I'm sorry, I know this isn't one of my best chapters. But it is the best I can do at the moment because I want to keep writing on it so the story won't just die, so please put up with this or utter some constructive critique that might help my muse rise from its grave.

Chapter 27

Thoughts About Fairness

Ed raised an eyebrow when the colonel barely did more than pull off his boots and military jacket, detach the cavalry skirt as well as his belt from his pants and strip his button down shirt, leaving him in a white undershirt and his blue pants, before dropping onto the bed.

"Didn't bring sleepwear, wasn't supposed to sleep tonight, was planning an all-nighter under Hawkeye's watch to catch up with the rest of my paperwork," the older alchemist mumbled as an explanation into his pillow when he realised Ed's amused staring. Then he smirked. "Heh, but now I got out of it! Good thing Mrs. Rockbell wouldn't leave us in the same room and Hawkeye doesn't want to linger around in the living room or something."

Unlike the last time when Ed had left Resembool they would only have to wait for eleven o'clock the next day for a train to Central. The colonel and his lieutenant had been planning to just stay at the local inn for the night but the Rockbells invited them to stay over. The two soldiers didn't need much, they even offered to share a room (Hawkeye answered Pinako's raised eyebrows with a pat to the gun on her hip which had Mustang sweat-drop) but the Rockbell house had enough space anyway, especially since for the moment no automail patient was around. So Hawkeye got her own room and Mustang would simply stay with Ed in the multi-bed room he once used to share with Al.

"You do know that she will make you do the paperwork anyway somehow sometime?" the younger alchemist asked.

"Yes, but I don't care, I get to sleep now!" the older answered contently.

Ed watched as the colonel threw a triumphant and hate-filled gaze at the briefcase, bulging full with papers, that stood next to his discarded boots and then got comfortable. Despite the rest he had gotten before they went on the train there were still some shadows left under his eyes and he was slightly paler than his usual light but healthy skin.

Ed hung his head a bit. "Sorry... about keeping you awake so long." He remembered Mustang had only trice been asleep when Ed woke up from dropping off randomly and even so he hadn't complained when Ed woke him up simply because he wanted to hear a reassuring voice say something to keep him grounded and help him find out how to get better.

"Nah, don't think about it, I've gone longer with less sleep." Mustang waved him off with a small smile that translated in 'You're welcome'. "Just shut up so I can sleep now and we're even," he added in a good natured grumble and a yawn when Ed opened his mouth to apologise again still.

The boy grinned a bit. "Thanks Mustang... goodnight."

"Goodnight Edward." He once again didn't say 'You're Welcome' aloud but Ed knew anyway when Mustang called him by his name instead of title, reminding him the colonel cared for more than the fame the Fullmetal Alchemist could bring. He cared for the boy beneath.

So Edward smiled, snuggled into his bed and tried to fall asleep. But as so often things he'd pushed away earlier caught up to him now when there was no distraction and his mind let the day pass revue. And he didn't really know what to think about it. Because on one side he felt rather happy, but on the other he was quite sad and felt guilty.

He was happy because the burden of being a murderer had been lifted from his shoulders, because even if the fake stone had contained souls, he hadn't murdered them, it was an accident. He was happy because of the nice evening they had had after they had run back to the house to save the food Pinako had luckily already taken care of.

Colonel Mustang had met the raised eyebrow of granny Pinako with a very sheepish apology because while he had turned down the heat for the noodles, he forgot about the sauce, risking an accident in her kitchen. Ed might have been amused about watching the man who was usually quite confident with women squirm and try not to look incompetent and childish, but he was busy cowering from Winry who had pulled out a wrench and lectured him about being stupid for keeping to himself and not asking them for help, now that she knew he would listen and react to her. He was happy that while he had upset her with that he at least hadn't made her cry. And of course once Winry was done with him he still got to watch Hawkeye take over Pinako's position and give Mustang a full lecture about stomping out into the rain without a jacket, risking a cold or worse when he was still recovering from injury. That had been fun too, even if he felt slightly bad because he had been the one to upset the colonel enough to leave the house.

So in that moment Ed had felt happy. He felt optimistic and for the moment everything seemed like it was all right again. Sure there still was this ache in his heart that wished Al was there to laugh with him when Mustang howled, "I know Hawkeye, I know and I won't do it again, would you please stop now!" to finally shut his lieutenant up, but the hurt didn't seem to swallow him up any more. When they all sat down to finally eat their dinner it couldn't have been more perfect even if the noodles were a bit too mellow and the sauce had an ever so slightly burned taste to it.

Sure, Ed had seen that the two soldiers and the two civilians were still a bit awkward with one another at the beginning. Especially Mustang didn't seem sure about how welcome he was at the table since he had never made a very positive impression on the Rockbells when he showed up in Resembool, though Winry thawed Hawkeye pretty fast and a light conversation started so they got over it soon. Pinako jokingly asked the lieutenant in reference to the forgotten food if Mustang always was such a useless scatterbrain and soon Hawkeye was telling some stories from the office, the colonel piping up every now and then to either defend himself or add some funny detail. Once he even dared to tell a story where Hawkeye was the one doing something stupid, something Ed hadn't thought possible but obviously had happened once. It earned Mustang a glare and a commend about uselessness that made him cringe but then they were laughing anyway. And then Winry told a funny story about some customer of the automail shop, leading to her ranting about Ed always damaging his automail.

But Ed hadn't minded her ranting. He had been too fascinated with the feeling of sitting there at the table and eating dinner between people who he all liked. (He only included Mustang in 'people he liked' because he still hadn't managed to invent a unique word that would describe his positive view of the colonel; just saying he liked Colonel Bastard still was like saying 'I am short', no matter how strong a bond they shared) It was a feeling he wasn't used to. Sure he had experienced it a few times, when he was young and his mum and dad were still there or when he and Al ate with the Rockbells or when they were with their teacher and even at the Hughes' place. But still, he had never gotten used to it, had always seen it as something special. It was a feeling of safety, like everything was all right, like he was complete.

He knew other people would laugh at him for revelling in this situation so much, but then others wouldn't understand. Here was where a tinge of sadness accompanied the moment. Sadness about how Edward felt this was something special, that he couldn't take it for granted like everyone else who ate dinner with their family. Sadness, that ever since his father left and things went downhill he only ever had this patched up dinners with a mix of people he had come to think of as important, yet who sometimes didn't even really know each other but were only there because he dragged them into his mess. And whenever he lost one of those people as well the company at the table became even more conglomerate, because he just couldn't learn and would proceed to get close to more people who would then be caught up in his problems. Of course, now that he knew them he wouldn't want to have missed getting to know a single one of them but was that really worth all the shit that had happened to him, all the shit that happened to these people because of him? He had sometimes wondered where the equivalent exchange for all his bad luck was. Well, maybe it was this: Becoming friends with all these wonderful people he had met on his journey and still would meet. But even though it was an exchange, was it a fair one? Was equivalent exchange really always fair?

"Come on Fullmetal, eat your food! If you keep up like this you'll lose enough weight that the Lieutenant will allow me to carry you after all," Mustang had said then, nudging Ed none to gently with his elbow to get him out of his thoughts.

And Ed had grinned, and decided to push the thoughts away then so they would not ruin the rare 'family' dinner even if they plagued him later on and stole some sleep.

"She really has you on a tight leash, huh? Makes you wonder who is really the commanding officer," he had mocked the colonel.

Mustang had huffed. "She doesn't have me on a tight leash, I just do what she says because I trust her to keep me on the right track when I can't watch out myself because I have my hands full with other stuff!"

"Scatterbrain!" Ed had laughed, picking up what Pinako had said earlier and soon all gloomy thoughts were forgotten in a hearty bantering contest.

And when no one looked, not even Mustang himself, Ed had smiled softly at the colonel. The older man had this slight grin on his lips and twinkling in his eyes all evening, not even the best placed comment about him and water could wash it away. Edward knew what it was, it was the same reason that had him smiling now: The whole equivalent exchange, losing his father, mother, brother and others, hadn't been fair. But one small part, all the struggle he had gone through with Mustang, all the loss of pride and work on building awkward bridges that grew stronger with familiarity and vanishing angst, all the problems with getting to know the other enough to totally trust him and not be afraid to seek his comfort, all of that part was totally worth what he had now. Mustang was still annoying as hell from time to time, but Ed wondered just why he had taken so long to see that given a chance the colonel could be so much more than just a boss. He was happy he found out now though, because he was quite sure he'd have lived the rest of his life as an empty shell if it wasn't for one stubborn Flame Alchemist lighting a fire under his ass so he would move on.

So even if it wasn't fair that the other person sleeping and breathing calmly in this room wasn't Al in his flesh body, he would never wish Mustang away. Even if it wasn't fair that the people who had shared the dinner table with him weren't his mother, father and brother, he would never wish them away. It was confusing. It brought up the question if he had been willing to exchange another life for Al's. But then, he suddenly realised, the answer was easy: Yes, he would have been willing to exchange another life for Al's, but only one. His own. Not the others'. Never them, it wasn't their fault he had done what he did that night. They only ever tried to help, no matter what motive had been the start for making them do so.

But then was it fair of him to accept that help? He had blindly searched for it since Al died, especially during the last few days, but then he had never asked himself this: Was it fair to ask them to care for him, get into trouble for him, when his problems were his own fault? When he had refused to accept help before Al was gone it had mostly been out of stubbornness, out of the need to be taken as fully capable of everything so people would allow him to run around and search for the Philosopher's Stone, allow him to take the military's funding and things. He had only ever taken the help he could justify with some equivalent exchange or when there was no other way to get closer to getting Al's body back. But now those reasons didn't exist anymore so he had searched out help, was still searching out help. And help on personal matters that is, help that helped no one but himself. Was it fair of him to do so, though?

He looked over at Mustang who was sleeping as peaceful as a guilty soul could, moonlight from the window the only source of light illuminating his features. Maybe he should ask the colonel this question tomorrow. He would probably have an answer, the smug bastard. After all he was the closest thing to a wise old man Ed knew. So Ed sighed and with his mind somewhat calmed by the prospect of maybe getting an answer tomorrow fell asleep.

Edward woke up slowly, stretched and yawned and rubbed his eyes before blinking them open. He then turned to wish Mustang a good morning, already grinning at the thought of a asking a grumpy, dishevelled colonel who'd just woke up philosophical questions because that surely would make Mustang look at him stupidly. But Mustang wasn't in his bed.

Ed frowned. The colonel had been quite tired, so why was he awake before Ed? And why was everything of his, even the briefcase full of paperwork, missing? Ed's eyes widened. It was bright outside, how long did he sleep, what time was it?

Did Mustang leave Resembool without him after all?

He scrambled for his pocket watch to check the time, surely Pinako and Winry would have woken him already if it was this late, right? Right? A piece of paper fluttered to the ground when he snatched the watch. For a moment he stared at it, his brain taking a while to get out of its panic stupor and act on that new clue. Then he picked up the note.

Since I'm not in the room and left a note I'm obviously not around.

No, NO! Mustang did leave! How could he do that when only yesterday they had talked about Ed taking on new missions? He was better again, wasn't he? Mustang could make use of him again, couldn't he? So why did he leave?

Ed took a deep breath, reminding himself he knew better than to assume he'd been abandoned after just one sentence that sounded a bit like that. He remembered Mustang laughing when he had assumed he'd be kicked out after that short conversation of the colonel with their neighbour. So he forced himself to read on.

To be precise I'm taking a short walk. That means Hawkeye might be a bit unhappy about me waking up early and not using the time for paperwork. Usually that wouldn't be dangerous for you because a) she couldn't mistake someone so much smaller for me and b) she likes to aim for my head and you wouldn't even catch that bullet if you held your arms up, but still, you should make sure she knows it's you when you walk in the door, just in case she decides to aim low today. That or you should sleep until one of us comes to wake you to get ready to go back to Central, should you want to go.

Sincerely,

Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, expert paperwork procrastinator

Did the bastard just call him so short a bullet aimed for his shiny army boots would hit Edward's head if he stood in front of the colonel?! Ed wanted to rip the note apart but then he was too happy that it held the question if he really wanted to go back to central, so he put it with the others he still kept. He then went down to the kitchen, keeping his head low as he peaked into the room because Hawkeye was scary when it came to work that should be done. There was the click of a safety being removed. He froze.

"Don't draw your weapon in my house!" Pinako chided.

"I'm sorry." Hawkeye apologised sincerely. "It isn't the colonel anyway." She sighed.

Then Ed was greeted by the three women who unlike him and Mustang seemed to prefer getting up early and were already bustling around, making breakfast.

"I would have come to wake you soon," the lieutenant said, obviously surprised that not only the lazy colonel but also the sleep-loving teen had woken up on their own.

"Eh? It's nine, the train comes at eleven, why wake me at nine already when quarter to ten would have been enough?" Ed asked, mourning the sleep he might have gotten, even if he had woken up earlier on his own, and then grinned at the colonel's missing briefcase sitting next to Hawkeye's underneath the kitchen table where the lieutenant must have put it so her superior couldn't accidentally forget the papers here in Resembool.

"The colonel said you might want the time to go make a visit," she answered.

And he knew immediately what that meant. Go to his mother and Al's grave. Ed swallowed. He should do that, shouldn't he? But he really didn't want to. While he had never been afraid of visiting his mother's grave because he knew her first death wasn't his fault he wasn't sure he could look at Al's grave because that was his fault. He wouldn't get a stupid idea like trying that transmutation again, no that lesson he had learned very well, but what if he was just overwhelmed again, what if he just dropped to his knees and shut down again? He didn't want to do that, he wanted to get better, he had promised Al he'd live on even if he didn't deserve it. Getting better was living on and it made the people around him happy too.

"Where's the colonel?" he asked.

The colonel was one of the people who'd be happy if he got better and lived on. The colonel could get Ed out of it should that grave be too much.

"I don't know. I guess he just sneaked out of the house before I could wake him so he would attend to his paperwork." Hawkeye shrugged, not pleased.

"But where did he go?" Ed pressed.

"Well, I guess he went there early so you could have your privacy now. Because when I told him the military must have shoved that stick in deep when he looked all posh and orderly even before his first coffee he just chuckled and said 'It's just the way a soldier visits a grave: looking all proper to pay his respects'," Pinako said calmly.

And Ed turned and ran for the cemetery before the colonel left there and he'd have to ask him to visit that grave with him.