Ehehehehe... I know I said I wouldn't take that long again but life had other plans for me. I'm sorry. But now it's finally done!

I've had a concussion myself, once, but unlike Ed's mine has been a severe one that went along with memory loss and some delirium so I don't remember how they treated it and apologise for any medical errors in what I wrote.

Thank you for all the reviews! :3

Chapter 32

How Far

The Police car that came to check what the explosion and all the smoke billowing into the sky was about arrived just when Mustang and Hawkeye were dragging the first corpse out of the train wreck. It seemed some train workers had been lucky but some had not. Ed watched as they carefully laid poor Thomas to the ground and hung his head, thinking that the once smiling young man had basically invited his own death when he had offered them the ride on the train. He bit his lip, blinking repeatedly when his eyes turned moist. He couldn't help but feel like this was his fault for being one of the sacrifices those damn homunculi were after, for being the bait that brought Envy here.

But instead of crying he talked to the police officer who came to question him.

He wasn't as good at making up fake stories as Mustang, and he didn't want to say something that might contradict what said man was just telling another police officer, so he had the good sense to act a bit confused and just say that everything happened too fast. Him being so young and concussed helped making that believable.

Finally, after being checked over by a field medic, he, Mustang and Hawkeye took place in the back of one of the military cars that had come when the police had called for them and the firefighters to help clear the train wreck up. Edward could see Armstrong transmuting the earth to lift those train cars that were still somewhat in shape back on the tracks to be pulled away later and then the car set off.

The boy sat sandwiched between the colonel and his lieutenant but he didn't really mind. Actually it helped him sit upright and the warmth of familiar people so close was somewhat soothing. He just felt tired by now and his head still wasn't in the best of shapes. They were to stop at the hospital and Ed was to stay there to be monitored for the night, but he really hoped he could get out of it somehow. Maybe Mustang could do something about it...

He glanced over at the colonel who was staring out of the car window, posture and face saying nothing. By now Ed knew that meant he had things on his mind and was sorting them out. Eventually though a hint of discomfort made its way past the mask of indifference and one hand discretely slipped down to press against the wound still healing at his side. The crash itself, getting blown off the train car when the other wagon exploded, then starting pulling people from the wreck probably took its toll on the injury.

"Sir-" Hawkeye started, who obviously had seen the move as well.

"Yeah, yeah I'll have it checked out, don't worry. That medic chewed me out already..." Mustang grumbled, loosely crossing his arms in front of him and slouching a bit in his seat. He'd rather look like a petulant child than let them see he was still pressing his hand over the wound. Ed would have shaken his head at that but then he felt that with its current condition this would make him sick. Not to mention he probably would have acted just the same as the colonel did now had he been the one stabbed by Lust. So he just focused on keeping his eyes open.

It was more the emotional stress that left him tired than the physical exhaustion. Lately he'd seen so many sides of Mustang that were kinder than he ever expected the man to be, it made seeing him on that rampage even harder. Ed worried his bottom lip, thinking about how the colonel had actually threatened to hurt him should he not hand over Envy. Granted, it was only the automail arm that would have been burned, but still... He had promised to look after Ed. Was that all a farce after all, was he just trying to get his best tool to function again no matter which way? Was he only caring for Ed the same way a huntsman cared for his bloodhounds? With some measure of affection but still never seeing them as equal to his truly loved ones, his true friends, his family? He remembered how the colonel's face had been so very passive when he and Hawkeye put Thomas down to start the row of corpses and shook his head a bit. Just because the colonel didn't drop his mask didn't mean he didn't care, right? He probably just had seen more dead soldiers than Ed knew live ones and not letting it get to him was just self preservation.

But still, that face seemed so very disinterested as he looked at the body of the young soldier that had offered them the ride... It made the boy think about if Mustang would have really pulled through with his threat to burn Ed to get Envy, if he would have looked at him with the same detached expression while Ed suffered from the burns.

Ed curled up on himself as well as he could in the middle seat in the back of a car. Suddenly being sandwiched between those two soldiers didn't feel warm anymore.

He must have fallen asleep sometime because the next thing he knew Mustang woke him up as the car pulled up in front of the hospital. He could see the colonel raise an eyebrow when Ed didn't complain about being taken to one of his least favourite places but the boy just didn't feel like throwing a fit.

They checked him over and the doctor confirmed he had a concussion. Ed didn't have any memory loss and according to Mustang he hadn't been unconscious for more than five minutes. Apart from a headache and the occasional waves of sickness he was fine, so the concussion was said to be a mild one and should be cured with two weeks of rest and taking it easy afterwards. Ed cursed when they told him not to read during the first week or do anything else that would require concentrating hard or for a long time period. This was bound to be a boring recovery. Just why couldn't he have as much luck as Hawkeye, who'd been knocked out much longer than him but had still gotten away with her head in a perfectly fine state?

Finally he was asked to stay the night, just in case. Before he could think about whether or not to ask the colonel if he could get him out of this, Mustang received the same verdict. Their doctor was one of the few who really cared for their patients and hadn't been happy at all when Mustang left the hospital early to look after Ed, so now he made good use of the opportunity to make sure the colonel healed as perfectly as possible.

The black haired man opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again with a glance at Ed. He knew that if he complained his way out of this then there was no way Ed wouldn't throw a tantrum to get out of the hospital as well. And even though Ed wasn't sure if he'd really throw a fit right now it still made him think that if Mustang was willing to stay just so Ed would stay then maybe he really cared after all?

He watched as the man stepped out of the little bathroom adjoined to their hospital room, wearing clean green hospital pajamas and toweling his hair dry. Ed had gone to clean himself up before him, the moment they were assigned to their room actually. It was irrational but the cleansing water running down his body always left him feeling like bits of guilt and other sad feelings were being washed away as well. Mustang on the other hand had preferred to get control over their situation first, doing telephone calls, coordinating which truths reached which people so as not to reveal their knowledge of the homunculi, plotting and scheming like no tomorrow. He didn't seem to mind that he looked like, well, a train wreck.

Now though Mustang was clean of all the bits of blood and ashes and other dirt, too. He peered out the window, then looked at Ed who'd been sitting on his bed, quietly watching as one by one everyone of the team dropped by to get their instructions and being surprised when everyone of them came over and took the time to ask how he was holding up. Fuery even brought a get-well-card that was now sitting on the small side table next to Ed's bed. Their attention had made him feel warm.

"We should go to sleep, it's been a long day..." Mustang finally said and Ed nodded, lying down. Glimpsing at the card until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore and remembering the guys clapping him on the back and wishing for him to get well helped to keep his troubles at bay long enough for him to find sleep.

He woke to a slow, regular, but still annoying tapping sound. Opening his eyes and blearily sitting up he flinched when realising there was someone sitting next to his bed, tapping a rhythm on the bedside table. Obviously with the intention of slowly waking Ed up because once the boy sat up there was a grin.

"You sleep deep for someone guilty of so many things..." Mustang said.

Ed slowly skidded to the other side of his bed. "Like you are any better." He tried to say it with confidence but it didn't quite work.

Mustang cocked his head to the side, thinking. "Hm, maybe I am, maybe not. At least I only killed to protect my fellow soldiers and to end that war as soon as possible. You on the other hand... when someone dies because of you then it's without any cause and usually only because you were stupid."

"I didn't kill anyone!"

"How about Al?"

Edward felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach, all breath leaving him. "You said I had no intentions to do so so it was an accident!" he croaked out. "I didn't kill him, it was an accident, not my fault! You said so!"

"Of course I'd say so." The colonel raised one slender eyebrow at him, looking at him like he was a particularly annoying and very stupid kid. "I need you to function instead of wallowing in self pity. Of what use is a depressive or resigned Fullmetal to me?"

The question was rhetorical and hurt like hell. Ed's head lowered and his eyes turned moist. A lie, it had all been a lie, how could he have ever believed that this man would care for him when his own father didn't?

"And why are you telling me that now, can't you predict, can't you see it hurts me and makes me useless again?" he asked, stubbornly blinking his eyes dry again.

"I can. And I don't care because, frankly, I've had enough of you." The colonel started tapping the rhythm again, like he was bored by the conversation.

Ed almost choked on trying to not let a sob escape. "But why?"

"Because you still don't know how to follow orders, you stubborn brat and I have no need of a soldier I can't control. You're a far too unpredictable card for my game so I'm getting rid of you."

"I see." One tear escaped after all, the others weren't far from it. "Because I wouldn't let you have Envy?"

"Yes, because you wouldn't let me avenge my best friend even though he only died because he tried to help you."

Was it possible to choke up and spit out your own stomach? Ed felt like he was going to do so soon. "I never asked him to- I never wanted him to- I miss him as well!"

Anger flaring in dark eyes yet the voice remained cold and calm. "You have no right to miss him." The colonel leaned back, taking something from his own bed behind him. "You are going back to Resembool-"

"No... please-"

"- and you're going to stay there." He shoved the resignation papers at Ed.

"I can't, I haven't accomplished anything yet! I want to help people, I want to help you make Führer, I-"

"I don't care. You're more trouble than you're worth. Helping me become Führer? You'd sooner kill me. Only by accident, of course."

The words were like acid poured into Ed's ears, making a horrible, panicked ringing sound through his skull. "I'd never-"

"Oh, you would!" The colonel lifted his arm, the scar from where Ed hat cut him a silver line in the dim moonlight falling in through the hospital window.

And now Ed couldn't keep back the tears anymore. "Okay. Okay, I'll go. I don't want to hurt you..." His words were almost too quiet to be heard yet Mustang got them anyway. He just scoffed and held out a pen. With a shaking hand Ed scribbled a barely legible signature and once done the colonel carefully put the papers away and then picked up one of the spare ignition gloves Havoc had brought him. "Good, now that that's done, how about some equivalent exchange?" Ed's eyes went wide. "I have a scar because of you so it's only fair if I return the favour. And didn't I say I'll burn an arm of yours?"

He smirked and snapped.

Ed screamed.

"FULLMETAL, DAMMIT ED WAKE UP!"

Eyes wide open, panting, sitting upright. Edward didn't know where he was, what was real, what not.

"Finally!"

Ed flinched, tried to get away from that voice, that man. He tried to run and struggled when someone caught him. Panic. Fighting instincts kicked in, had him writhing in the others grip.

"Mr. Mustang, please step away and get out of the way!" A woman, a nurse. There to look after his burned arm? Maybe. He didn't care, didn't want to look. He couldn't feel the injury, it must be a third degree burn, skin and nerves too damaged to send the pain signal.

Rustling around him, a needle in his arm before he could even think about getting away from the wretched thing. And then he went calm.

He felt like he should be on high alert but he was calm. Oh, it must have been the needle.

Cradling his burned arm to his chest he stared at the ceiling, waiting for the drugs to wear off. He hated being drugged.

Finally Edward felt somewhat clear again and sat up to shake the last bit of lethargy off. Movement next to him made him stiffen and he turned to see Mustang looking at him.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Ed felt like laughing. The man who'd hurt him asked if he was alright. Hilarious.

But then he frowned, once again realising that his arm wasn't hurting, as it should after being burned. Plus, Mustang didn't look as smug as he should. Instead he seemed rather worn out, like he didn't get much sleep. So Ed looked down and was greeted with an arm that was perfectly fine.

"You didn't burn it." he said, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Burn what?" Mustang seemed just as confused as he was.

"My arm."

The colonel frowned as he digested that answer. "Is that what you dreamed about and woke up from in a panic?" he finally asked.

"Dreamed..." Ed repeated slowly. Yes, that was probably it. He must have dreamed it, why else was his arm perfectly unblemished despite a small scratch from the train wreck?

Mustang looked down at his hands. "It's because I threatened you when you kept me from killing that damn homunculus, isn't it?" he wanted to know, sounding as ashamed as a usually proud man can.

"I- I guess." Ed felt stupid for not being able to tell dream from reality once he woke up. He scratched at his neck, swallowing before asking: "Would you have done it? If Hawkeye hadn't been there helping me to get you back on track, would you have done it?"

Now Mustang definitely looked ashamed. "I really don't know," he quietly admitted. "I was so angry I wasn't myself, couldn't think clearly. But... if I'd done it... just know I would have felt guilty for the rest of my life. I would never forgive myself for hurting you."

"Are you just saying that to keep me functioning?" It was an idiotic question, the colonel could just lie, but still. Ed couldn't help but blurt it out.

Mustang stared at him. "Keep you func- what?!" He shook his head. "I'm not as much of a manipulator as you think I am, Fullmetal." He then stated, sounding clipped in favour of suppressing a probably hurt tone. But then his demeanour softened. "I'm sorry if it looks like I'm just putting up an act. I just can't do any better than I do now."

Ed couldn't help but smile a tiny smile, half bitter, half fond. "It's okay. It's actually more than enough what you do, even if it was just pretense."

"It's not-"

"It's okay." Ed repeated, still with that smile. Because really, even if it was pretense, as long as Mustang was still willing to keep it up despite all the trouble it had already gotten him, it was good enough for Edward. He had come to depend on the colonel so much and it wasn't so bad, helped him keep going. And keep going and living on was what he'd promised Al to do. The promise had seemed like a burden at first, denying him to just lie down and end the suffering, but with Mustang there it had actually seemed worth to be kept, like maybe he still was good for something and could make Al proud before seeing him again, should afterlife exist after all. Like Al could forgive him for everything Ed felt he'd done wrong to his brother, should their souls really not just perish like their bodies upon death.

And Al had always been one to be happy for others, Ed knew his little brother would smile if he'd see him sit on the colonel's couch, talking animatedly to the man while the Flame cooked pancakes without milk even though he could drive Ed up the wall so perfectly by pouring a generous amount of the disgusting cow juice into the bowl right before Ed's eyes.

So yes, he felt like even pretenses could make him happy enough and like he could even accept that happiness.

Mustang sighed. "It shouldn't be, not like that. You shouldn't say "It's okay" when you think I might be lying."

Edward shrugged. "It's the best I'll ever get, I guess."

The colonel looked downright appalled. Then he actually face-palmed. "You idiot! You complete moron! This is probably the tenth time I tell you, but you deserve so much good after having so much bad happening to you and still staying a good person. Yet you still act like a horse with blinders put on the wrong way around! You only look back instead of seeing what is in front of you! Dammit, look around you! There are so many people who want to see you happy, so many good experiences just waiting for you to make them! I know it's hard to get over the past and I'm a hypocrite and probably the most incapable person to help you but still... " In a rare show of not knowing what to say Mustang flailed his hands around once, then let them drop to his side, looking at Ed with resignation. "Just what does it take to finally convince you that I meant every word I ever said about helping you, supporting you and caring for you?!"

Ed blinked at him, stunned. Then he looked down, staring at his hands as he thought about that question. He hated to admit this because he knew that within half an hour after this conversation there would be a smart remark about his height or some other sort of teasing and Mustang would probably never stop being a smug, annoying bastard, but still, he wanted to believe the colonel. He wanted the man's care, bantering, friendly insults and horseplay included. He wanted to know that Mustang would be there for him no matter what, that even if he dropped out of the military Mustang wouldn't abandon him. He wanted what he'd tried to fix ever since his father left, what he'd tried to fix by looking after Al and attempting to bring their mother back. But was the colonel just a very good actor or was he really willing to be friends, to be family, for lifetime?

Well, to get his answer Edward had to answer Mustang's question first.

So he took a deep breath and said, "Adopt me."