A/N: well. i am so sorry for that terribly misleading fluffy prologue - its now time for the soul-crushing angst (the REAL purpose of this fic). at least i hope it's soul crushing. this entire fic got way out of hand. i just cant stop.

For Ed, time passed much too quickly before the clock chimed 5:00 pm and they had to be on their way. The former alchemist was reluctant to put down the book and, instead of abandoning it in the apartment, tucked it safely into his inner coat pocket and brought it with him. It was likely he wouldn't get a chance to read it at Mrs. Heiderich's place, but it was enough just to know it was with him. Alfons gave Ed a look he couldn't quite place.

Without much talking, they ambled down the stairs of the apartment and out into the biting December air. Alfons followed behind Edward, letting him set the pace. The younger boy wordlessly watched as Ed climbed in the backseat, understanding that Alfons would be driving. Somehow, it had become an unspoken agreement that while Ed drove a majority of the year, Alfons was needed to drive in colder climates. While Edward didn't often complain outright, he knew in colder and inclimate weather Ed's prosthetics tended to stiffen, becoming harder to move and what remained of his torn up limbs always ached. It made him slow to react and it lead to rather distracted driving as well. It became Alfons' responsibility to drive in the winter.

It was probably for the best; Ed could be a bit of a reckless driver in the best conditions. Even in this slick weather, Alfons couldn't stop the car from skidding a little, but he always got control back quickly. He didn't want to know what would've happened if Ed was at the wheel, especially if he was hindered in some capacity.

Alfons glanced in the rearview mirror as he started the car and noticed Ed had pulled the book out of his pocket again and continued to skim through it. He was simultaneously digging into his right shoulder, trying to alleviate some of the pain. Alfons shifted his attention back to what was in front of him as he pulled onto a road barely illuminated by street lights. It was hard to imagine his friend was actually trying to read in this crummy lighting, but Alfons didn't try to stop him.

It was a quiet journey out into the suburbs of Munich. Alfons didn't mind — it was easier to concentrate on the roadway ahead. The streets hadn't been cleared and it was rather treacherous to be driving right now, so the scientist drove slowly and cautiously. He might be a bit late. His mother lived fairly far away and Alfons hadn't been able to visit her much with all the work that had piled up. He was glad to take a break for a little while.

The dirt roads they were traveling on we're monotonous and bumpy, but in a way it was almost calming. They moved ahead at a sluggish pace, not making it to their intended destination until almost 20 minutes after they were due to arrive. Alfons parked the car on the street in front of a modest one-story house. The blue-eyed boy shifted in his seat to turn back and look at Ed.

"I almost forgot to tell you — my cousin and her parents are going to be here also. I hope you don't mind," Alfons smiled.

Ed looked up from where he was squinting at the pages, "Sure, I don't mind at all," he replied. He could handle a few more people.

"Good," Alfons beamed, "I'm sure they'll be glad to meet you,"

The younger boy stepped out of the car and helped his friend out as well. They sauntered up the walkway and stopped in front of a large, dark mahogany door with a wreath placed neatly in the center. Ed studied the old house. It was small, but it was well-kept and in good condition. Billows of smoke were floating up into the night sky, curling upwards from the chimney. The lights were on in almost every room and you could hear muffled laughter emanating from inside. It radiated light and warmth — a stark contrast to the dark, freezing atmosphere outside. Ed shivered.

Alfons was holding in one hand a cleanly wrapped gift that he'd bought for his mother. Ed knew what it was. His roommate had spent hours scouring different jewelry shops, with Ed in tow, searching for the nicest locket he could afford. Edward had quickly lost interest until Alfons had narrowed his efforts down to five necklaces. He had called his friend over to the jewelry counter and asked his opinion, but Ed had only stated that Alfons knew his mother best, so it should be his decision.

"Well, what would you get if it was for your mother?" Alfons had asked him next, which got Ed thinking. He looked closely and decided almost immediately on a clean, gold, oval-shaped locket with very fine flowers engraved into the surface. His mother had always loved flowers.

It had turned out to be the most expensive of the five, but Alfons didn't seem to care. Ed thought he wouldn't have cared either if it was for his mom. When they got back to the apartment, Alfons slid a photo of him on one side and a photo of his parents on the other side of the locket. His father had died in the war and he knew his mother still missed him terribly. Alfons did, too.

With his free hand, Alfons knocked politely on the door.

No amount of time could've prepared Ed for who answered it.

Light from inside flooded onto the porch, creating a silhouette of the woman who answered. Ed's eyes quickly adjusted and with it his heart rate and breathing followed too. His eyes widened. His hand started shaking. He could swear his heart had stuttered and then failed him, even though his pulse was stampeding through his ears. He was suddenly dying of thirst; his mouth felt like a desert and all the water that should have been there had retreated out through his pores. He almost wanted to run away but his legs didn't seem to be working. He thought maybe they were about to give out on him.

"Mom?" Ed mouthed inaudibly, horrified. No one noticed.

"Come on in, boys," she greeted, "Everyone else is already here,"

They were ushered inside. Ed swallowed. They were standing in the atrium with Mrs. Heiderich and Ed was afraid. He didn't even know what he was so scared of, but he was. Alfons began the introductions.

"Edward, this is my mother," he turned to her, "Mom, this is my friend, Ed,"

Trisha held out her hand and smiled at Ed, even though he was sure he was gaping. Gently, he held out his fake arm and weakly shook her slender fingers. He didn't want to hurt her. Not again. Not ever again.

His mom's face changed to accommodate a more confused expression, but only briefly as she realized the hand she'd grasped was fake.

"Nice to meet you, Edward," she gave a warm, genuine smile.

Ed almost forgot to say anything at all, "Oh — uh, n-no, the pleasure's a-all mine," it was almost a whisper.

Mrs. Heiderich turned to Alfons and gave him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. The blue-eyed boy looked sheepish as she pulled away, slightly embarrassed. Ed felt something twist in his gut, though his expression remained unchanged. It felt almost like a mixture of loneliness, yearning, and...jealousy.

Here was his mother, giving all her affection to her son — her only son, a son that wasn't him, wasn't Edward. It hurt all the worse because Alfons looked so much like his brother. Here was his beloved mother, who recognized Alfons and loved him; loved Edward's brother, but not Ed. The golden-haired boy cherished his mother to no end, but here, he meant nothing to her. He was just a stranger, and his mother didn't care about him or even know who he was. He suddenly felt alienated, like his family had cast him away and forgotten who he was entirely. It felt like he was standing on the outside, looking through a scratched-up, battered window. He stood there on the outside, watching Alfons and a mother that should've been his while trying to push away all the irrational anger he felt at them for not including him. This wasn't his family, he had no right to be angry, he had no right to be envious. He didn't belong here.

"Alfons, dear, why don't you introduce Edward to everyone else while I go finish up cooking, hm?" She proposed.

"Are you sure you don't need any help? I could help set up the table," the German boy offered.

"No, that's alright," she smiled — Ed's heart ached — "I've got it taken care of. But thank you,"

She swiveled on her heel to make her way back to the kitchen, "Oh, wait! Mom," Alfons extended his hand, "This is for you. Merry Christmas," he cheered.

Trisha accepted the gift and lightly pecked Alfons on the forehead, "Thank you, sweetheart. I'll open it after dinner," she spoke softly. Alfons nodded. Mrs. Heiderich walked off into the kitchen.

The younger boy turned to Ed and gave him a weird, concerned-looking grin, "Are you okay, Ed? You look kind of pale,"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm alright. I'm fine," he announced. He was sweating. His mind was moving a mile a minute but he still couldn't piece together a single coherent thought.

"Okay," Alfons didn't seem convinced, "Are you ready to meet everyone else, then?"

"Sure," Ed said uncertainly, putting on the most convincing smile he could muster up.

Alfons hung his coat in the closet along with Ed's, then turned, silently beckoning Edward to follow him. Edward could hear people talking in the next room over. Alfons strolled into the room a few paces ahead of Ed, in time for him to hear, but not see, a man loudly greet him with "Alfons! Long time, no see!" followed by a good-natured laugh. The shorter boy thought the voice sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it. It reminded him of something from his childhood; nebulous memories skirted the fringes of his mind, but he still couldn't recall anything very clearly.

Alfons waved him into the living room; Ed hadn't realized he'd stopped just short of clearing the corner. He took a few strides towards Alfons before looking up to get a glimpse of the room's occupants. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Alfons and took in the scene.

"Everyone, meet Edward,"

Ed froze. He stopped breathing. He didn't dare make a sound. His heart might've been racing before, but now it had slammed on the breaks and was trying to viciously claw it's way out of his chest. All the color drained from his skin and his stomach dropped ten stories. His eyes were wide as saucers and he couldn't stop them from darting around the room. He tried to glance at each person for more than a second, but his brain just wouldn't let him. It was too much for him, he couldn't handle it. This wasn't real. Ed felt weak. He felt light-headed and nauseous. He thought for sure he was about to pass out, or collapse, maybe even throw up a little. His knees were shaking with the urge to run away, get away from things he didn't understand and couldn't control.

I shouldn't have come here. I should never have come here. I have to leave. I can't stay here, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't.

His clothes were suddenly much too tight, even though he felt cold as ice and his bones weren't much sturdier than jelly. He was shaking so hard he was sure Alfons could feel it against his shoulder. His fake fingers rattled together with the force of his trembling. Ed took a shallow, wavering breath and tried to start his heart again with sheer force of will. It wasn't working. He felt like he was dying but no one seemed very concerned. He started panicking. Ed wanted to hide, or disappear or run away — just get out of here. But he couldn't move. None of his limbs were responding. He was frozen in place and why couldn't he move, dammit! This couldn't be real. He had to be dreaming or hallucinating or something. He felt dizzy, he took a step back to balance himself. How was he still standing? How was this happening to him? Why?

"No. No, please, no. No no no no," he breathed. This just couldn't be happening.

"Ed, this is my cousin Winry, my Aunt Sara, and my Uncle Urey,"

Alarms were going off in his head that refused be silenced. This was all wrong. This was so completely wrong and morbid and utterly unfathomable. At least half the people in this house should be dead. Ed was alive (right?) and he was walking through a graveyard. This wasn't some benign family reunion he'd been invited to, this was a dinner for ghosts. He was an unwitting guest here to receive judgment from unwitting tormentors. This was part of the nightmare he'd been sentenced to serve for breaking taboos again and sinning like he was impudent. He wasn't. If it hadn't been obvious before, it certainly was now.

Alfons subtly elbowed him, trying to get him to say something. Ed took another step back and raised his arms up slightly, almost as if in defense.

"Uh — um, h-hi," Ed whispered. He cleared his throat to try again, "Hello," he said, a little louder. It got stuck in his throat though and came out high-pitched and timid. Everyone gave him a strange look. Edward wished they would stop staring at him, it burned holes into his flesh. He couldn't stand having their eyes on him, his skin was crawling; he wanted a large crevice to crack open in the earth and drag him under. It was too much, this was too much. Alfons pulled him aside and spoke softly, so the others couldn't hear.

"Seriously, Ed, is something wrong? You can tell me, you know. You look like you've just seen a ghost," his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Ed huffed a nervous laugh, eyes darting everywhere but his roommate, "Really? Huh...funny," he said, still scattered mentally. Edward was looking just over Alfons' shoulder, focusing on the wall. Alfons shook him by the shoulders.

"Edward, seriously! You've got to snap out of it," he ordered.

"Alfons, I-I don't...I can't..." He was practically whimpering. Ed didn't know what to say or how to say it. His mouth wasn't working, neither was his brain — he was still reeling. Alfons tried to coax more of a response out of him, but Ed clammed up. Alfons wasn't sure what to do. He didn't know a lot of things when it came to Edward.

Somehow, eventually, without Ed even realizing it, they made their way back into the living room. The tension was tangible and the silence was awkward. Alfons sat on one end of the couch while Ed sat as far away from him — and everyone else — as possible. If he was going to keep his sanity intact, he couldn't afford to be too close, mentally or physically. The closer he was the realer it became and he already thought he was about to tip over the edge. He tried to make himself small and invisible, which was pretty hard when everyone was watching your every move. He squirmed under their scrutinizing eyes. All he could think was 'Go away, please just go away,'

They tried to ask him questions like where he was from, how he had met Alfons, and all the rest. Ed gave answers best he could, answers he thought Alfons would find reasonable. He knew they thought something was wrong with him and he didn't want to give them any more reason to think that. He tried to seem normal and friendly, but his attempts were only mildly successful. He couldn't think clearly at all. His answers were quiet and shy and so much unlike himself; sometimes Alfons intervened on his behalf when Ed stuttered too much or started rambling. Why couldn't he pull himself together? How had he become such a mess in such a short period of time?

Eventually, the topic shifted away from him onto the other kids in the room. They asked Alfons how his research was going and he asked in turn what Winry was up to in school. Ed breathed a sigh of relief, but he was still shaking soundlessly and trying not to go off the deep end. He observed everyone as they had done to him.

The first thing that caught his eye was Winry. She was so young; she couldn't have been much older than thirteen. She was bright and alive and while she seemed wary of Edward she still flashed him friendly smiles when no one else was looking. Ed's chest felt heavy and his throat felt tight as he tried to return the gesture. She seemed so small and vulnerable; his overprotective instincts were starting to kick in. He wondered if this Winry was capable of knocking down full grown men with a wrench, or if she was even interested in such things. Ed wondered what the other Winry, his Winry, was doing right now.

He looked over at Sara and Urey who were discussing something animatedly with his roommate. They were sitting next to one another, Sara tucked lovingly under Urey's arm. Ed could see the love they had for each other shining deep in their eyes. They were just like how he remembered Winry's parents; always lively and loving, very intelligent. They were a perfect duo, they made for an amazing team. Ed wondered why they'd had to die. Edward wondered why the least deserving people always had their lives cut short while the sinners and the fuck-ups were allowed to keep breaking taboos and ruining lives they had no right to touch.

"It's ready!" Trisha called from the dining room.

Ed waited until everyone had gotten up and walked past him before he pushed himself off the couch with his still-aching joints. He couldn't get too near to them. That task became impossible as they crowded into the cramped, but still elegantly decorated dining room. Everyone took their place at the table. Mrs. Heiderich and Alfons sat on one side, while Sara and Urey sat opposite them. Winry and Ed sat at the long ends of the table, facing each other.

All the dishes were nicely arranged. There was a beautifully cooked duck on the table that served as the main éntree and as a centerpiece. There was a bottle of wine for those who were old enough. Gravy sat at Ed's end of the table. There was a bowl of salad and a basket of rolls with butter near the other end. Scattered around were side dishes of mashed potatoes and other cooked vegetables. It all looked delicious, but Edward wasn't hungry. He couldn't even think about food right now. In fact, he still felt a little sick to his stomach.

He watched as food piled up on his plate. He watched, but he wasn't paying attention. He couldn't focus on anything except the fact that he was here, in this room, with these people. He desperately wanted to vanish and forget he'd ever been here. This whole thing was some cruel, perverted joke. It was sick and Edward didn't want anything to do with it. Ed didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be around such familiar faces when they were all fakes. It was a mockery, and only Ed knew it. It was disrespectful to his friends and family back home for these things to take on their images when they were so obviously false. These people weren't real — they were macabre substitutes that only survived to haunt him. That was the only point. This whole world only existed to punish and make fun of him. Ed was being taunted and tortured, yet no one could see him falling apart or hear him screaming.

Ed's head felt full. There were so many thoughts, and they were all so loud, too. They were shouting at him. The urge to slap his hands over his ears, ball up, and shut his eyes tight so that maybe he would stop hearing all these voices was maddening. Some were telling him to flee, others to hide. Some ordered him to panic (as if he wasn't already) or lash out in a rage; hurt them, fight back. More still pleaded with him to pretend he wasn't here. There were a few scary ones — monsters in his head, ones that had only grown more powerful since his expulsion — trying to make him think he wasn't even real, that he didn't exist and had always been undeserving of life anyway. He'd been sent to hell for a reason, after all. He cowered away.

Some begged him to believe that he was actually back home, back in time, sitting with his actual mother, his actual brother, his real friends and family. It would be easier that way — if he could just drown himself in that delusion then he would be safe. Ed wouldn't have to worry about breaking down in front of everyone if he could just embrace the lie that these people cared about him, loved him, would do anything for him and that he would do so in return. But it was just a scandalous falsehood. They didn't give a rat's ass about some "disturbed" foreign kid. All the faces beloved to him were here, laughing and talking and joking — about him? Were they staring at him? What were they saying? Ed couldn't tell, couldn't focus, couldn't hear, couldn't know! — but he was aware he came last on their list of priorities.

He was losing it, plain and simple. Every minute that passed by was one more step he took away from reality. This couldn't be real. He had to be making this up. His mother was dead, Winry's parents were dead, his brother might even be dead too, for all he knew. Winry was supposed to be much older. Ed was the only one who hadn't changed, right? He was real, wasn't he? But now, he was sitting at a table full of skeletons. He looked at Winry and her family; he felt a shiver run up his spine at the surrealness of it. Sara and Urey had been dead for years, but Ed was eating dinner with them? It didn't make sense. He looked over at his mother. She had no idea the horrors that Ed had committed. He longed to reach out to her, pretend for even a moment that she was his, that Ed had never done such unspeakable things and defiled her. Maybe she would forgive him. She didn't know just how despicable Ed was, but maybe she could absolve him anyway. Edward didn't deserve any kindness from her, he knew, but that didn't stop the ache deep in his chest, in his heart, in his battered soul.

He was quiet, completely silent as lively conversation was thrown back and forth around the table. To an outsider, it appeared he was just casually observing, but Edward was far more detached from this scenario. Not much else was registering in his mind except a mantra of not real, not real, not real. His eyes were starting to water without his knowledge or consent. What was going on? Why was he so confused? Why did everything have to hurt so much? Ed just wanted to sleep now. He was tired, exhausted, weary from constantly battling all the demons surrounding him, inside and out. Frustrated, overburdened tears started to well in his eyes as he stared down at his mostly-forgotten food.

His mother gently laid a hand on his, the distress was clear on his face. Edward flinched hard but didn't pull away.

"Are you alright, dear?" She leaned over and asked concernedly in her warm, caring, motherly tone. Ed looked at her, felt his mouth moving up and down even though no sound came forth. He felt a tear slip out and run down his cheek. Trisha reached up to thumb it away.

"I-I...Excuse me," the distraught boy bolted out of his chair, almost knocking it over, and fled into the kitchen. Once he was out of sight, Mrs. Heiderich turned to her son.

"I know you said Edward was a little unusual, Alfons, but are you sure he's alright? Do you need to check on him?" She suggested.

"I'm sorry, mom, really. He's not usually this out of sorts — he won't tell me what's bothering him," Alfons explained.

"Just go check on him. See if he's okay; I'm worried about him," Trisha patted her son on the shoulder as he rose to go find Ed.

When Alfons walked into the kitchen he saw Edward standing, facing the wall, leaning over the sink with his shoulders hunched and his bangs hiding his face.

"Hey, Ed? You alright?" He spoke lowly, so as not to be overheard.

The older boy whipped around, startled, like he hadn't expected to be followed. Tears were streaming fast down his face, though his expression remained stoic and otherwise unreadable.

"Alfons...those people...I know those people," the German kid gave him a baffled look, "I know them...I know them from back home," he proclaimed softly. It sounded like he was pleading with him. Ed couldn't stop trembling.

"Edward," Alfons sighed sadly. His friend was confused again.

"No! Alfons, please!" he begged, "I'm not making this up! I'm not lying, I-I'm not crazy!"

"I never said you were,"

"But you don't believe me," he hissed with little conviction as he stared at his feet. No one said anything for a moment. Alfons was at a loss. He didn't want to lie.

"I'm sorry, Ed, really. I don't know what to say,"

"It's okay; I probably wouldn't believe me either," he conceded. He chuckled humorlessly.

There was a long, thoughtful silence.

"Well...do you want to come back to the table?" Ed's head shot up with a frightened expression, "Is that a no?" Alfons guessed.

Ed quickly shook his head once and rubbed his eyes, "No, no...I just — need to get my bearings. Just give me a minute, I'll be there soon," he reassured.

"Alright, then. Are you sure you don't need anything?" he asked one last time, worried and nervous about leaving his friend by himself.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ed said kind of breathlessly, "I just need a moment," Alfons nodded and walked out.

Finally, Ed was alone. He could just take a second to breath and collect himself again. He turned back around to face the wall and get a grip on the counter and himself. Now that he wasn't surrounded by all these surreal faces he could think more clearly.

Of course this was real, as much as Edward wished it wasn't. Just because he hadn't expected it didn't mean it wasn't possible. He almost shouldn't have been surprised that they were all here, especially with the way the universe favored his pain. He was sure somewhere, some asshole god was just sitting there laughing at his anguish. Ed couldn't help it — It was just so abrupt; it was too much to take in at once, too much to process. All the emotional abuse was getting to be a little excessive for Ed today.

He just had to hold himself together long enough to get through the night, then he could fall apart if he needed to. Just because a seam or two had ripped a little early didn't mean he couldn't do a patch job right now and fix it more expertly later. Yeah, he could do that. He could keep himself together for a little longer, have a nervous breakdown at home, and then right himself. He would be okay. He'd been through a lot worse. He nodded to himself, solidifying this plan in his mind, and took a deep breath before re-entering the dining room.

He sat back down in his designated chair and tried not to hyperventilate. It was working so far, despite the senseless fear gnawing at his core. He looked up and, surprisingly, no one was staring at him. Ed was grateful for that and heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe he could do this after all. Now that he'd had a chance to calm himself down, it felt a little more manageable.

He studied his mother sitting next to him, trying to keep himself under control. She was beautiful, just like Ed remembered. He tried his best to appreciate this moment — this second chance to see her, be near her — even if it scared the hell out of him too. It was so far beyond his grasp; he missed her so damn much. His heart ached even worse being so close to her. He didn't deserve a chance to see his mother again, not after what he'd done. He would screw something up, he was sure of it. But just the idea that in this universe his kind, beloved mother — who deserved every good thing this world had to offer — was still alive and well was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He wouldn't let them fall, though; not here, not now.

Edward refocused his attention back to the rest of the table just in time to genuinely laugh at a joke Sara had made. It surprised him, how heartfelt that emotion was. Perhaps this dinner wasn't as bad as he'd thought it to be in his overwhelming panic. He should at least try to take time to enjoy the presence of long-lost family friends — he may never be able to again. Most people would kill for a chance like this, but Ed was ungrateful as always.

It was miraculous, really, how easy conversation flowed around the table after that. Ed joined in occasionally; he even made a joke at one point that got a loud, sincere laugh out of Urey. Ed smiled. It was still odd; being immersed in dinner conversation with such impossible people, but Edward was still able to enjoy it, to some extent. He was able to talk easily enough now that he thought that he'd mostly made up for his unsociable attitude earlier in the night. Everyone else seemed slightly more comfortable around him since he'd reappeared from the kitchen. Maybe this was all okay. Maybe he'd overreacted before. He should indulge in this kind of opportunity, he supposed.

By the time everyone was finished with dinner, they had moved back into the living room where Alfons had kindled a fire underneath the mantel. Everyone around him was gossiping and laughing, and Ed felt almost at peace. Almost. He was still kind of caught in the unreal feeling of his situation.

Alfons went to sit on the couch next to Ed, sandwiching him between his roommate and Winry, who he'd actually made a solid start on conversation with. It was interrupted when he heard Trisha gasp.

"This is beautiful," she exclaimed, having unwrapped the gift Alfons had given her earlier. She was holding the locket under the light in order to more closely examine it, "The detail is amazing. Thank you so much, Alfons,"

"You can thank Ed, too," the younger boy claimed, "He helped me pick it out,"

Trisha gave him a genuine, heartwarming smile that expressed all her gratitude without needing to say a thing. Ed sent a sheepish smile back.

"You don't have to thank me for anything. It's nothing," he insisted. Why had Alfons told her that? He didn't deserve any credit.

"Well, still — thank you both," she expressed as she clutched the necklace to her chest, "It's lovely," both boys blushed faintly at the praise.

Alfons received a present from his mother as well, which he was very grateful for. She had gotten him a very pristine suit; she knew her son was often making presentations in front of very important people and she knew this would help impress potential sponsors.

All the companionable chatter in the room resumed shortly afterwards. Edward found it wasn't so bad. He found out that Winry was in fact interested in mechanics and machinery. She disclosed that she had hopes to develop better models of prosthetics for soldiers who had lost limbs in the war. Ed chose that perfect moment to tell her his arm and leg were fake. He was blasted with nostalgia when her eyes lit up and she practically squealed in excitement, urging him to let her take a look at them. Sara told her not to be so impolite but Ed just laughed and rolled up his sleeve. Winry had a field day.

They all spoke long into the night, so much so that it wasn't long until Alfons couldn't stop yawning. Ed nudged him a little.

"Hey," he said softly, "you ready to get going? I don't want you falling asleep at the wheel,"

Alfons yawned once more and stretched, "Sure, that's probably a good idea," he started to rise and Edward followed his lead.

"Going so soon?" Trisha asked when she noticed their movement.

"Afraid so, mom,"

"Let me walk you to the door," Mrs. Heiderich made to stand and everyone else followed as well.

They all walked into the foyer; Alfons grabbed both of their coats and handed Ed his. The older boy stood to the side while Alfons and his mother said their goodbyes. His friend promised to visit again soon. The Rockbell family approached Ed and shook his hand as they parted ways.

"It was very nice to meet you, Edward," Sara told him. Ed returned the sentiment.

"And if you ever need any kind of repair or anything, you just call me, okay? I'll be happy to fix it for you," Winry explained about his artificial limbs. He promised her he would.

Urey came up to him after the others moved back and placed a strong, steady hand on his shoulder. He spoke a little more softly, "Sorry you had such a rough night tonight, Ed. I hope the rest of it goes alright," he said.

Ed rubbed the back of his neck and gave a slightly embarrassed smile, "I'll be fine. I will. Thank you, though," he replied sincerely. They shook hands and Ed started out the door behind Alfons, having noticed he was already making his way back to the car and not wanting to be left behind.

"Wait a minute, Edward," Trisha called behind him.

Ed turned around and stood in the doorway. He watched as the Rockbell family moved back into the living room. Trisha was standing with her hands behind her back.

Mrs. Heiderich knew this poor boy had no family to speak of. She also knew he was having a hard time adjusting to his move here; now that he'd come to visit, it was obvious that was an understatement. Her son had told her many things about his roommate, and she had soft spot for children. Especially those who seemed lonely.

"Here," she held out her hands, clasped in which was a thin leather-bound book with a festive bow on top just for show, "Merry Christmas!" She smiled warmly at him.

Ed was taken aback. He was getting a second gift? "You...you don't — I mean, I-I didn't...you didn't have to get me a present," he finally uttered, confusedly, "I didn't even get you anything," equivalent exchange reared it's ugly head.

"That's quite alright, dear," her smile broadened, "Take it,"

Ed, still uncertain, tentatively reached out to take the book and held it delicately in his grasp. He looked at the title. It was a copy of Shakespeare's Hamlet. The blond-haired boy found that oddly fitting; a small, crooked smile graced his expression briefly.

"Alfons told me you liked to read," she explained.

Edward looked up at her. Her eyes were bright and sincere. She was always so caring and warm, and even when Ed was just a stranger to her, she was still so kindhearted and inviting. She was so loving and generous and good that Ed's whole soul ached when he thought about how she wasn't really his. His heart hurt almost unbearably when he realized that he would never be, and never had been, good enough to be her son. He didn't deserve to be loved by her. He was as unworthy as the trash on the ground; his mother shouldn't burden herself with all his mistakes, not like she had the last time, not again. It wasn't fair to her. How could someone whose core was so wholeheartedly benevolent be related to something as vile and rotten as Edward? His vision started to swim in spite of his resolve.

"Thank you...so much," he whispered, his head turned downwards. He didn't know what to say.

To his great shock, Ed felt arms wrap around his shoulders and found his face buried in the crook of his mother's neck. The embrace was gentle, but it was firm and for once in his rocky, unsure existence, he felt safe. Cautiously, he wrapped his own arms around her small frame, afraid she might disappear if held on too tight. He squeezed his eyes shut. When was the last time he'd ever been hugged? He didn't let people get close enough to touch him; usually when they did, it meant nothing but more pain. Suddenly, he felt all the facades, walls, and barricades he'd been building for years crumble and shatter in a matter of seconds. It was as if some sort of floodgate had been opened.

"I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry," he gasped into her neck, "Please forgive me, I'm so sorry,"

Trisha had a feeling this was more than just about tonight. She didn't know all the things he was apologizing for, but she didn't need too. She felt in her gut that it was important; a mother's instincts weren't often wrong.

"It's okay, sweetheart, it's alright," she whispered into his hair, "I forgive you, you don't have to worry," she cradled his head to her shoulder for a moment before pulling back slightly.

That was all Ed had ever wanted to hear. Those were the only words he'd needed to hear his entire life. They were words he never deserved to hear, but it was all he'd ever wanted. He felt just a sliver of all the weight he'd carried for years fall off his heavy, slumped, exhausted shoulders. He could breathe just a little easier, and even if it was only by a fraction, it felt like a world had been lifted from his guilty conscience. He took a deep breath, he almost felt free.

His eyes were wide and watery, but he wasn't crying. Trisha brushed his bangs out of the way, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear and lightly, she placed her lips to his forehead.

"And if you ever need someone to talk to, or anything at all, I'll always be here for you, okay?" Ed just nodded and hugged her a little more tightly before letting go completely, "You have a good rest of the night, Edward. Visit again soon, alright? You're always welcome here," she told him gently.

"Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me. Thank you," he said as a parting, on the verge of tears. He gave her one last grateful, watery smile before turning to go back to the car, book in hand.

Alfons had been watching the scene since it began, though he'd been mostly out of earshot. He feigned ignorance of the event to spare Ed any potential embarrassment. It had been a private moment, after all. His friend didn't say anything as he climbed in the back, he was quiet, but it was a content kind of silence. Alfons started the car and glanced back at Ed through the rearview mirror, glad his friend had found some peace for once. Ed was smiling to himself, oblivious to Alfons. He noticed something glint in the moonlight on Ed's right cheek, but he would pretend he never saw it.

And if you asked him why silent tears had been streaming down Ed's face the whole way back home, well, Alfons wouldn't have known what you were talking about.

A/N: tell me whatcha think!