AN: Welcome back, guys. I've had this chapter finished for ages but I didn't want to post anything until after my Finals, which ended today! I did well, even though it's been very stressful. In other news, I have started a new relationship, which may or may not interfere with my writing time, seeing as I am at her house almost every day. But I'll do my best to get chapters out as soon as possible. I hope you enjoy!

Puppet Chapter Nineteen

'Ed…?'

His heart had stopped, his mouth dry and throat constricted as he gazed into James' hazel eyes. Time had ground to a stop, the gears in his mind going in reverse, taking him back to the last time he'd seen James. Laying on a metal table, sobbing violently as Ed raised an automail blade.

Blood. Hate, so much hate and anger and devastation. The world spiraling inward to ignite itself and leave nothing but soot and wreckage in its wake. Tan skin paling and hazel eyes dulling with shock. The feel of a hand on his shoulder petting him and encouraging him, whispering words of pride and affection. His muscles trembling, hands shaking and the sickening, warm feel of blood speckling his skin all over.

'James…' it was less than a whisper but more than a breath, and Ed could only stand frozen as the brunette swung his legs out of the bed and rushed forward. Ed expected a fist in his jaw, for hands to wrap around his neck, so the arms that wound around him tightly and the head that buried itself in his chest was a surprise.

James shook violently and Ed embraced the teenager after the surprise had worn off. It had been almost two years since he'd seen his student. Somehow he'd been hoping that all of what happened was a nightmare- that James had never been taken with him- but the trembling mess of the boy in his arms proved him wrong in the worst of ways. And Ed's heart was wrenching in a dozen different directions, shattering and warming like the remains of a broken bottle being bathed in sunlight upon a gritty sidewalk.

James was babbling, clutching onto him in such a way that had Ed falling apart inside, 'I thought you were de- dead. They told me you died. That they killed you. The doctors said you were alive but I didn't believe them. Samuel always told me you were dead, but you… you're alive! I can't believe it. I'm so sorry, sir, Ed, I'm so sorry…'

What is he sorry for? Ed thought grimly, this is all my fault. The Drachmans and then Artabanus wanted me, not him.

But he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. Floundering for words, he just held James tighter, ignoring the strong smell of antibiotics and chemicals that clung to them both, 'I'm sorry, James, I'm sorry.'

The world held still for a while longer, with just the two of them plastered to each other, sharing so much with just that embrace. All the terror, the stress, the hopelessness of the past year communicated between them, but also the relief and hesitant hope began to blossom. For the first time since being "rescued", Ed began to feel like this all really was real- that it wasn't some dream that would end one of the times that he closed his eyes. It was such a strange feeling.

He was standing here with James in a hospital surrounded by the military instead of going through his usual daily routine. Instead of Artabanus hovering in the doorway with folded arms and an unreadable smile, it was Mustang.

When teacher and student finally drew apart enough for Ed to lead them back to James' bed, time finally began again. And so did the wild maelstrom of Ed's emotions. But he'd been getting better at focusing on the present and ignoring the tumultuous struggle in his head, and just in a few hours. Of course that could change at any moment, and he knew that. The fever had probably made everything worse so now that he was on medicine he was feeling more stable.

I'm not sure I could handle a repeat of yesterday. It was too much.

Shaking himself, he focused back on James, who was just looking over him again and again, head to toes, as if he couldn't believe his teacher really was alive.

A tinge of murderous intention worked its way into Ed's chest as he thought about James' words, Yeah, of course they'd tell him I was dead. It would only help in breaking him, in molding him to their desires. Sick fucking animals. They're lucky Mustang won't let me out of this hospital.

'James, how… are you injured at all?' Asking the boy how he was would be ridiculous and offensive. Neither of them was alright.

James shook his head with a watery smile, 'No, I'm fine. They never hurt me after…'

With the trailing off of those words, the gut-gnawing guilt was back, making his heart chill with frost. Ed glanced at Mustang, who was still standing in the doorway but was casually turned toward the hallway as if trying to give them as much privacy as possible.

'James, you know I would never… I would never have done that if I… I didn't… I'm sorry…'

The warm hand that grabbed his shoulder surprised him again, and he met James' fierce eyes, 'That wasn't your fault, sir- Ed. I know that he made you. I saw the alchemy.'

Ed's brows raised, even as the sickness inside him just strengthened at James' understanding, 'You saw it?'

'Yeah, it was like this purple glow underneath your skin where he touched you. I remember it looked like there was purple light following your muscles and veins. It was really strange, but I knew it was alchemy. I could feel it. What kind of alchemy was that? I've never even heard of it before!'

Confusion swarmed through Ed and he could only shake his head a bit in response. He knew what kind of alchemy it was- Artabanus had explained it to him before. Some kind of bio-alchemy. But he'd never noticed any sort of color or anything whenever Artabanus used it on him. How had James seen it but he hadn't?

Purple, huh…?

A flash of violet.

'Come now, Edward, stop fighting it.'

'Fuck… you…'

Another flash of violet, brighter, his muscles shaking so hard that he could have sworn they were going to rip right through his skin, his heart so labored it was beating out of his chest. Head screaming and the feel of blood trickling down his lips from his nose made him question fighting, but he couldn't let Artabanus keep winning, keep doing this to him.

He didn't want to play into these sick fantasies anymore, not willingly, not when he could fight as hard as he could against the alchemy even if it killed him.

It was almost like a powerful rebound going at a fraction its normal speed, and happening inside of him. He could almost imagine how the energy from the circles on Artabanus' fingertips were being interrupted by the sheer denial and rejection of his will. Alchemy, he had learned over his travels, was actually a very spiritual thing. A wonderful, frightening, powerful thing that was both based in science and spirituality. Once Ed had worked that out in his mind and found a way to counteract Artabanus' alchemy inside his body, he had been practicing ever since. Kept pushing against the alchemy in a way that felt immaterial and useless at first, but after a while he began to succeed, even if it was just succeeding in keeping his eyes on the floor when Artabanus commanded him to look up. Every success was a milestone against this alchemy.

Except, the very nature of his rebellion technically did cause rebound, an already incredibly dangerous event which was increased thousand-fold by the fact that it was happening inside his body.

'Edward, you're going to kill yourself,' the words were warm against his cheek and the lips that pressed a kiss there had Ed multiplying his attempts yet again at keeping the alchemy at bay, even as he was distracted by the mouth that began to work against his own.

The cold, long-fingered hand that was digging into his hip pressed harder, almost breaking the blonde's concentration completely. But he couldn't give up.

'Artabanus, I don't like having to fight this, but I can't do this anymore. I can't let you force me to go along with this.'

A soft laugh puffed across his lips, making him want to turn his head away, but he held still. Fighting the alchemy and gently convincing Artabanus to stop was the combination he needed. Eventually he would tire, so he knew he had to talk Artabanus out of this and quickly. Already he'd been fighting against the transmutations surging through him for a few minutes, and the blood that was continuing to roar in his skull and slip from his nose was getting worse. His body was being wrecked slowly, tearing apart and failing on the inside. He wondered how long it would be before his heart stopped from the strain.

'Your body tells me that you want to do this,' the hand that grazed between Ed's legs made his concentration waver significantly again, and there was another flash of violet from his hip when he threw himself back into focus, 'it's your stubborn head that won't let you enjoy it. You need to just let go, Edward. Don't you love me?'

Another burst of violet, another shuddering gasp from Ed when the hand between his legs became more eager, another agonizing pulse in his head. He couldn't have answered if he wanted to. He was so weak, so tired. All that he could do was cling to the willpower that he was forcing up against Artabanus' alchemy like a shield. A minute passed… then another… and the pain in Ed's skull and body became so severe that he began to tremble violently under Artabanus' hands.

He was almost in too much pain to be relieved when the alchemy disappeared completely. Artabanus was scowling down at him now, blue eyes flashing with a familiar exasperated, fond, amused anger.

'Fine. If you want no alchemy, we'll do no alchemy.'

Ed wanted to fight against the hands that were binding his wrists behind his back, wanted to struggle when Artabanus began disrobing him quickly and efficiently. Wanted to shout and yell and attack the Ukreytan alchemist when Artabanus began taking what he wanted anyway.

But he was exhausted. And the only thing he could think of as he fell unconscious from the pain was that at least his body hadn't become a puppet in Artabanus' hands again.

'-d…? Ed. We're here Ed. Come back to us, you're alright. We're in the hospital,' Mustang's voice was level and completely calm, unlike the panicked questions that were a background to the General's words.

Blinking slowly, it took several moments before Ed's unfocused eyes to make out the form of Mustang, who was standing a foot or two away from him with just one hand reaching out and shaking Ed's shoulder gently. James was behind Mustang, pacing and staring wide-eyed at his teacher with concern set deep into his mouth and brow. Ed cleared his throat and straightened, realizing he was sitting on the edge of James' bed, left hand so tightly wound around the metal pole that served as the footboard that he had to work on prying his fingers away from it. Even after he set his hand against his knee, the knuckles were still attempting to fade back to their normal color.

'How long was I out?' he asked quietly, finally meeting Mustang's dark, calm eyes. The lack of panic or fear there comforted Ed, and he didn't want to look away from those comforting pools of gray onyx.

'About five minutes,' the General answered, letting go of Ed's shoulder and stepping to the side so that James could sit back on the bed beside Ed. The blonde kept his eyes on Mustang, though, not wanting to risk falling back into whatever that was. Even thinking about it was drawing him back, making him feel the same terror, exhaustion, pain, anger, fear, everything. The thousands of tiny things that tore him apart during that time.

During that memory that he had no memory of. When had that happened?

During the year I can't remember…?

Feeling ill, he did his best to focus on Mustang. The neat quality of the man's slicked-back midnight hair, the crease on his brow, the narrowness of the his sharp, intelligent eyes. The bold cheekbones and elegant yet strong jaw line. The lips that were shadowed in one corner in an almost-frown. The stiffness of his shoulders and the tightness of his crossed arms. Ed pondered at how the Mustang's uniform seemed to hang off of him in some places, concave against his stomach where it used to be at least a bit clingy. Just how much weight had Mustang lost in the past couple of years? And why?

After just observing Mustang for awhile, which he was sure the General noticed but didn't choose to comment on, Ed finally began to become comfortable once more, that foreboding and dark panic receding like a storm across the horizon of his soul. Sinking back into himself and forcibly relaxing his own muscles, he let out a stuttering sigh and finally turned back to James. The boy was still looking him over worriedly, so Ed gave him a reassuring smile.

'I'm alright, James, sorry about that. It was just a… what do we call them, Mustang?'

The man's dark eyes lit on his for just a moment before turning away again, 'Which one of "them" are you referring to? The flashback or the anxiety attack?'

'See, James? General Mustang is being a sarcastic bastard. That means I'm alright for sure- nothing to be concerned about.'

The snort that came from Mustang and the choked laugh from James made Ed smile warmly.

Maybe I can do this Edward Elric thing after all.

The next few days passed with relative peace. Every morning Ed would wake up around seven or eight, get up and walk around his room or sketch for a few hours before the nurses brought his breakfast, and then he would go see Doctor Nelson in the man's office. Every day the doctor would ask about what he remembered, what he experienced, and although Ed knew it was all for medical purposes, he hadn't been very cooperative. Around noon Al and Winry would come in and the three of them would spend hours together talking and just basking in each others' presence. When they left in the evening, Ed would go and sit with James until it was time for dinner. And then he would be taken back to his own room with hours to agonize in the lonely darkness.

Strange how… wrong… it felt not to have a body cradling his when he tried to go to sleep. He'd gotten so used to Artabanus' arms wrapped around him and the feel of the man pressed against his back that Ed was constantly tossing and turning at night, never truly able to feel right enough to get a good night's rest.

Winry finished updating his automail and the reattachment procedure was the gentlest he'd ever received from his childhood friend. Every time the girl touched or even looked at him, it was like she was memorizing everything about him just in case. Al was the same way the first couple of days but he finally began relaxing around his big brother, letting the bright and ecstatic reality take hold that Ed was there to stay.

Mustang came around at least once a day as the days passed into a week, but military matters kept dragging him away.

Over the past few days, Ed learned that the class he was teaching had been put on hold since he'd been missing, since the university didn't really have anybody else that matched his qualifications, other than Alphonse, but they'd rightfully thought it was too indecent to ask the brother of their missing teacher. A few of the Amestrian children that had been rescued along with James were already being let out of the hospital and into the care of their families, who had all sworn to get the children psychological care. Just like Ed had warned, all the boys were mutilated between their legs, and didn't go home the same innocent kids they once were. Most of the families talked about putting the boys into a private church schooling, which was the darkest irony Ed could think of.

James was apparently due to leave as soon as his family arrived from the East. His older sister Veronica was already on her way. She had apparently missed her brother very much, and was distraught on the telephone by what James' expression showed Ed. Again, that guilt had returned. James would never be the same, and it was all Ed's fault. Everything. But James seemed oddly optimistic every time Ed sat down to play a game of chess with the teenager before dinner. Ed listened as his student talked about completing his education at the university and then going to travel to Aerugo with Veronica. Curious but not wanting to appear totally insensitive, Ed didn't voice his queries about how James was ever going to have a romantic relationship- get married… he certainly couldn't have children anymore. So much from a life, stolen in one swift gesture that Ed had performed.

It was almost too much to bear sometimes.

The other children weighed on his mind like constant shadows crying for his help as well. He kept thinking about the ones that they saved, who were apparently still being interviewed by the military but were staying quiet. And then the ones that were still missing…

Mustang assured him every day that they were looking, that Intelligence was doing their best investigating Helltem, and the Northwest had already increased military presence. Apparently the story about the Fullmetal Alchemist had spread and the fact that he- along with several children- had been kidnapped by a religious, foreign group. The national attention had pushed the Fuhrer to provide more resources to Mustang and the rest of Western command. The abduction of children was always a touchy subject for the public, so Mustang had come forward to several journalists and informed them of a watered-down version of the situation, encouraging the journalists to put in the papers that the military was constantly searching for the children and that anyone who saw anybody suspicious or with a foreign Western dialect should contact the military outpost closest to them. So far there weren't any hits in that area but Mustang was confident the people would be vigilant and the Ukreytans would mess up eventually. Hawkeye and Breda had come out for a couple of days, making sure that radio signals were set up in the hospital for immediate communication back to Central, but had already departed before Ed barely had time to see them.

Ed wished he could join in the nationwide search, and it all seemed so small from where he was laying in the hospital bed. So small and far away, making him more and more frustrated as the days passed without any word about the children. Once or twice Al had hesitantly offered to go and search himself, saying that he would do whatever his brother needed him to do. The gesture was such a kind and warm one that Ed found himself choked up each time, and selfishly telling Al to stay. Ed wasn't sure he could be apart from Al just yet. Not so soon after they'd just reunited.

Winry had become a messenger and errand-runner between the hospital and Western Command, constantly moving between the two. Since everybody was usually up and moving around away from telephones, Winry was the go-to girl now. Ed was amused every time Winry came storming into his room, exhausted, and collapsed onto the side of his bed. She would rant and grumble about how unfair it was that she had been somehow pulled in to help the military, but never really brought Mustang's name into it directly which calmed Ed. Mustang and Winry had never really gotten along, stemming from the day that the man came to Resembool to offer Ed and Al a future. Maybe that's what was still bothering her recently. Winry never badmouthed Mustang, no, but sometimes when the General entered the room and Winry was present, she would give the man the strangest look. A look that Ed had never seen on her face before- it almost read as threatened and angry, but not either of them. The frown creasing the corner of her mouth, the furrow of her brows, the simmer of something behind her gorgeous oceanic eyes. Ed just couldn't figure it out, though.

Other than that, the borders had been reinforced with more military patrols- the western and southern borders into Amestris had apparently already been blocked, no immigration or other transport allowed, since the Drachmans' attempted invasion two years ago. Negotiations and attempted peace between Drachma and Amestris was still continuing, and probably would take another few years to really be on friendly terms once again. It's amazing the Ukreytans somehow had been getting through the blocked border in the first place, with all the Amestrian military personnel scouring those areas in case of any more Drachman terrorists. There had to be some group of Amestrian soldiers that had been letting them through.

Ed mentioned this to Mustang the next time the General visited, and he somberly agreed, promising to get another Investigations unit from Central to take a look into it.

So many resources were being thrown into the whole ordeal that Ed wanted to feel like they would get to the children in time and stop the Ukreytans, but he was still weighed down by an inexplicable foreboding and guilt.

After talking to Mustang, Ed was surprised by the appearance of Dr. Marcoh, who without preamble began to take a rigorous physical examination of his body. Ed was humiliated when the man lifted a brow at the scars on his leg, abdomen, wrists, and neck, and didn't say a word until the man left muttering. Apparently whatever Marcoh had discovered during that short physical had him frustrated. Or rather, what he didn't discover, Ed reflected.

In any case, not only did he have Doctor Nelson hovering over him like a hawk, now there was Marcoh. The blonde guessed he was lucky they hadn't tried to force him to see a head doctor yet. A "psychologist".

Ridiculous.

Alphonse had remained a constant fixture by his side, which he took strength from when he had difficult moments, moments where he would open his eyes confused about where he was, thinking that he was still in the compound somehow. And although the curiosity was obvious in his younger brother's eyes, Al never once questioned him afterward when he would ask where Artabanus was.

Ed hadn't told anyone much about Artabanus, even when Mustang patiently asked about the strange alchemy he had used. Ed didn't know why, but every time he opened his mouth to talk about his captor, an enormous, gut-wrenching sense of wrongness came over him and he couldn't get a single word out. Like he would somehow be betraying Artabanus by talking about the man.

But what is there to betray? He is the monster here… why should I care…?

It annoyed and frustrated him to no end but he was determined to try and not think about it as much as possible. He had plenty of other things to think about.

Two weeks passed. Weeks in which Ed's body slowly began to heal, and his mind slowly following as well. The episodes were becoming less and less frequent, now down to just one or two every few days, which was a relief to everybody. The nightmares remained a painful constant, but despite that the days in which Ed woke up knowing where he was and who he was were increasing.

And so Ed woke up on a Friday morning, blessedly devoid of confusion and panic for the third day in a row. Staring at the white ceiling of his hospital room, he let a small smile curl his lips before he closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

'I am Edward Elric,' he whispered to himself, 'brother of Alphonse Elric, friend of Winry Rockbell, ally of Roy Mustang…'

…teacher of the boy I mutilated. Lover of the man I hate.

He opened his eyes tiredly, focusing on the sunlight that streamed through the window and warmed his legs in golden stripes. The sound of birds still chirping excitedly in anticipation of the new day was nearly drowned out by the occasional passing car. Outside the closed door, the sounds of muffled voices, harried footsteps, and clatter of metal oscillated randomly, indicating the hospital was already in full swing. There was just the slightest of chills that crept its way through the thin blanket that was wrapped around his body like a flimsy cocoon. Although, Ed could barely feel it. His body was feeling strangely numb this morning, and once he began to consider sitting up and reaching for his papers and pen, he automatically felt too exhausted and gave up the thought. A dark, strangled feeling began to take hold of his insides, a familiar feeling from when he'd been held captive. In the same way as back then, he couldn't find the will in him to move a single inch in bed. And this time he didn't have Artabanus' hands to force him up and around like he did back then.

He was curled in on himself, eyes sightlessly focused on the wall, hands limply curled in front of his face. He had awakened like this and felt so tired… so weak… he didn't want to move. Even as he felt Artabanus behind him begin to stir, the arms tightening around his waist, he couldn't sit up or untangle himself from the redhead, or even mutter a good morning. It was like he was paralyzed, except he knew he wasn't. He could do any of those things if he desired it, he just didn't. Didn't want to. Didn't know how. Didn't. It took a few minutes for Artabanus to finally wake up fully, and the man gave a pleased hum when he realized that Ed was awake but hadn't moved from his arms. A warm press of lips against Ed's temple didn't faze the blonde one bit. His vacant eyes still stared straight ahead, barely registering the burn of them staying open for so long. Words were murmured into his hair before Artabanus began climbing out of bed. A flash of loss dug into Ed's chest when the arms left his middle, but he quelled it quickly and silently.

He wasn't sure how long passed before Artabanus' concerned and exasperated face crouched down in front of his eyes.

'Edward, my dearest. Do you hear me? It is much too late to still be laying around. There is work to be done.'

Leave me alone, was the desperate, faint, exhausted thought that flitted through the blonde's mind, but he could no more speak the words than he could lift himself from the bed. It was impossible to even comprehend doing at the moment.

At his lack of response, Artabanus sighed and reached a hand out to grasp Ed's limp left palm, 'Up we go, my dearest.'

It was agonizing to be forced to move, and for a moment his body protested so much that he didn't move, which obviously surprised Artabanus by the flicker of shock in the man's blue eyes. But a moment later Ed's body was sitting itself up, despite the mental, physical, and emotional torture it caused.

Artabanus was quiet for another few moments after making Ed stand up at his side, gazing calculatingly at his young lover.

But then he smiled, the critical expression smoothing out into something warm and endearing, 'Don't worry my dearest, you will feel better after we have breakfast. Come, let us get your young bones moving.'

Strangely enough, Ed had felt better after breakfast, even managed a brief conversation or two with Artabanus throughout the day. The swell of gratitude he felt towards Artabanus was both nauseating and a relief. And when the older alchemist wrapped his arms around his waist that night, Ed turned around and embraced him back, relieved by the lack of cold and numbness that had stricken him that morning. The shaky sigh into his hair and the tightening of those arms made him burrow closer, even as Artabanus' voice nearly ruined this moment of comfort.

'Edward, never leave me my love.'

The dark shadows dipping in and out of those stone walls receded slowly, being replaced by the sterile, flat whiteness of the ceiling above him. Swallowing tightly, Ed blinked a few times, willing the last vestiges of the memory away and trying to smother the aching in his chest. Again, the emptiness around his waist where arms were once wrapped securely seemed blaringly obvious and lonely. Cold, even. Mentally shaking himself, he almost wanted to summon the strength to sit up so he could bury his face in his hands.

What the fuck is wrong with me? How the fuck could I actually miss that son of a bitch? It doesn't make sense!

Frustration burned at his eyes like acid and the ghost of a scowl creased his lips. Still, he couldn't find the energy to sit up and face the day. He would rather wallow in the idiotic feelings and thoughts he was having.

Well, maybe it's not that I miss him… maybe it's just that I've grown used to the physical part of him holding me.

A less worrying, but still sickening thought. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, reigning in the emotions that were beginning to run rampant throughout his body again. He'd worked hard during the past week to begin rebuilding whatever it was inside of him that was broken- whatever was causing the chaos inside- but whatever progress he'd made was being crippled at that moment. And now everything was just swirling around in that darkness, like flashes of lightening being swallowed by the black, billowing skies of a hungry storm.

Through the thunder inside him, though, he began to hone in on something outside of himself. A steady, familiar scratch of pen across paper, then the occasional pause. The crackle of parchment being moved and the clearing of a throat.

It took Ed back to his younger teenage years, when he would sometimes sneak away from Al every now and then and take residence on Mustang's couch in his office whenever they were in the area. He would close his eyes and settle against the uncomfortable cushions, then just listen to his commander while the man did paperwork. Mustang would never say much about Ed's random appearances, other than giving a sardonically raised brow and roll of his eyes before returning his attention to the desk. Ed appreciated the silent acceptance. The strangest fantasies would come to the blonde during those times that he would lay on Mustang's couch and listen to him work. Fantasies Ed now attributed to him going through puberty, a confusing and terrifying experience for him since nobody ever really talked about it to him before, and he was either too busy or embarrassed to ask about the body changes taking place. Of course he had a slight knowledge of the subject, but had no idea the sorts of thoughts that would go through his head.

Like imagining Mustang leaning over the couch to kiss him, or how the man would look naked. The kinds of thoughts that made him flush with shame even now.

Speaking of the bastard…

Bemusement overpowered the debilitating darkness that was finally beginning to fade, and he managed to turn his head to the right, where Mustang was stationed in a metal chair a foot away from the bed, between Ed and the door. The blonde smiled softly at the sight of the dark head bowed over a clipboard balanced precariously on a knee that was crossed over his other leg. An ink pen was being twirled lazily through the man's gloved fingers, a furrow in his brow that displayed his frustration clearly. It was such a familiar sight that Ed had the bubbling urge to laugh hysterically.

Mustang happened to look up just as the bright grin began growing on Ed's face. The small, relieved smile the man gave in return had Ed's heart soaring with blazing warmth.

Fuck I missed him…

'It looked like you were miles away, so I decided to wait it out,' Mustang said, voice calm and level even though it held a feather-light undertone.

'I wish you wouldn't talk like I'm made of glass,' Ed sighed, even though he was still smiling, 'when did you come in?'

With a glance at the clock on the far wall, Mustang shrugged, moving the papers from his lap and setting them on the bedside table where Ed's journal lay, 'About ten minutes ago. I thought you were asleep for a moment but your eyes were open.'

'Maybe I sleep with my eyes open,' pushing himself up into a sitting position was slightly exhausting but Ed managed it, strength seeming to grow the more that Mustang talked and looked at him.

Weird.

Mustang scoffed loudly, dark eyes dancing with mirth, 'You used to sleep on my couch, Ed. I know your sleeping habits- from your closed eyes to your steam engine snoring.'

Laughing, Ed couldn't help grinning wider, 'Speaking of which! I was just thinking about those times.'

The smile they shared spoke highly of the fond memories, and a comfortable silence settled between them, in which Ed was perfectly content to bathe in the warmth. Mustang surprised him eventually by rising just to pull his chair closer to the bed, so that his knees pressed against the side of the mattress when he sat down next. This left just a foot of space between their faces and Ed found his heart clenching in a most illogical way. He swallowed, wondering if he was feeling anxious or excited, or both. The shift of Mustang's smile into something serious and careful made Ed's chest tighten harder. He didn't know what he expected, but the man's next words weren't it.

'Ed, we've had a report come through from Elxomir. You know where that is, in the north?' At Ed's nod, Mustang continued somberly, 'A man owning a shop there reported that he had a group of foreigners come in yesterday who had odd accents that ordered a very large supply of grains. Mass supplies. In such large numbers that at first he thought they were military, but when he saw an article in the courier about the kidnappings he reported it to Northern HQ immediately.'

Ed's heart jerked in a completely different way and relief, anxiety, and fear began to battle inside of him.

That could be it. That could definitely be them. Then…

'Ed. Do you think the Ukreytans will follow a similar pattern as before? Holing up in ruins nearby?'

'Yes,' he answered without even thinking, 'they feel safest away from public attention, and people tend to avoid old ruins these days. Some kind of fear of the supernatural, is how it was explained to me. Plus, if they had been staying in cities or towns surely somebody would have noticed them. No, they probably have a couple of bases set up in the remnants of old towns around Amestris. And there are plenty to choose from,' Ed added that last part grimly, which Mustang obviously understood by his empathetic nod.

'If that's the case, the three closest places they could be hiding are Yeyeim, Haoi, or Xiyhere. Those have been abandoned for centuries; they were old Drachman towns that were decimated as the Xerxians conquered Amestris.'

Briefly wishing Mustang had brought a map with him, Ed considered the General's words before furrowing his brow, 'Which is closest to Elxomir?'

'Yeyeim. It's only about twenty kilometers from Elxomir.'

'That's it. That's where they are,' Ed said confidently, straightening up and suddenly feeling a rush of adrenaline, the urge to jump out of bed and rush straight north consuming him.

Mustang gave him a long look, one that dragged Ed back to vibrant nights and smoky bars, with those eyes gazing speculatively at him over musing words and confusing smiles, 'How are you so sure?'

'They always supply at the closest towns and cities. They wouldn't want to travel more than thirty kilometers away from their base at the very most. They may have good profit,' at which Ed scowled furiously, 'but they always hated having to spend it on fuel for their cars. Trust me, Mustang. They're in Yeyeim.'

The General nodded, then hesitated, and Ed had the distinct feeling that Mustang wasn't telling him something. Something important. But he couldn't think about that further before the man was rising, dragging the chair away from the bed once more.

'Understood. Thank you Ed. I'm going to be leading two teams to Yeyeim within the hour. With any luck we'll have this wrapped up by nightfall and this nightmare will be officially over.'

Although Ed immediately wanted to demand that he go along, the memory of the last time stifled that request before it could even leave his lips. Discomfited by the fact that Mustang was going without him, but at the same time relieved and worried, he couldn't really find any words about the situation. Mustang didn't seem to mind as he simply stood at Ed's bedside, hands sliding into his coat pockets as he regarded the blonde. So many things danced through the General's eyes that Ed couldn't possibly hope to keep up with or comprehend.

'I'll be back.'

It was a promise spoken with conviction and emotion that Ed hadn't expected. Again and again, Mustang was catching him off-guard. Blinking up at the handsome General, Ed sighed, rolled his eyes, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. For a moment he struggled to stand but Mustang didn't hesitate to help him on his feet. Usually Ed would be irritated, but the whirlwind of emotion whipping through his soul couldn't seem to care.

His fingers curled themselves in Mustang's collar and Ed let his forehead fall forward onto the man's chest, soaking in the feeling of the arms that loosely embraced his shoulders in response.

Light and darkness slashed through his ribs like shards of glass and a warm salve, leaving destruction and peace in their wake. Surrounded by Roy, he almost felt like everything was alright. That the chaos inside his heart and mind was okay.

Wishing he could immerse himself in that halo longer, Ed forced himself to just barely lean back, enough to catch Roy's eyes, 'You'd better come back.'

The man's pale lips twitched and he leaned down, making Ed's heart jolt in surprise for a moment before it settled warmly. Their foreheads pressed together, Ed imagined he could almost hear the General's thoughts spinning around that cunning, manipulative brain of his. With a sigh that ghosted across Ed's lips, Roy retreated, leaving the room without a backward glance and leaving Ed to drop back onto the bed.

Confusion, warmth, and worry remained with the blonde, curling around him as he glanced over at the paperwork that Roy had left. He picked the stack of paper up and let his flesh fingers trace over the General's scrawling handwriting, a smile creasing the corner of his mouth.

I thought he was going to...

Nah, this is Mustang I'm thinking about. There's no way he would.

Would he…?

The heat radiating outward from his chest was odd in that it was almost painful, but at the same time it melted through the iciness that seemed to constantly be coating his insides. It was a welcome relief to the numbness but Ed swallowed, brow furrowing as he realized the source of the almost nirvana-like experience.

Mustang.

AN: End of Chapter Nineteen. Thank you guys so much for sticking with me thus far! Leave a review and let me know what you loved/hated? :) I'll see you lovely people in the next chapter!