Edit! 10/23/09

Ahem, hello! *waves* This is my attempt at an FMA fanfic. I apologize right here and now for any mistakes I made. I'm not perfect!! *shrug* Yeah..

Disclaimer: I imagine that if I owned FMA, most of the fandom wouldn't exist. ^^ I can't think up of that much awesomeness.

I warn you of nothing. Warn yourself as you go along, okay?

Dadada, I will also tell you that anything in italics could either be a dream, flashback, inner-thoughts of whoever the story is focused on at the moment, or just there for emphasis. Just roll with it. Kay? Kay.

"Brother! How long do we have to stay here? Can we even go back?" A curious glance.

Sad, reluctant answer. "I don't know, Al. Give me some time, okay?"

"I miss Winry, Brother! I miss Aunt Pinako, Resembool, everybody! I want to go back!" Whining.

"I'm sorry! I didn't ask you to come with me! You should have stayed there, in Central." Depression.

"I hate you, Edward Elric!" Anger. Slap.

"Al! Al, please! I'm sorry! I'll find a way to get us back, I promise!" Heart-tearing.

Edward Elric, 23 and back in Amestris, shot up out of bed, panting and holding his head with his human hand. His breathing was erratic and he just couldn't get his heart to calm. He paused and took deep even breaths to slow himself down. This wasn't good. A high heart rate was never good. Not after what he did…

Edward Elric, along with his brother Alphonse had successfully crossed over from Germany back to Amestris. Again. Twice. How many times had that been for Edward, having to see that wretched gate? Six, at least. Six times too many.

The efforts to slow his body down proved to be futile as a cough wracked itself through Edward's body. Pain ripped through Ed's stomach and lungs, making it evidently clear that Ed would no longer be able to stay in bed. He had to get up and move around. Stretch his muscles a little, or the pain would never ebb.

It was 10 o'clock in the morning when Edward finally descended the stairs, having cleaned his room up a little and taken a shower, warming his cold body up. Damn, he hated this. He felt like an old man. He chuckled a little as he thought of Mustang.

Two months ago, only ten months after Ed had gotten both Al and himself through that blasted Gate, Roy Mustang had been elected into his much desired position of Führer. Despite the happiness of that day, 'King Mustang' had been thoroughly depressed. He had found a silver hair. Well, he didn't find it. Hawkeye had.

"Sir," she had said, "You have a silver strand of hair on your shoulder." Mustang's eyes had widened quite considerably. Edward had found it funny and both he and Havoc had burst into laughter. Mustang had hit them both on the head after getting the 'icky', as he dubbed it, strand gray hair off his shoulder.

"Go back to work." He said solemnly and then proceeded to sulk the remainder of the day.

Ed remembered that day all too well. He'd been there, of course. One of Mustang's long awaited dreams had finally come true and Ed wouldn't have missed it for the entire world.

Or face losing his position in the military. The ceremony was mandatory, after all.

Yup, he was still a dog of the military, but a happy one. Mustang had changed the country for the better, so it was good to be serving under him. It gave him something to do at least. He...he was still young. He'd fulfilled all his promises so he felt that his life was complete. There wasn't much else he felt that obligated to do except perform his duties in the military.

Ed almost walked straight into Alphonse, who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "I can't forgive him! He's done me so much wrong and this is finally the last straw!"

"Yeah, but Al--"

"No, Winry! There's no 'buts!' The only reason I wanted to come back here was to see the colors of our world! It was so dull over there in that world! It was a world I didn't even want to be in! I just wanted to be with Brother, but now I don't even want him around me!"

"Al, you're overreacting!"

"No I'm not! I can barely see you in one eye and both my eyes are colorblind now!" Alphonse's shoulders were shaking, either with rage or because he was crying.

"Alphonse, you're being ridiculous! Ed's done so much for you! Surely you can forgive him one more time! Please, Al!" came the high pitched and frightened voice of Winry Rockbell, seemingly closer to Al than she was before. Ed could hear her voice better.

Even though they were yelling, their voices seemed quiet. Al's worked had finally sunk in, making Ed realize that his nightmare was happening all over again, right in front of him. He staggered backwards, clutching his head at the oncoming headache.

I deserve it. He's got so many reasons to hate me.

"Al, please!"

"No! I hate him! How could he do this to me?!" Ed ran out the door after that. Not even bothering with his shoes or coat which was a bad idea, seeing as it was only beginning to warm up.

He arrived at the cemetery of his mother and father. Hoenheim's remains weren't there, but Edward had felt the need to put something there to remember the man. He had reconciled with the old geezer and he wanted to, honestly. It was only proper to have a grave to make his existence known. Or at least recognized. Not that the bastard needed the ego boost anyway.

"I hate him!" Al's voice echoed in his head.

Edward landed on his knees, arms outstretched with his hands gripping the gravestone of his mother. His head was down as he stared blankly at the ground beneath him. His heart was racing again and his throat itched with a cough. He'd run too much. God, he was so out of shape…

Alphonse...dear Alphonse. His only brother hated him. It showed in his voice, unwavering and filled to the brim with something Ed couldn't imagine his brother having. Al wasn't a hateful person.

By all means, Edward saw why he did hate him. He'd put Al through so much over the course of his entire life and he didn't do a thing to deserve any of it. Edward Elric was not angry at his little brother for his feelings. Not at all. He was hurt. Sad that he wasn't forgiven. Al had already been forgiven right after he had said what he did. And that scared Ed. He was so used to holding grudges and demanding apologies when something happened.

But…for Alphonse…

For Alphonse, none of any of his personality traits mattered. Al was always forgiven, always set aside from everyone else. It was all because Edward loved his brother. Their bond could never be broken, just shaken and pulled against. That's what family did. Test and prod at each other until the other caves in and shatters, even just a little. But, in the end, you're always forgiven.

Their continuing closeness through most of all Edward's life strengthened that bond. Only rarely would it be tested, and because of Ed wasn't in familiar territory, it frightened him. He was scared of losing his little brother. From the looks of it, Al was very upset and all Ed could do was apologize.

He'd already done that though. Many times had he apologized, but this time wouldn't work. An apology wasn't enough, not if that was all he did. So, it came down to it. What should he do for little Al?

"Mom..." A choked sob escaped the blond's mouth, and he immediately coughed afterwards, splattering little specks of red over the gravestone and his fore arm. "I'm sorry. So, so sorry. I just don't know what to do anymore! What if Al-" No, he wouldn't think of Al. Not until Al forgave his brother on his own jurisdiction.

He stood up after a while of talking to Trisha's grave. He had explained everything that had happened. The years of traveling with Al in the armor. His own years in London and Munich with Alfons. Then the three years inside the gate traveling Europe with Alphonse. Two were spent traveling just because they could, despite the world war. The other was spent researching how to get back to Amestris, just like Al wanted.

Like all transactions with the gate, it required Equivalent Exchange. Getting them back through the gate once more had taken what was precious to Al, his sight. One of his eyes was nearly blind and both of them were wiped clean of any color. Everything was black and white for him. The Gate required a massive amount of sacrifice and since the world was at war, Ed had all the sacrifices he needed.

Ed nearly vomited at the thought. He'd used other people's lives to get them both back. Even if most were already dead, nearly half of them were just majorly injured. How could he have done that? Those people were put into more pain by what he had done. In Ed's mind, they were completely innocent. Now they were forever to be as empty souls inside the Gate. Forever in pain. Just to get both Al and Edward back where their original home was.

Ed finally noticed the blood over his arm and quickly wiped it away. He had things to do; not things to worry about.

Pinako stood a little ways away from Alphonse and Winry, both ashamedly sitting on he couch in the living room. Their heads were bowed, both looking for the entire world like preschoolers whom had just gotten scolded for coloring on the walls. Pinako removed her pipe from her mouth with a small wrinkly hand, looking harshly at the two. Even if she was nearing 3 foot 1, Pinako managed to maintain that commanding aura all older folk seemed to possess. Sure would give Mustang a run for his money.

"I can't believe you two would act in such a way. You two are friends and you don't need to bicker. Now Alphonse, say you're sorry to Winry." Winry looked up with a smug expression tickling her face.

Yes! Off the hook! Haha, Alphonse, take that!

Pinako noticed the smirk on her face get bigger. "You too, Winry. Apologize to Alphonse." Alphonse turned and smirked at her. No words were needed to say they had forgiven one another. They just knew. "Now, that's better. All friendly again." Alphonse nodded and smiled a little a Den, their dog, came up to him with his tail wagging.

Absentmindedly, Al stroked Den's head as he spaced out over Pinako's chatterings. He hadn't really meant to tell Winry he hated his brother. It just slipped out. That's how the argument started. Winry had made breakfast and asked Al to go get Ed. Al refused, saying under his breath that he shouldn't be accountable for someone he didn't like. Before he knew it, BAM! There was the yelling and the, well, arguing.

Auntie Pinako called his name once more. Alphonse looked over and the smile on his face was swept off. Pinako's disapproving eyes were on him as she reprimanded him again. "Alphonse, you also need to apologize to your brother for the things you said."

"Why should I?" Alphonse spat out. He really wasn't having a good day today…

"As a matter of fact, I was sitting on the porch doing the normal, when--" that's where Al tuned her out. It was such mindless nonsense that wouldn't even answer his question. Old people were like that. They tended to speak longer than requested of them. Winry's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp at what Pinako had said.

"--minding my own business, letting you two work it out, then Ed came flying out of the house. I'm not a fool to not see that he was standing near you two listening in on your little 'conversation'."

"Had Edward really been listening, Pinako?" Just then, Edward walked through the door, looking tired and exhausted. It worried Winry. It worried her a lot. He'd gotten thin, pale, and a whole lot nicer.

"Perfect timing, Edward." Pinako said, stepping toward the door. "Now Alphonse, what do you have to say for yourself?" Alphonse glared at Edward, his one and only brother. Edward just shook his head, his eyes portraying sadness Winry recognized as loss. She'd experienced it herself long ago and she was still grieving. She always would, but she'd live her life to the fullest. She wouldn't dwell in the past.

Edward's actions were starting to grate the taller Elric's nerves and Alphonse hastily stood up, almost knocking the table over in the process. Before he could say anything, however, Edward stepped toward his brother, opening his arms as if asking for permission. Alphonse didn't say anything, hurt and rage flashing through his eyes as he watched his elder brother envelop him in a rare show of physical contact. The simple hug and words that went along with it melted Alphonse's heart and he almost hugged back if not for Ed stumbling backward, a hand on his head and appearing to be in some massive headache pain.

Winry was off the couch and by his side in less than three seconds. Ed grabbed on to her shoulder to steady himself from the staggering. He felt like he would fall over. Winry laid a careful hand over the automail one on her shoulder. "Ed? Are you alright?"

After a moment, Ed looked up at her, the tired look back in his visage. Edward nodded. "I'm just a little dizzy, is all. Sorry to bother you. I think I'm going to go lay down now." Winry nodded in approval. Sleep sounded excellent in her opinion.

Ed was halfway up the stairs when he returned back to ask, "Winry? Would you like to go out for dinner tonight? All of us?" Winry smiled, a little tear forming in her eyes. "Oh Ed, of course we would. That'd be great. Now go rest. We'll all be here when you get up."

Alphonse continued to stand there, and Pinako tutted and left to organize some documents. Edward's words from his hug echoed in his ears: "I forgive you. I always will because I love you, Al. I'm sorry."

Nothing else eventful happened the rest of the day until dinner, which was excellent. Ed and Al were on a level ground again, but Alphonse still refused to speak to him. He wanted to hate his brother for what he'd done to him, but he couldn't find the will. Ed sounded so sincere.

But then Alphonse reminded him that Ed was a damn good actor when he wanted to be and all his feelings returned in an instant. Nevertheless, dinner all together with everyone was great.

Throughout the next week, Winry and Al noted that Ed continued to be nicer here and there. Helping a reluctant Al with his alchemy studies, doing dishes, sorting Winry's automail supplies and equipment, or even helping out Aunt Pinako with whatever she needed. It was weird, and both Al and Winry were getting suspicious. Was he trying to make up for something? He couldn't be trying to earn Al's forgiveness though, because he was being nicer to everyone. Something was up.

Still, Al continued to show indifference to his older brother, and that bothered Ed, Winry could tell. She just didn't have a clue as to what to do about it.

Days later, Winry found Edward in his room packing up. "Ed?" Winry said hesitantly. He wasn't allowed to leave! What if he ran off again? She just got him back! "I'm going to Central. There's something I need to take care of," he snapped his suitcase shut and shrugged on that tattered brown coat of his. Winry scrunched up her nose. That coat was just so....ugly.

"Goodbye, Winry, and," he paused, looking hesitant in his words. Like he didn't know if he wanted to say it or not. "Tell Al...No, never mind. Thank you." And he walked out, just like he had so many years ago.

Führer Mustang, happy and content with his new position, had just gotten out of a very long boring meeting with the Parliament. Sure, they 'ruled' the country, but they didn't have nearly as much power as Mustang did. That was perfectly okay with him. He could keep the country safe and protected that way. He had good judgment; the Parliament didn't.

The only bad thing about his job was the working part of it. Especially the paperwork. That was hell. Roy walked down the hallways of Head Quarters, diligently seeking out where his General was. He nodded to ever soldier who saluted and kept on walking.

Ah, the General's office, here we are. Mustang didn't wait for the secretary to open the door. She was slow in getting up anyway, so he just walked right on through the doors himself. "Brigadier General Hawkeye." He greeted upon seeing said person scribbling away at military applicant forms. Oh, the woes of the poor people who would not get in.

"Sir! Where you been, man?" Havoc said, throwing an arm around the other's neck. Mustang nearly smiled. He missed sharing an office with them. "Havoc. Off the Führer. Now." Hawkeye glared, and checked a paper. This one smaller and on a sheet of pink paper. Pink! He'd definitely have to get that straightened out.

Havoc shrugged and went back to his desk in the corner. Mustang decided he didn't have anything to do and sat down on the couch set in the room. At least 20 minutes passed of doing absolutely nothing. No talking, just pen scratching and paper flipping. "Those peace treaties for Ishbal and Xing were signed today." He said out of the blue. Everyone probably already knew though. He sighed in boredom. He remembered office life to be a little more…lively with everyone around.

Then again, Mustang thought, Not everyone is here.

Speaking of everyone, the remaining officers, plus one because Armstrong was definitely with them (He could hear the sparkles), walked through the doors. Mustang smirked as he saw Hawkeye's eye twitch in annoyance. Poor her. "--and that's how my beautiful sister Catherine won the contest! With her amazing singing! Ah, the wonders of the Armstrong family! No one can beat us, with our magnificence and awe inspiring beauty!" the largely muscled man stared into the distance, his sparkles flashing near his face as he reminisced.

"Oh! S-sir!" Kain Fuery stuttered as he came to a salute. Armstrong looked at Fuery and then to the silent Falman, both in the same position. Then he noticed the Führer. "Führer Mustang, my good friend!" He rushed over and grasped Mustang's hand in his to pull him up in a very strong bone crushing but totally love filled hug.

"Let..go.." Mustang wheezed. Armstrong did as he was told and gazed into his leader's face. "You're an inspiration to us all. Let me show you how proud I am with my burning muscles of power!" He declared loudly, taking his shirt off and posing while his muscles flexed and sparkles shone everywhere.

"Oh! Sir?" Fuery asked meekly.

"Yes?"

"Isn't there a state alchemist exam today? The one you're supposed to be at?"

"…"

Realization dawned on him as Hawkeye held up the pink paper from before. That was the paper with the notice on it! Crap. There was only two exams a year. One in late winter and the other in late summer. Now was late winter.

A dramatic wind blew through the open window behind Riza, tussling Mustang's short black hair and flipping his bangs about his forehead. She turned to shut it just as he figured it out. Yes, he did have somewhere to go. And if the clock on the wall was right, he was almost an hour late. "Shit!" He cried as he scrambled out the door and into the hallway. Riza, back in the office with everyone else, was smiling. "Still the same as ever." She murmured to herself.

Yes, that was Mustang. Strong, dependable, forgetful Mustang. He was a wonderful leader.

The state alchemist exams did not go well. Only two new alchemists were qualified to pass the first round and only one of them made it all the way through. The entire thirty others all had something very much in common.

They were all 12.

Stupid, stupid Fullmetal.

At least he didn't get in trouble for being late. Some of the officers overseeing the process were a little peeved, but they couldn't say anything. He loved being Führer.

In the lobby of his office (back to doing paperwork), someone grabbed him and pulled him aside. It was his secretary, a woman who wore the military issued mini-skirt. All the other women refused and threw the skirts in his face. He'd smelled denim all that week.. "Führer, Sir! You've got a trial to attend in five minutes--"

"Thank you, darling." The secretary rejoiced inside because Mustang remembered her name. The Führer walked back down the hallway, presenting an air of superiority and raw power with every step he took. Ms. Darling, as stated on her nameplate sitting on her desk, sat back down in her seat feeling like she left out something important to relay to the Führer, but then his voice floated through her head again and she forgot what she was doing.

All through his duty of just being there at the trial, he was bored and spent his time staring off into space and barely paying any attention to the Parliament and judge. The man under trial had supposedly committed a serious crime, and the judge was debating what to do with the guilty man. He vaguely heard the judge slam his little hammer mallet thingy and shout, "The order of the court finds you guilty! Your punishment for committing treason is the death penalty! Your execution shall be carried out as soon as possible."

Images of Ishbal flashed through Roy's mind, bringing the worst of memories to the forefront.

Blood splattered onto him as he shot a nearby Ishballan rebel. Corpses surrounded him and none of them were likely to get a proper burial. They'd be burnt by his flames, just like the houses surrounding the city. Comrades that had been injured by the rebels fell at his feet, but even more dead innocents had fallen than the amount of soldiers actually involved.

He was out of ammo so he snapped his fingers, triggering an alchemic reaction to the air around him. Controlled fire, his fire, brought down another.

________________

Roy stood in the empty house, the two gunshots still ringing in his ears. He was shaking and rooted to the spot. The bloodied bodies of the two doctors lay in front of him. The woman, fairly young to be out on the field, was clutching to a picture frame that showed the two doctors and a blonde girl in her early years. Oh God, he had just orphaned a little girl.

"NO!" shouted Roy, forcing himself not to remember anymore. There were so many memories. Despite his having to be there, he really only was there to be there. He had no purpose but to oversee what was to happen. The man in question looked over at Roy as if he was a god. "This man has hardly done a thing to deserve death. Insulting the Parliament and I myself is not a crime! All people are entitled to their own opinion! This man," gesturing to said guy.

The man rudely cut in, "Bradley. My name's Bradley Wellhoke." Roy nodded.

"Bradley Wellhoke only expressed his opinion by painting it on a few of the buildings around HQ. If you're sentencing him to death because of that, I must be also. My sins are far greater than his." The Parliament was speechless after that.

Mustang cleared his throat and addressed Bradley. "Your sentence is 30 days in community service. You will clean the paint off the buildings and report to General Armstrong when you're finished." He banged his fist on the table in front of him, pretending it was the judge's mallet hammer thing. Seriously, what were those things called?

A gavel, was it? Mustang nodded his head as he was super sure that the hammer-mallet was called a 'gavel.' Can't believe I forgot..

"Trial adjourned. People dismissed. I'm leaving." Ugh, was Mustang glad to be out of that. Ishbal was still a relatively sensitive subject, but for the most part, he was over it. Sometimes.

The best part about being Führer was deciding what he wanted to do and when. Mustang stepped outside, nodding to the guards outside the doors and was suddenly very content with life as it was then. Sure, he had meetings to attend, trials to be at, committees to oversee, troops to lead, documents to sign, but he could go home whenever he wanted. And now was a whenever moment. He would go home, pour himself a glass of scotch and mosey around for the next couple of hours before going to bed. That was good.

The cooling breeze blew against his face, ruffling his hair. The sun wasn't bright, covered in clouds, but it was a beautiful day nevertheless. The trees in Central were covered lightly in snow. Roy smiled contentedly to himself before a loud yell interrupted his thoughts. "ROY MUSTANG! Someone's here to see you, Oh Great and Mighty King!"

Said person's eye twitched and he felt the urge to incinerate Havoc where he stood, leisurely sprawling himself all over the windowsill he was halfway out of. "Who is it?" Roy called back, directly under the window now. No sense in waking half the neighborhood up from naps. "It's Ed, Mr. Colonel Sir." A pause. "Er, Führer Sir. I'm not used to callin' ya that, yanno? It's so weird. 'Führer Mustang.' Doesn't it sound we--Hey! Where'd you go?"

Ed had been waiting in Führer Mustang's office all day. All day! And Ed wasn't, just wasn't, the kind of person who could be patient. He tried reading the paper--too boring. He tried reading a book--couldn't focus. Playing chess with himself didn't work either. That forced him to remember that Al wasn't with him, like normal. So, he settled with reorganizing Mustang's desk and files and cleaning around his desk and chairs. The secretary had told him that she'd tell Mustang when he got out of that meeting this morning that Ed was there. But alas! The secretary had left around noon because of a 'sudden head cold'. It was currently five in the afternoon. Ed's stomach growled and he cursed himself for not eating at all that day. He was so hungry!

After an hour, Ed considered just leaving and coming back tomorrow, but then he remembered he was going to return to Resembool like he promised Winry. If he stayed here then he might not want to go back. Everyone here was like family. So, he ended up sitting there on the couch patiently waiting for Mustang to waltz in. It was the least he could do for him.

Falman came in then and went over to lay a stack of papers on Mustang's desk. When he left, Ed felt really lonely. He wanted to follow the silent man to where Havoc and Fuery were. Hell, he wouldn't even mind being around Hawkeye for a while. Even if she sometimes got annoyed with him and threw him out. It'd still be better than waiting here!

He picked at his coat sleeve and for some reason, he found himself remembering Heiderich.

"Hey, you okay?" Ed had asked to Alfons as the other steadied himself with the help of their apartment wall. Alfons coughed into his hand and grew pale. "Never mind. Let's go lay you down, alright?" Alfons nodded and Ed steadily helped him to his room.

The next day, Alfons was back on his feet like nothing ever happened and both of them were fine with that. Or Ed would have been if he knew that the cold winter of Munich wouldn't worsen Alfons' sickness. Alfons wouldn't tell him what he had, but Ed knew he did have something.

Ed grabbed Heiderich's shoulder before the other could walk out the door. Heiderich turned to him and asked with his scratchy voice, "What is it, Ed?" Ed nearly lost it then. The look he was giving him was almost exactly the same one Al had given Edward all the time. Ed smiled sadly and handed Alfons his own coat. He wasn't going out to the rockets today; it was too cold and his prosthetics would give him hell if he were to endure any more of the cold weather.

Alfons set down his bag and shrugged off that short, thin thing he called a jacket and put on Edward's. It was warmer, alright. It smelled like Ed too. Alfons grinned down at his house-mate and handed his own jacket to the blond. "Now, listen here," Ed said firmly, nearly tripping over his words as a blush came to his ears. He looked away, suddenly finding the table in the corner very interesting. "I'm not trying to be nice, alright. So go out and buy you something else to make up for this pathetic excuse for a coat."

Alfons chuckled and ruffled Ed's hair. In turn, he got a glare. "Alright, I believe you. I'll go get a new coat, your majesty." He said sarcastically and Ed stomped off. Stupid Alfons and his stupid sincerity.

When Al got back home, he did his best to avoid Edward because he had done something horrible. Something Ed found out over dinner. "You ripped my coat?!" Alfons only nodded meekly and handed him mentioned item.

"It's just a small rip; you won't even be able to see it. Kinda like you." He said with a smile, gaining more confidence at the way Ed was overreacting. It showed he wasn't really mad, but just wanting to forgive Alfons and not having the words to say so.

Ed's eyes widened and he shouted, "Oh! So now you're calling me so short I'd drown in a puddle! Well, I'll show you!" Ed ended up throwing a piece of bread at Alfons' face.

"Yeah, you really did show me." He said smiling and wiped off the bread crumbs left on his cheek, then added on as an afterthought, "And that's not what I said. You must be running out of exaggerations because that one was really lame."

"Oh! And now you're making fun of my prosthetics?!" He yelled, pouting. "You jerk!" Alfons just grinned at him and shook his head.

Edward smiled down at the tear in his jacket sleeve. He felt remorseful that Alfons had died because of him. Winry had offered to fix the rip for him, but Edward didn't want that. He had promised Alfons that he'd remember him. This tear helped him do just that. They hadn't been too close, but close enough to get along well. And close enough to gain a small place in Edward's heart.

Oh, who was he kidding? No one but Al knew of Alfons. Even Al didn't know of how close they had actually been. Ed had been lucky to find it out when Alfons was sending him away up into the air with that rocket of his. They'd been best friends.

If Ed couldn't be truthful to himself, then what was the point? It's not like he'd go around blabbing his thoughts to the world.

I miss him…

"Whatcha cryin' over, Edo?" Mustang's voice said from the doorway.

"Mustang!" Ed cried and stood up furiously, regaining his anger from years past and wiping away a traitor tear that had rolled down his cheek while he was at it. Mustang found it funny that Ed decided not to salute, but instead to yell at him from making him wait. But what had made him so sad? Mustang had never seen the young one cry so freely without having a direct reason to. Like with what happened to Nina…

"I've been in here since ten this morning! Where were you, you bastard?!" Roy smirked. He was glad to have Fullmetal back, but this temper of his was annoying. Especially the bipolar-ness. Only a minute ago, he was staring at his coat sleeve crying over the damned thing, the next he's yelling at something Mustang didn't do. (show up in his office)

"Fullmetal, calm yourself down." He said, in a commanding tone. Ed felt a familiar tickle in the back of his throat, and a burning in his lungs.

Not now, dammit, not now! Not in front of Roy!

Ed lurched forward in pain, unable to keep himself from standing still and ignoring it, like he would. He coughed violently into his gloved hand, looking down and seeing the same crimson as all before, only this time, there seemed to be much more. Edward was getting worse.

"Ed?" Mustang said gently, placing a careful hand on Ed's shoulder. Ed hastily shoved his hand into his jacket pocket, but not before Roy caught a glimpse of something red. Could Ed be..sick? Or was it just stress?

After shoving Mustang off, Ed solemnly plopped down back in the chair he had been in for practically the whole day. A shiver ran through him and he buried deeper into his coat. "I have something I need to tell you." Ed started before Mustang went over and sat across from him.

"Something about your health, I presume." Ed's mind raced and suddenly he found himself in a state of panic. Mustang couldn't know! No one knew but Edward himself. What would Mustang, the bastard, do? He wouldn't order him to spill, would he? He had the power. It wouldn't surprise Ed if he did just that.

"No. I'm resigning from the military. My last mission report from the check up in Lior is on your desk there. I gave Riza my resignation forms and she said she'd try to get them filed. That's all I have to say, Colonel Bastard. See you later." Ed stood up, more than ready to leave.

Mustang smirked. Ed calling him that wasn't a form of malice, it was a term of endearment. He was the Führer, after all. Not a Colonel. Then he remembered the blood on Edward's hand and called for him to stop; Edward paused at the door. "Yeah?"

"Sit back down. I'm still talking to you." Ed reluctantly returned to the chair and sat back down, glaring through his bangs at the stupid Führer. Ed wondered again whether or not Mustang would order him to spill the beans, but he didn't say a word, just sat there at his desk going over papers. Oh, like this was going to happen again! Edward was not going to sit around in Mustang's office the rest of the entire day. He had a train to catch back to Resembool.

He stated the face just so and Mustang 'hmmed' in response and went on looking through Ed's mission report. Ed had enough of being polite and stood up, starting to leave again. He ignored Mustang's calls to sit back down and wait for a while, and continued through his large office. He got halfway through the lobby before his head grew light and dizzy and his chest grew heavy.

The corners of his vision began to fade to white and he leaned against the secretary's desk until the episode passed. This happened sometimes, and there was nothing Ed could do about it. He didn't dare go to a doctor. All the doctors in Central were somehow related to the military and he couldn't be involved with them anymore. He was a burden to them, he understood that.

Then he realized that he wouldn't be able to keep his sickness a secret any longer. Mustang knew. Mustang had seen; he knew.

He knows, he knows, he knows. He knows.

He didn't turn around to look back, but he knew that Mustang had stood up and walked over. Mustang was right behind him, towering over his form in a comforting manner. He knew Edward was sick, but didn't know what he was sick with.

He tried to blow it off, "It's just a c-cold, Mustang," but, his traitorous body failed to comply with his wishes and he coughed harshly into his hand, seeing the red substance when he pulled away. It left such a nasty taste in his mouth.

Mustang's hand came to rest on his shoulder and Ed looked down at the floor. He felt guilty. Guilty for something he didn't even cause. He spoke in a scratchy whisper. He's already accepted the fact. "Roy," Mustang's hand gripped his shoulder more tightly. But nothing would bring him comfort after this.

He was serious, Mustang could tell. Normally, he'd joke when Ed was trying to be serious. The pensive expression of imminent doom just didn't look well on the younger's face back then. Mustang had to remind himself that Edward had grown up.

The news Ed told him, though, made him stop any and all joking thought processes. "Roy, I'm dying."

Winry sighed as Alphonse tore up Edward's room looking for something. Winry stood in the doorway and only narrowly avoided a book flying toward her face. She caught it in her hand before it could smack her in the face. She placed it on a nearby table and said, "Alphonse, what the heck are you doing?"

Alphonse only growled in response. "Well, fine. Be that way."

She turned to leave and Alphonse said in a low voice, "I'm looking for a letter Edward was writing. He was in such a rush to leave, he must have forgotten it. He carries it around all the time. Especially since we got back and I want to know what it says. AH! Here it is, the bugger!" He held the letter up to show Winry and then turned around a little to read it himself.

Winry gazed at the four or five pages filled up with Edward's scrawly handwriting and was suddenly appalled at what Alphonse was doing. If Al didn't know what it said, and Ed was so protective over it, wasn't this a direct violation of privacy? Edward's privacy, no less?

Al was carefully skimming the beginnings of a letter addressed to 'the Colonel', which Al thought weird. Ed hated Mustang, Winry, still appalled by Al's blatant privacy breach, snatched the letter out of his hands and shoved it into the back pocket of her shorts. "What was that for?!" Al yelled. Winry frowned. This wasn't like Al to be so violent.

"Just because you're mad and fighting with him doesn't mean you can invade his privacy like this. Edward wouldn't do that to you, would he?" And then Winry stomped out the room, slamming the door behind her. Al was shocked, more so that with what Winry presented, Al realized she was right. Ed really wouldn't do something like that. Not if Al didn't want him too. No, he'd never do something Al didn't like.

Maybe that was why Ed left. He did say that he didn't want Ed to be near him. But that didn't matter. Al didn't care. His brother can be on himself. It's not like he was going to die any time soon. "Feh." He huffed as he fell onto Edward's cold bed.

Maybe he would have done something like Al had just done. If he was younger than he was now, Al was sure Edward would do that. But now that he'd grown up, he was someone Al didn't even recognize.

Even spending four years alone in Europe with this new Ed didn't help him understand what Ed had changed into. Boy did that bug him. All he wanted was to chase after him. That was all he ever wanted. Not anymore though. Alphonse wanted to be his own person.

"You're right, Winry." He said to the air. Suddenly, he saw where Ed was standing. It was somewhere far ahead than where Al was. Ed was on a different path for his life. One that Al wouldn't be on, he was sure of that. Al would make his own legend. "I got carried away. He just gets on my nerves so easily!" Rolling onto his side, Al decided he'd take a short nap and then see how Ed was doing. He'd call Mustang first. Ed would definitely be there.

Winry smiled to herself on the other side of the door. She felt like things were suddenly getting better. All the brothers' problems were finally giving way to new light. They could continue living their lives in peace.

Mustang's heart could have stopped along with his frozen world. Everything seemed so still. There it was though, beating loudly in his ears. Surely he just didn't hear Ed right. He could have said anything! Anything like, "I'm tiring," or "I'm driving."

Mustang's hand gripped harder onto Ed's shoulder. Ed winced and shook him off. He turned around to face his Führer, looking exhausted. A little spark of hope flew through Mustang's stomach. He looked so worn out so maybe he did only say he was tiring. Although, Fullmetal didn't talk like that..

Ed looked straight into Mustang's panicked eyes. "I'm dying, Roy." He repeated himself because Mustang appeared to be having a hard time grasping that fact.

"W-what?"

Ed scoffed. He'd just repeated it! Different approach then. "You know, death. The end of life. To cease function. No longer with then living breathing people…? Are you following?"

"I know what it is! And I know what you said! I just.." He said angrily and plopped down into Mrs. Darling's chair, frustrated. He lowered his face into his hands. "I…How, Edward?" He was shaking and nearly on the verge of tears. Edward, the boy he held so close to his heart, the kid he considered a son, was dying? It sounded so unreal. He was so young. Twenty-three years old wasn't necessarily old enough for someone who did so much good, someone who was so helpful, so determined, to die. He didn't deserve it. All Mustang could think of was how or what had made Edward in this state.

"I'm sick." Ah, so that's what it was. Sickness could be overcome. With doctors, Ed could be healed. He'd be okay!

Roy was in hysterics, Ed realized. There wasn't any need to go into detail of his sickness, even if Mustang asked him to. Worrying the man further could prevent in some unwanted repairs around HQ. Ed had nothing else to say and picked up his back that he had dropped and began to walk away.

Once again, he was stopped by the Führer with a firm grip on his wrist. "We'll get you a doctor--"

"It won't work. I--"

"We'll get you medicine. Top quality--"

"Roy! You have a duty to your people, not just me. Would you do this for all the other sick people? Would you?!" Ed hated special treatment. He was just as special as the sick widow living all alone in a run-down house, or the orphans who are trying hard to earn money for the repairs to the home they lived in.

"I don't care. I'll do whatever. Doctors, medicine, surgery, whatever it takes, Ed, to get you better."

"Führer, stop that. You can't--"

"Just let me try! Please!" Roy pulled the blond in front of him into a rather awkward hug, seeing as he was still sitting in that chair. Edward rested his head on Roy's shoulder, trying his best to subtly let Roy know he was grateful for his help. Maybe it would be possible for him to recover…

Ed lost his balance when Roy squeezed him tighter. He fell into the Führer's lap, and he was surprised when Mustang didn't push him off. Ed heard a sniffle and laughed.

"I'm not worth your tears, Mustang. Quit crying. You're a strong man with a pair of strong legs. Get up and do something. Move forward." Ed pried himself out of his grip and quickly left the office. He was done here. He'd go back to Resembool now. Nothing was going to stop him from spending his last months where he grew up.

The most frustrating thing Ed could think of happened as he was halfway out of HQ. His vision went blurry and that dastardly headache returned. He staggered a bit and ended up blacking out.

This is too cruel, Ed thought before succumbing to the unsafe realms of unconsciousness.

She reached out and touched his face, caressing his cheek with her gentle demeanor. Everything seemed to fade away and all that was left was her and her touch, her love. His deteriorating body no longer held importance. All that mattered was her and his two sons.

"Please don't go." She pleaded, looking straight in his smoldering golden eyes. What he wouldn't give to stay..

But he couldn't. For his sons' sakes. He wouldn't let them see him like this. "I'm sorry. I have to." He said, plopping his hat on his head. He could see her world breaking in her eyes. She'd stay strong though. "Wait for me." He said with an unbreakable resolve. He pulled her into a hug. "I'll come back. I promise. I don't know when, but I will come back to you, Trisha. I love you." One last kiss and he was gone, walking out the door at dawn and leaving his wife at home.

"Mom?" A small, timid figure stood at the stairwell. She turned around and gazed sadly at the almost exact replica of the man she loves. She almost told him to go back to bed. "Yes, Edward?"

"Where did Dad go?" The question was never answered. She posed her own. "What are you doing up, silly? Go back to bed before you catch a cold." The little one nodded and scampered off to join his little brother for the few precious hours of sleep they could still get.

Over the next four years, whenever Edward was inside, he kept a close eye on his mother. She kept looking out the window, waiting for Dad. Ed's hatred grew and he despised seeing her so lonely.

He and Al did alchemy to try to cheer her up, it seemed to work. Even that, though, had an undertone of sadness.

Ed and Al came home one day after playing outside and was harshly greeted by the sight of their mother, unconscious on the floor with a basket of forgotten, overturned fruit in the corner. Ed did the smart thing and ran to Aunt Pinako and Winry for help. She had died later on. Al the while, she was thinking of Hoenheim, the love of her life, and how she wished to see him one last time.

Ed woke up on an unfamiliar couch with tears in his eyes and a very painful bruise on his arm. He poked at it again to make sure it was there. A dumb move, but not everyone is fully functional when just waking up. It's only human.

He wiped away the tears and his mind went back to the dream he had. "Where had that come from…" He mused. Edward looked around to figure out his whereabouts but that proved to be zero help as this could easily be anyone's living room. He was just about to get up when Mustang came walking in. Ed groaned. Not him again..

Mustang smiled a little at seeing Edward awake. He had left the office and found him out cold lying on the ground in the middle of the hallway! Scared him half to death…

Er, that wasn't funny.

Ed was sure Mustang wouldn't want him to see that smile, so he didn't say anything. Which reminded him…"You can't tell anyone. Especially Al." He demanded, voice hoarse from coughing in his sleep. Mustang set a glass of water on the table in front of the blond and sat down next to him.

What is going to happen next, Ed wondered. He stole a sideways glance at Mustang as he was reaching toward the water. He saw surprise painted over him. "Does Al not know? Wasn't that why you were upset in my office?"

Ed's eyes widened. He saw that too? "No, Al doesn't know. He's…he's angry at me, Roy. He said he didn't want me near him, so I came here. I already had stuff to do here anyway. If I hadn't come when I did, I would probably miss my chance at being here one last time." Mustang slapped Ed then. Clear across his face.

"OW! What the hell was that for, you bastard!? Ow! Slapping hurts, you know!"

Mustang stood up, looming angrily at Fullmetal. "One, you should have patched things up with Alphonse. Two, you're letting guilt eat away at you. Three, this will not be the last time you're here! You will live. Do you understand me? You're going to recover. Sickness is just sickness. You're going to recover and that's an order!"

Ed looked down sadly at the hands in his lap. They were cold. Both of them. "Roy, it doesn't work like that."

"I don't care! At least let me try!" Ed sighed and nodded his head. This was going to be nuisance. A time-consuming nuisance. At least he wouldn't have to go back to Resembool for a while, even if he promised Winry he would. In truth, Edward really didn't want to go back and face his brother. It was just too hard.

A week later and Ed was finally fed up with Mustang and all the doctors he kept dragging the poor blond to go see. Each one of the medics ended up giving good reports and Mustang nearly blew each one of them up.

"I don't get it!" Mustang yelled when they were back in his house. Ed sighed and went to l down on the couch. He hated feeling weak and this was unbearable. Urgh, he didn't know dying took so much out of you.

"Don't get what?" He murmured from his spot. Mustang came in and plopped himself down on the chair across from him.

"What's happening! Each of those stupid doctors said you were perfectly healthy! It's so obvious that you're not! Why can't they see that?!" Ed knew that there was one more doctor in Central that Mustang was going to make him try out.

Ed hoisted himself up from his very comfortable position. "C'mon, Colonel. There's one more doctor."

"There is? And you're actually going without me having to drag you there? Well, this is a first.." Ed just smiled and pointed toward the door.

They entered the small building and suddenly Mustang remembered why he had forgotten about this little hospital. It looked like someone's home rather than a hospital. In fact, he was sure it was someone's home, judging by the pictures of a small family on a table by the door they came in. How did Edward know about this place though? Mustang was sure he had only been here once or twice; and even that was a really long time ago.

Ed made himself comfortable on a couch not too far from where Mustang was sure there was a door to a kitchen. Were they seriously allowed to invade someone's home like this? Maybe Ed had gotten the two places mixed up.

Mustang almost got used to the idea of randomly infiltrating someone's home and was about to join Edward and his fancily dressed self on the couch. Almost and about.

"Oh my!" came a feminine voice and The Flame Alchemist nearly jumped right out of his skin. Where had she come from?! Ed remained relaxed with his eyes closed as his head rested on the back of the couch. The woman rushed over, an awful expression on her face.

"Um, madam?" She didn't answer but instead opted to take that stethoscope off her neck and put it to use.

Ba-dump ba-dump ba-- ba-dump ba-dump ba--

"Dearest me. You're dying, aren't' you?" Roy's face dropped. It was true then? Ed wasn't lying.

"Is there any way to fix it?" Roy said hesitantly. She promptly ignored him.

"C'mon, honey. Up you go. Shirt off." Ed coughed before getting up. Roy saw the blood that trickled down Ed's chin. Apparently, so did the doctor, whoever her name was. She shook her head. "Nevermind. Tell me. What happened?"

"I did something bad, granny." She whapped him on the head for that.

"I'm not old enough to be called that." Ed just shrugged. "Now give me a better answer."

"I…I sacrificed lives, human lives, to get back here. To get me and my little brother here, back in Amestris. We crossed the Gate…" Ed's voice choked up. The lady nodded and flicked her long graying black hair over her bony shoulder. There was no need to say anymore. Roy understood. Ed hated when people died. Especially innocent people. But for something so selfish as to just transport them back here? That was very stupid.

Roy sat himself down in the seat next to Edward and then promptly elbowed him in the side. "OW! What was that for? What's with all the Ed-beatings lately?! Dumb old man.."

"You should have stayed where you were." Edward's expression fell then. He looked down sadly at his shoes. Mustang felt the strong urge to hug him. He would have if he was younger. A lot younger. Maybe ten or eleven. Then he wouldn't feel weird. Really though? Hugging a twenty-three year old? Wasn't his birthday next week though? Ah, it was. He should make a note to get something ready for Elicia's birthday too..

"I know. I promised Al though. He was so miserable.."

"That's no reason to sacrifice yourself!" The old lady said, coming back from her kitchen and handing Ed a tall glass of hot tea. Mustang wondered why he didn't get any. If she was being hospitable, it was only right to serve the Führer some! "Drink that, dear. It'll help with that nasty cough of yours. No charge. And I'm sorry for your loss, sir." She said, addressing Mustang.

What loss though? He looked at Edward, seeking an answer. Ah, that was right. He said he was dying. The truth of that finally hit him and he was surprised when he took it that well. He wasn't shaking. He wasn't crying.

His heart just hurt.

No matter what happened back in his office. That time he didn't think Ed was telling the truth. Besides, medicine would have been able to fix it. But that lady said he would die, hadn't she? She certainly acted like he wasn't going to make it. Now he wanted to know why Ed was dying. He wasn't following very well, that's for sure.

Ed downed the drink, thanked the lady with a hug, and dragged Roy out of the tiny home. "Who was she?" Roy asked.

"She's an alchemist and a doctor. I don't know her name. I don't even know if she's real." Roy was startled and turned back to look at the house they were recently in, but it wasn't there. Strange.

The whole way back to Roy's giant house, the guilty pleasures of being ruler over a country, they were silent. Ed was thinking about what he was going to do about Al and the rest of what he called a family. Roy was thinking about what Ed could possibly be thinking about. He was a curious person. God, he was so worried. Ed was only twenty-four! How could he die over something so trivial?

Oh wait; he didn't even know what Ed was dying from! It couldn't possibly be just that cough. Sure, losing blood was bad, but you regain that after a while. "Edward? What are you dying of?" Might as well get his answers now, no matter how awkward they seemed to be.

Ed stood aside and let Roy unlock the door to his house. "Equivalent Exchange, Mustang. The Gate wanted human life. I gave that to it but it wanted something from us. The Gate took Al's eyesight in one eye and his ability to see any form of color other than black and white."

"What about you?" Roy said, pushing the door open and letting Ed walk through.

"Me? I gave up the remainder of my lifespan."

Winry nearly flipped out when she got done reading Ed's letter. First of all, she couldn't help herself from looking at it. It was too tempting! All it was doing was sitting on her dresser. But she'd swear to anyone that asked her that it was begging to be read. It was! "Read me, read me! Open me up, Winry! You know you want to read me. Ed won't get mad. It's just a letter! Read me!

"

So she did. She read it and cried half way through. At the end though, she really was flipping out. The letter contained information as to the location of a will. A will! As in, when Ed dies, all the listed stuff goes to whomever Ed signed it off to! And Ed said he was sick! What the heck!

Ed was not sick. It wasn't possible.

But then at the end, he told Mustang goodbye forever. This meant he was dying! Dying? Seriously?

Ed was definitely getting a wrench to the head for this prank letter. If he actually meant for Al to read this and feel bad for him then he had another thing coming!

She finished snapping her suitcase shut and flew out of her room. Al stopped her on her quick descent down the stairs. He let her go when she saw the suitcase and ran to get his own. Winry wasn't allowed to leave without him! No one was! Except for that stupid relative of his. He could go anywhere he wanted.

Al didn't care.

The train ride to wherever they were going, Al didn't know yet, was really confusing. There weren't that many people, but Winry kept getting up to go to the Conductor to see if they could go faster. They never did, but Winry kept asking. Eventually, Al just drifted off to sleep. Winry could deal with whatever she wanted.

"Hey, hey, Al. We're here, get up. Hey! Where do you think Ed would be? Al!"

"Ah! Who-what-where-huh?" Winry giggled and Al felt a blush come to his cheeks. Stupid. Don't sleep on a train when Winry's with you. It's embarrassing. "Edward? He'd probably be at Elicia's birthday party. It's today, isn't it?"

"Oh yeah! That's right! Okay, we'll go there first! If he's not there, then we'll try the Führer's place. C'mon, Al." She said triumphantly, swinging her suitcase around and nearly hitting Al in the face.

"Oh, Winry! Elicia will be so glad you stopped by! It's her birthday today, remember?" Winry nodded and Gracia offered them inside. Al grabbed Winry's elbow.

"What is it, Al?"

"You can stay here. I'm going to go find Ed. Something's telling me that I should. I'll call you later. Bye! Tell Elicia 'happy birthday' for me!"

Al stood in front of Mustang's very large house. He couldn't bring himself to knock and he was very nervous. One, he wasn't exactly on good terms with his brother. Two, he never did call like he reminded himself to for weeks. Three, it happened to be Ed's birthday so what if he wasn't even here? What if he wasn't even with Mustang to begin with?

He knocked, swallowing his nervous jitters, and stepped back to wait for someone to answer the door. Mustang did eventually open up the door, fear written all over his face and he was making no effort to hide it either. He didn't say a word; he just looked relieved to see Al, for a reason said person did not understand.

Mustang pulled Alphonse in rather roughly and led him to a bedroom in the back of the house. Alphonse was not greeted by a birthday party, which could be the reason for Mustang's fear. He didn't like clowns, Al had found out years ago. It'd be just like Ed to want to see Mustang cower in fear and request a stupid clown. This was Ed, you know.

No, Al wasn't greeted by a birthday party; he was greeted with the sight of his older brother lying in a bed, looking like a rag doll. "What. What's wrong with him?" Al asked slowly, barely above a whisper.

"He's dying. He was fine two days ago. Today he just, collapsed on me! He's been like that all day and I don't know what to do. He won't wake up." Al forgot all his anger from before and rushed to his brother's side, occupying the chair pulled next to the bed quite well. He grasped his brother's hand.

"I'm sorry, Brother. I didn't mean it! Please, just wake up!" He didn't apologize out of worry, he truly meant it. He was sure he did. He hoped…

The hand Al was grasping suddenly pulled away and Alphonse's head shot up and stared straight into the weary eyes of his older brother.

"I already told you I forgave you, Al. Don't sweat it." Al buried his face into his brother's chest, happy to be forgiven. All that mattered now was whether or not Brother would be able to get up and move on with him. Al promised he'd never fight with his brother again if he would just keep living.

"Al, I want to do something for you. I read about it a couple months ago and I think it will work. Please, close your eyes." Al did as he was told and lifted his head up when Ed put his hand on his cheek. It was removed for a second and he heard Edward clapping his hands together.

The familiar jolt of alchemy flowed through him, the blue light that was emitted warmed his body and he fell forward. "Al," Ed said, voice growing weaker and then he coughed. "I'm sorry for everything. I love you, Little Brother. Say goodbye to Winry for me. Tell her how you feel. It won't turn out badly. Trust me." He coughed again, and the hand on Al's eyes disappeared, falling back to the bed, limp.

Mustang rushed over. Al remained slumped over the bed. He wasn't going to open his eyes, if he did, he'd cry. He already knew what had happened. "His heartbeat is gone, Al. I'm so sorry." Mustang said, sniffling just a bit.

Al finally lifted his head up and opened his eyes. Everything was clear. Everything was so vibrant. It was exactly what he always wanted back in Munich. Color. Ed had done this for him. He'd fulfilled his last promise at the cost of his own life. Edward had given Al his eyesight back.

Al felt terrible about the whole thing. He wanted to tear his eyes out and beg the Gate to give his brother back, but that wasn't what Ed would have wanted. No, it wasn't.

Ed was gone. He was going to be gone forever. But, Al would live on. Al would live, just like his brother wanted him to.

Al got up from his spot, thanked Mustang for all he did, and left the house.

Thank you for reading this far! Now, please please review and tell me what you thought! Don't be afraid to point out anything you didn't like or any grammar errors you thought were too distracting.

I'm sorry if I made you cry! :( It's a death-fic. I said to warn yourself as you go along!

But yeah, I'm really proud of this! I've gotten response from a couple people telling me this was really sad and it made them cry a little, so I was thinking about an epilogue. Originally it was going to be sad also. It was going to be about Al....Now I'm thinking whether or not I should make it into a humorous epilogue...It's possible.

Thanks again! Love you all! You're the best!

~Akilina

Review! Or Ed will haunt you. And it won't be pretty.