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Chapter 4

A new day

Edward stirred and finally slowly opened his eyes. He wasn't very happy that he had to emerge from the depths of his for once dreamless sleep. Though he figured that, since sleep was only the recovery modus of the human body, it was only natural that his body wouldn't stay in peaceful slumber longer than necessary. After all, a body was made to move and work because how else was it supposed to get its nutrition and things? Screw evolution for making human bodies too complicated to live from sleep alone. It would have made living on much easier for Ed if he could just sleep away the days.

He sighed and made to sit up, but stopped. During his thoughts he had stared at the ceiling above him but now he remembered that before he closed his eyes to sleep he had been staring at the sinking sun. He frowned in confusion. How did that change of scenery happen? He stared at the ceiling some more.

It was familiar in some way but on the other hand he had never seen it before. Maybe he should survey the rest of the room for answers. He turned his head and looked over the plain room. There were two small closets and another, empty and neatly made, bed and a desk in the corner. Now he knew why even the ceiling had looked familiar, even though he had never been in this room before. Military dorms had this tendency too look all completely the same.

So he was in a dorm. Nothing wrong with that, he would have most likely chosen to stay here anyway now that he was in Central again. The only question that still remained was: How did he get here? Ed scrutinised the place once more.

There was his suitcase in front of one of the closets. His red coat was draped over the chair by the desk, together with his black jacket. He leaned over the edge of his bed and looked down. There were his boots, ready for him to slip them on again. Leaning back again he lifted the blanket and looked himself over. Whoever had taken his coat, jacket, and boots off had not dared to remove more and put him in his pyjamas because he was still in his black pants and his black top. He decided that he appreciated this.

Finally the boy moved out of the bed. He ignored his boots and shuffled over to the desk in only his socks. There was something gleaming on the surface. His hand subconsciously wandered down to check his pocket, though he knew from the small scratches and dents, and other traces of the rough life the watch was forced to endure, that it was indeed his.

So Ed grabbed the watch to put it back into his pocket when he realised that someone had used the silver thing as a paperweight. A small, folded piece of paper was clamped below the watch. Blinking in surprise he stuffed the watch into his pocket and then carefully unfolded the paper. The penmanship was familiar and he blinked once more in surprise before he read:

There are many people who like to decorate their front yards with garden gnomes. The military is not included. Therefore we would appreciate it if you sleep somewhere else, for example in this dorm room, that is now booked for you. The key is in your coat pocket.

Sincerely,

Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, not your secretary

Edward stared open mouthed at the note. Mustang had brought him over here? That was...strange. The colonel was the last person he would have thought to do something like this. Ed would have expected him to wake him up. Speaking, poking, yelling, dumping water on him, or maybe even burn his coat, if nothing else helped. He checked his coat, but it didn't look like it had been abused with flames or water. Either Mustang had tried to wake him half-heartedly or not at all before he chose to bring Ed to the dorms.

At least the note held a short joke, otherwise Ed would have feared for Mustang's mental health.

Edward finally chose not to think about the whole thing too much. It would never happen again, so there was no use in trying to analyse why it somehow made him feel better. He should really just hope that it would never come up again because Mustang had a tendency to laugh about him already and he shouldn't appear like he was a helpless kid that couldn't find a place to sleep alone, when he was determined to stay with the military. So forget, pray that the others do so too, and live on.

At last Edward opened his watch to find out what time it was. He had slept in so far, it was nearly lunch time. That meant he was late to the office. If he chose to go. They left the option open for him, so he hoped they wouldn't mind if he was late.

His gaze fell on the date, engraved in the lit of the watch. He really hoped they wouldn't mind if he was late, because he was going to need some more time today. For the first time after what seemed like ages, he clapped his hands and transmuted the tip of his metal index finger into something pointy. Then he set to work, adding a new date to the old one.

He arrived at the office just when the Colonel and his men, and woman, came back from their lunch break. He smiled when they greeted him cheerfully and went beet red when Mustang called:

"Morning, sleeping beauty!"

The colonel smirked a little but it didn't seem very vicious, and since he didn't say anything else Ed hoped that the incident would be forgotten. To be sure that he didn't make himself a target he kept his head down until Mustang vanished in his inner office.

The others sat at their desks and Edward stood there a little awkwardly until Hawkeye immediately came to save him. She placed him at the remaining desk and put some files on it. Edward didn't posses the military knowledge that was required for most files, but Hawkeye gave him the task of summarising reports from other soldiers. The Lieutenant told him that she was really happy that he helped them out, because if Ed summarised the reports then the others could file, sign and whatever else they needed to do with them, much faster than when they had to read them whole, meaning they wouldn't have to work extra hours. It seemed that today one of those phases when they were practically swamped with paper work had started.

"Why can't they balance the work so it is the same amount every time? I mean yesterday we got almost nothing and today they try to drown us with this crap!", Havoc complained as he scribbled away on his paper.

"I bet they are just too lazy to pass the files on immediately when they get them and collect them in a big box, which they only bring over when it is full.", Breda mused in a bad mood.

"As far as I know, this is indeed the common management technique." Falman grumbled, for once not so stoic as usual.

"Put that on the to-be-changed-when-Mustang-is-Führer-list.", was the answer.

They bickered some more and from time to time tried to engage Edward in their complain-marathon, but Ed was happy with just grinning at them and raising his eyebrows whenever they said something particular stupid.

An hour later Mustang came out of his inner office, complaining that he needed some distraction or he'd fall asleep on his papers. So he dumped his work on his smaller desk in this office and took part in the conversation, throwing in a witty comment every now and then.

Ed listened to them whilst he worked and couldn't help but feel content. He knew they missed Alphonse too, he could see it in the way they had opened their mouth to, almost instinctively, ask where he was when Ed came in to work, before realisation hit them and they covered it up fast. But unlike Winry or Pinako they didn't dwell on it or tried to push it down forcefully. Maybe it was because they hadn't known Alphonse that well and therefore didn't miss him as much, something Ed could understand and wasn't angry about. But he knew it wasn't just that.

As stupid as it might sound, Edward had the feeling that, unlike civilians like Winry and Pinako, those soldiers had accepted the fact that life could be ended and people could be gone very fast, much better. They had a dangerous job, even more dangerous than the average soldier maybe, considering that they supported Mustang in becoming Führer, a dream that sometimes resulted in dangerous undercover missions. Some of them had even killed already and therefore knew first hand how little it takes to end a life. That's why they had learned to go on, to live on, much better than every one else.

And that's why Edward appreciated their company. They could be happy and cheerful around him and he knew they weren't so because they didn't care that Al was gone. They did it because they knew how to go on and wanted to teach him. One more reason he felt much better here in the office than in Resembool; The soldiers around him didn't infect him with their sadness all over again whenever he managed to overcome his own.

So he worked on on his files, the corners of his mouth lifted into a tiny, but nonetheless existing smile.