Disclaimer: I don't own it, and I never will.

"Brother, you're up awfully early!" Alphonse declared as he entered his elder brother's office. The pile of papers the suit of armor had been holding fell to the floor, having slipped from his hands when he saw his older brother. "What's the occasion?"

"Haha." Edward muttered, glancing up from his place behind his desk. "I thought I'd get an early start." He replied slowly, returning to his task of signing papers. The methodical clanking of metal on wood told him his brother was coming over to the desk, more than likely to hand him the paper's Al had dropped when he came in.

"Alright, who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

Edward looked up to see the suit of armor standing before his desk with his hands on his hips. A reluctant grin pulled at the corners of Edward's mouth in response. "Aren't we just full of jokes today?" He observed, raising an eyebrow in question. "What's put you in such a good mood?"

"I could ask you the same thing, brother." Alphonse countered, a smile adorning his countenance as well. It was hard for the younger teen to keep a stern face when he was overjoyed at the change in his brother's behavior. Ed seemed to be returning to his old self now that the General was awake. There were still dark circles under the blonde's eyes; the result of nightmares that plagued Edward every time he closed his eyes, but his eyes were no longer dull and empty.

Edward grinned and turned his attention back to the papers before him. "Things are just looking up." He admitted quietly, though the meaning behind the words was not lost on Alphonse.

"Yes, things have taken a pleasant turn. It's about time, in my opinion. Everyone's been put through so much since the attack. We all deserve a bit of good news, ne?" Alphonse's attention turned to a picture that was on the General's desk, which was currently serving as Edward's work place.

The picture was from Mustang's days as a soldier. The men in the picture appeared to be at some sort of party. Judging by the haphazard banners and decorations strewn in the background, it was plausible that the picture was taken during Christmas. The men in the picture were all crowded together, obviously trying to fit everyone in the picture. At a glance Alphonse would say there were at least 30 soldiers present. Roy stood in the middle, with Hughes to his left and Havoc standing behind them both. Other men that the Elrics did not know surrounded them, all sporting identical grins.

Ed followed his younger brother's gaze and felt a sad smile tug at his lips. Something about that picture always got to him. Maybe it was the fact that the General looked so happy, so normal, laughing and surrounded by friends. Edward couldn't recall the last time he'd seen the General smile with such abandon.

Alphonse realized his brother had gotten quiet and shifted his eyes over to the blonde, only to find the young man focusing on the picture. "Ah, brother, don't worry. Mustang will be as good as new soon enough!" He amended, giving his older brother a reassuring smile. The mention of the General's condition reminded Al of why he'd come in the first place. "Oh no! I nearly forgot!"

Ed's eyes snapped to the suit of armor in surprise, having been startled from his thoughts at his brother's outburst. He noted the panicked look that crossed the armor's visage and quirked a curious brow. "Forgot what?" He prodded.

"The General is suppose to have physical therapy tomorrow afternoon. Janelle was hoping you'd be able to get away from work so you could be there. For support and stuff. I know he only just woke up, but they think it would be best to get him use to walking with the prosthetic leg."

"You actually had to ask?" Edward joked, rising and grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. He shrugged it on in one fluid motion and headed for the door.

The youngest Elric's eyebrows shot up into his would-be hairline at his brother's behavior. "And just where are you going?" He inquired, his eyes straying to the pile of paperwork that still littered the desk.

"Where do you think?" Edward smirked, grinning over his shoulder. "I'm gonna go see the invalid."

R-2-F

"You again." Was the General's greeting later that evening. Edward entered the room to find Mustang sitting in bed and reading a newspaper. A small jolt of panic brought Edward to the man's bedside.

"Yeah, me again." He agreed absentmindedly, craning his neck to see over the edge of the newspaper. A wave of relief washed over the blonde when he saw the date of the paper.

For the first several weeks of Mustang's stay in the medical ward, reporters had swarmed headquarters. News of the military's defeat had spread like wildfire throughout the area. To make matters worse the reporters discovered that the military's "top dog" had been injured in the battle.

And if all of that hadn't been enough, it appeared that a witness had taken pictures of the battle. Pictures of Scar and the General's fight had decorated the front page of every newspaper for days on end.

It had taken the military days to clear up the mess with the media. The reporters were reluctant to overlook such a large affair. After hours of persuading, bribing, and a fair bit of threatening, the military had effectively silenced the media.

The last paper issued was the most harrowing of them all. The unidentified witness had caught the one moment that haunted those who had seen the infamous battle. It was the same scene that plagued the eldest Elric brother's dreams and kept the youngest hard at work.

The picture was of Edward cradling Mustang's broken body in his arms, tears slipping down his cheeks to mix with the General's blood. The blonde's hair and face were splattered with the older man's blood and his pristine gloves shown crimson in the dying sunlight. Mustang's skin was smeared with dirt and blood and his eyes were still open, staring hauntingly into nothing.

When Havoc and the others had arrived this had been the scene that greeted them. As they'd neared the duo Edward's eyes had risen to stare unseeingly at them, the golden orbs blank. It was in that moment that the Fullmetal Alchemist's mask had slipped, and he'd wept.

A hand on Ed's brought the young man back to the present. Golden eyes widened ever so slightly when they met the concerned eyes of the General. The raven haired man quickly withdrew his hand and placed it in his lap, blushing ever so slightly. Mustang cleared his throat and fixed his eyes on something outside the window.

After a few moments of tense silence passed the General spoke up. "Are you…alright?" He inquired softly, his deep voice belaying his concern. Edward nodded slowly and kept his eyes fixed on the man's profile.

The last rays of sunlight filtered through the open window, casting a golden glow around Mustang. "Beautiful.." Edward breathed before he could catch himself. A bright red blush stained the blonde's features as he slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Excuse me?"

Edward turned away from the man, working to school his features. He could feel the weight of the older man's gaze on him and shivered slightly. He could well imagine the look that graced the General's features at that very moment. His brows would be drawn together in a confused frown and his eyes would have narrowed ever so slightly. Just picturing it made Ed uneasy.

"The reason I'm here." Ed began abruptly, turning back to Mustang with a schooled expression. "Is because I'm sure there's questions you'd like answered. The military has this nasty habit of screwing up facts and withholding information, so I thought I'd save you the headache of sifting through their shit." He moved closer to the bed and sat in his usual seat, straddling the chair and resting his arms on the back of the chair. He stared expectantly at his superior.

Mustang stared at the boy that seemed so familiar, yet for the life of him he couldn't place him. He would have remembered someone this stubborn and straight to the point. It wasn't often you found someone like that amongst the ranks of the military.

After pondering the question for a moment, he straightened and locked eyes with the blonde. "I find the best place to start is always at the beginning."

"Have it your way." Edward nodded. He took a deep breath before launching into his explanation. "Your name is Roy Mustang, General Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist." Edward began, pausing to gather his thoughts. "The year is 1917. You faced a formidable opponent exactly 26 weeks ago. You managed to win, but you were hurt pretty badly during your fight and you fell into a coma shortly after."

Mustang looked at him, his eyes widening as realization dawned on him. Suddenly the questions that had been nagging at the back of his mind since he awoke seemed to make a bit more sense. His mind was reeling with this newfound information, but one thing about the explanation stood out the most to him.

"You say I was wounded in battle?" At Edward's nod he felt his stomach twist. "Is that why I can't feel my left leg?"

R-2-F

Author's note: Hey guys, sorry about the long wait! My computer crashed and whatnot and I couldn't find my written copy of this chapter. Just to clear things up, Winry has operated on Mustang, but something went wrong. Mind you, he was comatose when she performed the operation, so it's not unheard of for something to go wrong.