to give.

Also, I in no way, shape or form claim to own FullMetal Alchemist or any of it's related indicia. It is the property of Square Enix.

I do not say this to be an asshole, and most certainly, once the legalities are over and done with I will reconsider this view. However, until such time I merely ask for patience and respect for my standing. Please don't consider me a right bitch for doing this.

Much love, Catherine French.

Please leave a review? -cringes in fear of flying bricks-