He couldn't breathe.

He gasped and choked, and his hands clawed at his throat in the darkness, but nothing was there.

It was only that everything around him was closing in on him. Again.

It made no difference whether he was smiling or not on the outside.

Not when his inner world was crumbling into nothingness.

The anxiety was too much to handle.

But…what if he stopped trying to breathe?

Then it wouldn't hurt anymore.

Right?

xxx

He stood awkwardly by the entrance to the cafe, waiting for Roy. After Olivier had left, Ed had gone back to work, and Roy had seemed to be just fine. Honestly, he didn't even think about the incident again until it was closing time.

But now…

Now Roy was wringing his hands as he talked to Riza and looked upset. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he didn't want to eavesdrop anyway. Finally, Mustang sighed and hung up his apron on the hook before walking out from behind the counter to join Ed.

"Sorry about that, Ed. I just—"

"It's fine." The blond pushed away the apology. "I get it."

The older man gave him a grateful smile and they walked outside. Ed was turning to walk home when he felt Roy's hand on his shoulder. "Car, remember?" Ed blinked and shrugged, before following him to his car. "You want something to eat?" Roy asked, glancing sideways at the teen.

Ed shrugged. "Well there's no food at my house, so yeah we should probably pick up something now." Mustang nodded, and they went through the nearest drive-thru, Roy paying for all of it, despite Ed's protests that he could pay for his own meal.

And then they were standing at Ed's door, food in hand.

He breathed in, trying to calm himself. It seemed so real now. It wasn't real before—there was no way his father could be a part of something like Homunculus. And yet… He fumbled with his keys and pushed the front door open, stepping inside and flicking on the lights before motioning Roy in.

"You have a nice house," the older man commented, eyes glancing around at the décor. Ed was suddenly glad his mom regularly made him pick up the clutter, he didn't even want to think about Roy thinking they lived in a pigsty.

"Kitchen's this way." Ed muttered, leading Roy to the table and sitting down, pulling the food out of the bag and eating it. Roy gave him a sideways glance and he narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing. Just that suddenly you're a lot quieter than usual." The older man watched him silently. "If it's the case—"

Ed sighed and brushed his hair away from his face. "It's not that. I don't mind snooping through my old man's stuff. The bastard never did anything for me anyway. It's…" He trailed off, brow furrowing. Did I ever actually tell Roy about my own problems? He looked up at the barista and forced himself to take a deep breath. "We don't usually have visitors over. Not anymore. Not since my little brother Al got diagnosed with leukemia. It's just not a good idea to let people in when they might be carrying who knows what kinds of diseases." It was kinda quiet, kinda rushed, but there. He said it. Now it was out in the open. Suddenly, he felt even smaller than usual. He looked up and braced himself for the pity, the sympathy, the gut-wrenching feeling of helplessness sinking into his bones.

But…there was none of that. Mustang's eyes held the look of recognition and understanding, but Ed could tell—he did not pity him.

"Ah. That explains it," Roy said quietly. "I'm sorry that this mess with Olivier has come when you're already dealing with so much."

He felt his heart twist in his chest. "You don't have anything to be sorry for—"

"I'm sorry that you're hurting, Ed, and that this just adds to it."

He froze. "I'm not—how can you—you always do this, don't you?" he choked, feeling the tears prick at the corner of his eyes. "You say I'm hurting, but how could you know that—it's my brother who's hurting, not me! I-I'm a terrible person, I—"

"Ed." Mustang's hand landed on his shoulder. "I knew from the moment I met you that you were hiding your depression."

The sob escaped him and he shrugged off the hand on his shoulder, getting to his feet. He had to get out of the kitchen, had to hide somewhere—his room, maybe. "No! I swear I'm not—"

"It's ok." The arms wrapped around him and pulled him close and he curled his fingers into Mustang's shirt, hiding his face as he cried. "You're ok, Ed. It's ok to hurt. It means you care."

He shook his head, pushing Roy away slightly as he wiped at the corners of his eyes. "No, you don't understand—I care for Al, really I do, I love him more than my own life but I—" he sank to the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees and hiding his face. "I'm the worst person. I can't ever tell anyone how I feel. I'm despicable."

Roy said nothing, but Ed heard him sink to the floor and felt an arm wrap around his back. "You're just human, Ed. All of your emotions, however you're feeling, that's just part of being human."

He curled in on himself, shielding himself. If Roy knew…if anyone knew how he had been feeling, why he had been feeling like that, how he coped with his feelings, how suicide ran through his mind as a viable option…they would hate him. They would shun him, push him away, drive him closer to the edge and then he would do it—he'd take the dive, and then they'd hate him for that too—he couldn't do anything. Nothing was safe, nowhere was safe, he had to get out—The arm pulled him closer, and he leaned into Roy's embrace, still not daring to look up.

"It's ok, Ed." Mustang's voice broke through his thoughts and he opened his eyes slowly, eyes focusing on the gloved hand curled into a fist in Roy's lap.

"If you knew," he gasped, fingers digging into his knees, "you would leave me. Everyone would abandon me, I just know it."

"I'm not leaving, Ed. I'm here."

XXX

Hi everybody. It's…it's been a while. Hello my new readers! Hello my veterans! Let's see…it's summer again, and the Hollow-versary is today. Wow. I've grown up a lot since the beginning of this fic, and I've also learned a lot more about myself.

I struggle anxiety and depression. You already knew that, from reading this far. There are times when I'm really, really, down. I'm not going to lie and say that it's all fine. It's not. But since the time of first writing this fic, I have come to realize that although my sister's situation has affected me, the source of my troubles is me. I have always had low self esteem and when I was thrust into the college life it manifested in dark ways. Everything else was just the icing on top of the cake, so to speak.

But! I went to New York City this summer and got to see some fantastic museums, my sister finished her chemo this June (though she still has knee trouble and will have to do treatments for that), I'll be at several cons this summer working as a volunteer and staff, I'm graduating in December (cue anxiety over finding a job and being a working adult), we might be going to Hawaii for sis's Make-A-Wish over the winter break (I wanna see some lava!), she graduates from high school in May and goes off to college. Life is crazy and fun and troublesome all in one.

This chapter…uggh this chapter…I rewrote it so many times. I just didn't know what direction to go in, and let me tell you, a confession from Ed was not what I was expecting (even if we didn't really get to the heart of his issues but you know, it's a start at least). So! I say this every time, but I hope to post more updates soon. I would really love to wrap this story up entirely and move on, but unfortunately for me I added in a lot of plot elements that need tying up. So there will be plenty of more chapters while I try to figure out how to end this thing. Already 2 years though, huh…

I hope me venting has let you guys know you're not alone. I didn't intend that as the purpose of this fic, I just wanted to get stuff off my chest. But I'm glad if I have helped you in any way. Thank you so much for all the faves, follows, and reviews. I care for you guys more than you could ever imagine.