Thanks for the reviews.

Warnings: Mentions of Ed/Winry, baby angst and baby creepiness if you squint your eyes.

Chapter 6

Ed stared at the moldering remains of the Bradley mansion. Five years ago it had been warm, bursting with life. The house was dark and empty now, like the bones of a great beast.

Riza said it had been deserted for two years; ever since Mrs. Bradley died. No one wanted anything to do with the house and Salem was too young to run it himself or live on his own. Once he turned old enough to have a say in where he stayed, the mansion might be his. For the moment and the foreseeable future, however, it would remain in this condition.

Ed's face was grim as he walked down the long neglected front-way and pushed open the door.

XX

"She'd been fighting consumption for months." Riza said from her side of the changing curtain. "No one knew. She must've thought she had a bad cough. But one night her body just couldn't take the strain anymore. Salem was the one who found her the next morning, lying in her own blood. The doctor said she must have been coughing for hours before her lungs gave out and she suffocated to death. I saw her myself. It was awful.

"The State buried her in the national cemetery. She was given a burial with full military honors."

"So what happened to Salem?" Ed pushed aside the curtain, fully clothed.

Riza shook her head. "He's a ward of the State now. Grumman was trying to decide where to put him permanently until his heart attack. Now he'll probably stay in protective custody of the State until he's old enough to make his own decisions."

Edward bent to pick up his suitcase. "Poor kid. How old is he?"

Riza paused to consider. "He must be about ten now."

"Huh." Ed folded his coat over one arm and pulled open the hospital door. Right about the same time he'd lost his own mother.

"Where are you going, Ed?" Riza asked. "What are you doing?"

Ed paused, his hand on the knob, considering the question. And for the life of him, he couldn't come up with an answer. He didn't know. He just knew he had to go somewhere, do something.

"I don't know." He replied, just like he'd said to his brother. And took a step toward out the door.

"Edward." Riza was standing, saluting. "Wherever you go. Good luck."

Ed waved goodbye.

XX

Inside was worse. Everything smelled of animal waste and stale air. A thick layer of dust covered the floor like a carpet.

Ed moved through the rooms like a ghost, leaving only his footprints behind in the thick grey dust. He brushed past the sitting room where he and Fuehrer Bradley had exchanged veiled threats. He didn't like that room, but it had really been the only room he'd seen in the house minus the entry. There was so much more to the estate, so much he hadn't seen. He'd promised Mrs. Bradley he'd come back to see visit. He felt stupid coming now that Mrs. Bradley wasn't here to tell him about the paintings of men and women hanging on the walls, about gaudy chandeliers or crooked banisters. He wished he'd taken the time then. He hadn't realized how little of it she had left.

Great, he'd come to Central to get away from his guilt. He should have known he could never outrun it.

He would have missed it if the door hadn't been ajar. The panel, slid completely closed, would have been indistinguishable from the wall itself.

Ed felt a stray tug of curiosity pulling him towards what looked like the door to a secret room. He pushed the panel further open, coughing as dust rose into the air.

The room beyond was filled with rows and rows of books, mostly local authors with here and there a foreign novel in languages Ed couldn't read. It looked like a private reading room. Two garishly large chairs with velvet upholstery were tucked behind the last row of shelves. A small wooden table, nearly covered in books, sat between them.

Ed passed a noncommittal glance over the titles, sliding odd Cretan novels off the top. After the third book he paused, and then picked one up, eyes wide in surprise. The name emblazoned on the books' front cover, was in fact, his-own. Well, it wasn't exactly a book. It was actually a compilation of essays and letters to other Alchemists in and around Amestris promoting the practical theory of Alchahestry in Amestris. It was sort of surreal to see his name on the cover of a book. He's had no idea anyone had taken the time to compile his essays. It was actually a little bit flattering.

Something creaked behind him. Ed turned, but saw nothing besides the rows of dusty book cases. He dismissed the noise as the groaning of an old house, turning back to rest of the tables' neatly stacked contents.

The rest of the books were Xingese, detailing the Dragon's pulse and utilizing it to deconstruct, transmute and reconstruct organic and inorganic material whilst giving something back to it. He recognized a few of the names; mainly from Al's notes on Xing. These were men he'd never met before, but he knew they were great practitioners of Alchahestry.

He glanced back down at the table. It looked as though these books had been sitting here since the estate had been closed up. No one would mind if he borrowed one or two of these.

A second creak slithered through the silence, closer than before. Ed glanced behind him and something looked back; something he couldn't quite see. It was there, in his periphery, but when he turned, only the empty shadows yawned back.

Ed could feel his heartbeat staccato against his ribs. He tried to tell himself that he was being stupid. There was nothing in this room with him. He was losing it. He was getting paranoid. Old houses made noises. There wasn't something in the room with him.

A third creak echoed loudly in the unlit library. Ed set the books down as quietly as he could. He wanted his hands free. He turned; his fists up, but nothing moved amongst the shelves.

His eyes darted from shadow to shadow, willing something to come out. A shiver crept down his spine. Something was there, in the room with him. He could almost feel it.

But nothing rushed out to attack. Ed simply stood and waited. Until he realized how stupid he looked, hunched over, ready to fight the Boogie man.

He straightened up with a frustrated sigh. He really wished his imagination would give it a rest. He wasn't going to be able to go anywhere if this kept up.

Ed shook his head as he left the house; stepping over piles of cat droppings. He patted the dust from his coat as he walked back down the walkway to Mainstreet. It was time to get out of Central. He was starting to lose it. Or maybe he already had.

Ed hailed a cab and ordered the driver to take him to Central station. He'd take the first available train to anywhere. Anywhere was better than drowning in city noise and his own paranoid delusions.

It was only after the car pulled away that Ed realized he'd left those books behind.

.:xXXx:.

Roy was trying to eat lunch. But between special envoys from Drachma's ambassador, unpacking the boxes of his things from the Embassy in Ishval, and preparing to move into the Fuehrer's estate, Roy was beginning to believe that this meal was also a lost cause. The sandwich he'd been brought hours ago was congealing on his desk, ignored in lieu of one urgent matter or another.

And then Riza Hawkeye stepped into his office. "Sir." Her back snapped straight and her hand rose to her forehead.

"Major." Roy returned her crisp salute with a nod. He set down the box of books he was carrying and began to shelve them. "What brings you to my offices?"

Riza understood the question underneath the question. 'I ordered you to watch over Fullmetal. Why are you here and not back there with him?'

"Edward Elric was discharged from the hospital, Fuehrer Mustang." She said. "I came here as directly as I could. And I thought it would be best to let you know; he expressed the intention of leaving Central City immediately."

Roy paused for a moment before easing a particularly thick tome onto the shelf. "So he's already out of Central then. Pity."

"Respectfully, sir." Riza cleared her throat. "I believe you may be able to catch him at the train station if we went now."

Roy picked up another box of books. "I'm the leader of Amestris, Major. I can't just leave everything to run after a former State Alchemist." He set the box down next to the old one and reached inside.

"No." Riza grabbed the book his fingers had closed around, keeping him from drawing it out. "But you could go and thank an old ally for saving your life."

Roy looked up at his body guard and smirked. "Been practicing that have you, Major?"

Riza had the grace to look pleased with herself. "Since I left the hospital, sir."

Roy closed his eyes and let go of the book. When he opened them again, they held none of the weariness and all of the fire she remembered. "I'm getting to predictable." He said, striding towards the door and grabbing his coat on the way. "We'll have to change that."

"Yes, sir."

.:xXXx:.

"All aboard, number 447, Central City to North City."

Edward grunted as little as he hefted his suitcase up the steps onto the train. He wasn't quite as young as he used to be. He remembered when two days in the hospital would have him good as new. Now he was laid up for a week and it felt like he'd just taken a pounding from teacher. Not that he was old; he'd beat up the first person who told him he was an old man. It was just a little disconcerting to realize that his body was catching up to him a little bit.

He found an empty seat near the rear of the car, sliding in next to the window. He'd always preferred the window seats, something about being able to look out and watch the scenery slip past was so relaxing; like he was watching things getting done.

Ed stared out into the crowded station, impatiently waiting for the trains' departure time. In a few more minutes he would be on his way North; to Briggs and what else he didn't know. He hoped it was peace.

XX

"What are you doing, Edward? You've been cooped up in here all day."

Winry peered over his shoulder at the notes he'd been scribbling. It was a paper on the practical applications of Alchahestry. He was thinking about sending it to Central for critical peer review, but at the moment, it was only a rough draft.

Ed smiled wearily back at his wife and kissed her briefly. "I guess I got a little carried away, but I got a great idea for Alchehestric formuli and I couldn't stop."

"Can I convince you to take a break with me?" Winry asked, teasing Ed's ear with her lips. "It's been awhile since we've spent some quality time together."

Edward moaned a little and set down the pen. He supposed the paper could wait for a little while…

XX

"Mind if I sit here, Fullmetal?"

Ed opened his mouth to say 'no' when two things occurred to him at once.

One: the individual speaking to him, had called him by his State certified title, a title which was no longer his.

Two: the voice of said individual was incredibly familiar.

Edward's eyes went wide and he turned to look at the Fuehrer of Amestris, the man standing next to his seat.

Roy Mustang smirked back.

AN: I know. I'm terrible, but this was the best place to end the chapter. I'll get you your Roy/Ed, I promise.

Please let me know how I'm doing.

Until next time.