Thank you for the reviews!

I think it's a good thing I changed the rating to T, I now am less paranoid that I'll get reported :D

Chapter 14

The classic: A Nightmare

(Warning: Nightmare holds slit throat, blood and ugly transmutation corpse. Not very graphic but if you don't want to read: skip italic part. Chapter can work without it)

...So he clapped his hands, turned and leashed out with his blade. The blood was the first thing that made it through Ed's panicked and blurred vision. Dripping and red. It ran down from the neat cut in Mustang's throat, soaking the front of the uniform jacket. The Colonel made a choking sound before dropping to his knees. He lifted his head one last time and his gaze fell on Ed, and Ed felt his heart constrict. He wanted to die at the look in those black eyes. No anger, no blaming, no hate. Just utter shock and hurt.

He stepped forward, trying to get to the colonel but Mustang fell forwards and was dead before he could reach him. Ed dropped to his knees and turned him around, screaming at him to get up again but his voice didn't seem to leave his mouth. Everything was too silent, Mustang was too silent. And blood was still running. Ed frowned.

The blood was still warm. The body was still warm. All that was wrong with it was the cut in the neck. Such a little thing that needed to be fixed...

So he grabbed the blue uniform and started pulling, dragged him in the circle and brought his hands down. It glowed, finally the circle glowed!

But when the light was gone and the colonel sat up he wasn't right. His body was twisted and broken and he fell back to the ground in an undefinable heap, not able to work his body properly. Ed tried to run. He ran away from his mistake through the alleys of central until he bumped into a blue clad figure. He tried to run past it, but was grabbed by the collar and slammed against a wall. He stared at the remains of Roy Mustang's face.

"You won't get away Fullmetal. Look at what you have done to me! First you kill me, and then you won't let me stay dead and make a monster out of me? Oh no, I put up with you long enough, I won't accept this mistake of yours!"

The once so smooth voice burned in his ears like fingernails scratching down a blackboard. The malformed hands grabbed him tighter and the bloodshot black eyes drilled into his fear-widened golden ones.

"I'm sorry," Ed whispered, "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry doesn't help me you little brat. The only thing that would help is if you would at least fix your second mistake concerning me." The remains of Mustang took hold of his automail blade, lifting it so it lay against the half healed neck. "The dead are supposed to stay dead, Fullmetal."

"I can't, I can't..."

"Oh, why not? You did it once, so why not twice? You put me through this and expect me to have mercy on you now? Kill me for good Fullmetal...let me have my peace." It smirked and grabbed his automail arm tighter. "That's an order."

He wanted to scream as he felt his blade being pushed down but he couldn't. He could only close his eyes and try to push the dead body off him as it fell forwards and soaked him with blood...

Edward could feel himself waking. He was trashing around, trying to get rid of the blood on him and leave it behind in the world of nightmares. But just when he was about to open his eyes and stop flailing, wetness splashed over his arm.

Edward froze, feeling the liquid tickling down his arm, seeping his shirtsleeve. No, that couldn't be, the nightmare was over, had to be over, there shouldn't be any more blood! He couldn't have killed the colonel! The boy jumped off the couch, but the wetness on his arm didn't leave.

He ran for the bathroom. Blood, he had to get rid of the blood, then everything would be right again, had to be! Pulling the shirt off, he threw it away from him and turned the water on. Not bothering to get out of his pants, he pulled the shower curtain close to shut the world out and curled up underneath the shower spray. Shutting down every brain process, he just focused on the water that would wash away his sin.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting at the bottom of the tub, water raining down on him, when there was a knock at the bathroom door. The sharp sound echoed through his mind, pulling him out of his shell even though he struggled to stay numb. He curled in on himself even more.

"Fullmetal?"

NO, it was back, it was back! He pressed his forehead against his knees and put his arms around his head, trying to hide himself under the limbs.

"Okay that's it, I'm coming in!"

Ed flinched, his breath hitching. He heard the door opening and closing and then there was a silhouette behind the shower curtain. He shivered, but glanced up from underneath his arms and squinted. The silhouette looked normal...

"Is everything alright? You've been in here for quite some time."

And the voice was smooth like always, it even held some warmth and concern. Was it a trap, could the thing act? If even a little bit of the real Mustang was still within the monster, then it sure could. The colonel knew how to suppress emotions, so the monster should be able to make him think he was safe too...

He looked down at his automail. Should he get ready to defend himself? No. Never again. The only one who deserved this blade slicing through his skin was Ed himself. He would die before raising it against a friend again. Even if said friend was now a monster. A monster he had created.

He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for his fate.

"Okay, if you don't answer me now, I'll just assume that you forgot to turn off the shower and went back to sleep, which means I'll pull that curtain away in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...now."

Ed bit his lip as he heard the curtain being pulled away. A long moment of horror-filled silence.

"Holy shit, Fullmetal!" Mustang reached out to close the tap, hissing when the far too hot water met his skin. That got a reaction out of Ed. He jumped and reached for the faucet to turn the water on again. No water meant blood and blood meant his nightmare was real.

Once the wet element started to rain down on him again, he finally dared to look up at what he hoped was nothing that proved the cleaning water wrong. The Mustang standing over the tub, staring at him in shock looked indeed just like his normal self. No malformed limbs, no blood, no monster. Ed felt relieved tears join the shower water while trailing down his cheeks.

Mustang seemed to regain his composure again. He even folded his arms in front of his chest, a stern expression on his face.

"Okay, let's make a deal: You can stay in the shower if you talk to me and at least allow me to turn the temperature down. If you don't accept, then you leave me with no choice but to drag you out of there by force, 'cause I'm not going to let you continue this! Choose wisely."

Ed felt his heart warm. There was the bossy colonel he knew. No monster. The water did a good job with the blood. "Deal," Ed agreed quietly.

Mustang nodded and reached for the faucet. Ed felt himself relax. Be it because the colder water soothed his reddened, and partly starting to blister skin, or because Mustang still looked like himself and stayed true to his word and let him stay in the shower, Ed couldn't tell.

"So... what's wrong?" Mustang asked, as he closed the lid of the toilet and sat on it.

Ed opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn't want to speak and didn't know how to without sounding crazy, but he knew he had no choice because the colonel would take him away from the safety of the running water if he acted against the deal. But how was he supposed to explain?

"In my experience, sitting in the shower for an hour in the middle of the night with the water hot enough to burn your skin means you've had a nightmare and are trying to wash it away. Is it that?"

Edward stared at the colonel. Mustang's voice was uncharacteristically quiet. The older alchemist was leaning forward so he could rest his elbows on his knees and his chin on his interlaced fingers while he looked at the opposite wall. Though now he slowly turned back to Edward, waiting for an answer. Still a little surprised, Ed nodded.

"Care to tell me what it was about or at least what you want to wash away?"

Edward looked down at his hands. "Blood," he whispered. "There was so much blood."

Mustang nodded slowly, encouraging Ed to go on, and somehow Ed felt that he could, at least a little. There was something in Mustang's eyes that told him that the colonel would neither laugh, nor judge nor call him crazy but could understand Ed very well.

"Usually...when I have a bad dream it...it ends when I wake up, but this time...this time it was still there, the blood was still there, it splashed all over me! All over me!" He started shaking. "And it was yours..."

Mustang stood and picked up Ed's discarded night shirt. "There is no blood Ed," he said with a gentle voice and held up the shirt. He left the room and Ed was about to scream, scream for the colonel to come back and not abandon him because he thought he was crazy, but Mustang was back already. "And there is no blood on the couch either." He held up an empty mug. "It felt wet because you knocked over the water I put on the coffee table for you."

Ed stared at the mug, then at Mustang. Water? The colonel couldn't have put any water there, Ed killed him. The monster was toying with him. "I slit your throat," he told the colonel. "You're dead."

Mustang raised an eyebrow and his hand to his pulse. "I think I am pretty much alive," he said with a small smirk.

Ed frantically shook his head "I brought you back. Now you are toying with me for revenge."

"You didn't kill me. This was not deadly." The colonel pulled the sleeve of his light blue pyjama shirt back and showed Ed his arm. The boy stared at the bandage around it. That was right. He had slashed just the arm, just the arm! Slowly, Mustang came over to the tub, kneeling next to it.

"Hold out your flesh hand," he ordered.

Edward hesitantly did as he was told. Mustang carefully took the boy's hand and placed two of Ed's fingers on his unscathed neck. Ed jumped when he felt the colonel's pulse. He pressed his fingers a little harder against the pale skin, taking in every small thump he could feel with relief.

"See, I'm alive and my throat is just fine," Mustang said. "There's no need for you to wash blood away. Nightmares are just that: nightmares. They can never follow us into reality. I don't think you're crazy because of this though, because the aftermath of something is much worse than the happening itself, quite often. It's okay to be distressed and need time to process what you have dreamed about. However, it's not okay to hurt yourself because of it. If you think it helps to shower, please use water that doesn't cook you alive."

Edward blinked, confused about Mustang's calm, gentle words. He was tempted to reach out and hold the colonel next to the tub so he could feel the pulse a while longer when Mustang stood, but he felt that would be awkward so he let him go. The colonel fetched one of the few really fluffy towels he possessed. He held it out towards Ed and slowly the boy turned off the water.

For a moment Ed was very still and tense, waiting for the blood to come back and for Mustang's form to change into the ugly result of a human transmutation, but everything stayed as it was. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Mustang patiently waited for him to get out of the tub and then draped the towel around Ed's shoulders.

"I'll go fetch you some dry night clothes, so get dry," the colonel said.

Ed nodded and slowly started to dry himself off. The fabric of the towel bit into the damaged skin on his shoulder. He pressed his lips together and made sure it didn't touch his shoulder again.

He felt cold, so he was still huddled in the towel when Mustang came back with one of the t-shirt and shorts combinations Edward called his sleepwear. The colonel took one look at Ed's exposed shoulder and went over to the bathroom cabinet. He rifled through the cabinet in a way that indicated that he actually knew exactly where the thing he was searching for was but was just keeping himself busy so Edward could change without feeling uncomfortable.

"Wait with the shirt," he instructed while pulling out a small pot.

Ed just changed into dry pants and nervously held the shirt in his hands. The colonel put the small pot next to the sink and came over to Ed with a smaller and smoother towel than the big and fluffy one he had given Ed before. He reached out but waited for Ed to nod his consent before he began to very carefully dry Ed's shoulder.

"The skin seems more irritated than really burned, good thing the water here doesn't get that hot," the colonel absent-mindedly mumbled. Then he walked over to the sink and grabbed the small pot. He held it up for Ed to see. "This ointment should soothe the skin and help it heal. You wanna put it on yourself or shall I?"

Ed held up his automail hand with a contrite expression.

"Oh, yes, sorry," Mustang said, realising fast that applying ointment with automail wasn't very smart and reaching to your left shoulder with your left hand was a little difficult as well. The colonel got a small cotton ball from his first aid kit and very gingerly started to put the ointment on Ed's blistered shoulder and for good measure on every reddened part of his back. It stung a little for the first few seconds put afterwards the cooling substance was a blessing.

"There you go," Mustang said, looking his work over.

"Thanks," Ed mumbled with a shy smile.

"You're welcome. But please don't do it again," the colonel answered, his voice slightly scolding. He smiled when Ed nodded. Then, he yawned. "Well, let's try and catch some last hours of sleep, all right?"

Ed followed him back in the living room. He sat on the couch and watched as Mustang went over to the kitchen and threw the cotton ball in the waste bin.

"I think you can put your shirt on now, the ointment should have dried," he said, slightly amused about how Ed was still awkwardly clutching his sleep t-shirt in his hands.

Ed carefully pulled the shirt on. Thankfully, his skin didn't protest. Whatever Mustang had put on his shoulder was really good stuff. He lay down and pulled his blanket up to his chin when Mustang made to cross the living room to go to his bedroom.

Edward's gaze fell on the bookcases on the opposite wall. "Colonel?" he inquired, his voice barely audible.

"Hmhm?" Mustang hummed his questioning answer.

"Why...was that array... in your book?" He couldn't see Mustang but he could hear him stop in his tracks. For a moment Ed thought the older alchemist wouldn't answer but then Mustang said, "You scratch dates in your watch. I put notes in my book."

Ed sat up to stare at Mustang in shock, scanning his body for evidence. "Did you...did you...?!"

"No, I didn't. Hughes slapped some sense into me before I got too deep into it," Mustang admitted calmly. Then a sad smile crossed his face. "Though now that he isn't here anymore I had been fairly tempted to try again. Ironic, huh? I want to bring him back so he can slap me and stop me from bringing him back."

Edward looked at Mustang who was still standing there, smiling his sad little smile at the still slightly chalk smudged floor, and clenched his fists.

"You stopped me. I'll stop you," the boy said with resolve.

Mustang chuckled. "Equivalent exchange, huh?" He paused thoughtfully. "Well, that's what we alchemists do." The colonel became serious again and walked over to Edward, holding out his hand. "Deal. You can slap me if I do something stupid."

Ed shook his head and pushed the hand away. "No, I won't slap you." He grinned at Mustang's dumbfounded expression. "I'll dump water on you; that's what renders you harmless for real!"

The colonel slumped, sighed and rolled his eyes. "I should have known your little brain would come up with something like that."

Edward glared at the colonel. Mustang retorted with his smug smirk.

The world seemed to be a bit better.