A/N: Please read Foul Depths and The Edge of Darkness first. I make references back to both of those stories with very little explanation. please excuse my mistakes, I'm going to come back and fix them later. Warnings for panic attacks, drug addiction, illness... eventually there will be a lot more injuries and medical procedures described.

Misery's Shadow

Chapter 1

Edward burst through the Colonel's door with a frantic sort of energy that caused Mustang's pen to go off to the side, creating a line that shot straight off the form he had been signing. He swore at the new ink mark on his desktop.

"My report." Edward said in a clipped tone. He set the short stack of papers down in the center of the desk before backing up a few feet and crossing his arms. Roy studied him for a moment. Fullmetal had been away for only one week and he hadn't expected him back for a few more days. He certainly hadn't expected the report to be ready so soon. Mustang stared, taking in Edward's appearance. His golden hair had grown out again, and it looked nearly back to normal. It was good to see him not limping or attempting to hide winces of pain. However, there were circles under his eyes and his hair was mussed, as though the boy had been unconsciously pulling at it. Overall, Ed looked restless as he fidgeted in place.

Something was wrong. Why else would Edward willingly come to his office before he absolutely had to?

It had been about two months since Edward had stayed with Roy and, for the most part, they had been able to continue on as though nothing had happened. The Colonel thought that Fullmetal must have been doing well. He had been looking better…However, looking at him now…

"What's wrong?" Mustang wouldn't tiptoe around the topic. Not if it concerned Edward's health. Not if there was even the slightest chance that Ed was struggling. He had promised himself that he wouldn't let Ed fall so far ever again.

"Nothing." Edward wasn't always cooperative though. Roy weighed his options carefully in his mind. After a moment, he finally set his pen down and picked up Edward's report. He let his eyes scan over the document. The writing was messy, written down in haste with a disregard for grammatical rules. It was a pretty standard Fullmetal report then.

"Sit down." Mustang commanded motioning to a chair that was set to the side of the room. Edward glanced at the object and then back at the Colonel quickly with his eyes narrowed.

"No, I can't." Ed responded tersely. The report was set down resolutely on the desk and Roy folded his hands on top of it. Slight panic and unease crept into the Colonel's mind, but he kept his expression calm. Edward not wanting to sit could just mean that he was having a bad day, a stressful day. It could mean that the nightmares were back. It doesn't mean he's using morphine again, Roy reminded himself.

Edward rolled his eyes and tapped the heel of his boot hard against the ground. "It's not what you think."

This didn't give Roy any sense of relief. "I've heard that before, Edward. What's going on?"

"It's nothing."

Alarm bells rang in the Colonel's mind. It was never 'nothing' with Edward. It was always something and in the past few months it was always something life threatening.

"You agreed you would tell someone if you were having problems again. You said you would talk to us if you started craving." Because that's what this was, wasn't it? Post-acute withdrawal the reading materials had said. Mood swings, anxiety, irritability, disturbed sleep…

"Do you still keep whiskey in your desk?" Edward bit out the remark.

"That's not the same-"

"Bullshit, Mustang."

Roy raised an eyebrow and, for a moment, Ed did look guilty for snapping. Mood swings. The boy certainly sounded like he did in those first few days of withdrawal…

"I didn't mean to say that. That's not what I meant to say." Edward pressed the palms of his hands hard into his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "I didn't come here to argue with you," Ed finally said.

"What's going on then?" The Colonel was still calm, calm and only slightly terrified.

"I haven't taken anything. No, really, I swear I haven't. I've just been… having trouble sleeping." Edward stared at the floor, as if he was embarrassed by the admission.

"Any particular reason?"

"Sam Barringer is dead." It was said so quickly, that the words didn't register with Mustang at first.

"What?" Roy actually gaped in surprise, because that is not what he had been expecting Fullmetal to say. Sam Barringer, older brother of Kaleb Barringer, who had been one of the first victims of the serial killer Warren Pace. Edward hadn't spoken about either of them in months. Mustang had been anticipating something about nightmares or maybe even a confession of craving again.

"We were going through that area and I checked in on him. The people there told me that it was reported as an accidental poisoning by strychnine, but… I don't think… I don't think it was..." Edward looked up at the Colonel, hoping that the man would understand what he couldn't say.

"You think he killed himself," Roy responded flatly.

Ed nodded and Mustang remained still. The air seemed to be sucked out of the room. It was too warm and the sudden silence was stifling. This conversation seemed to be hanging by a thread of emotion and Roy was listening for the snap of the strands breaking.

"I thought… I thought I helped him. I thought he could find peace… so I don't know why… I don't know… I don't…"

"Edward, take a breath." Roy was standing now, carefully making his way around his desk.

"It's my fault."

"No, Edward. You know that's not right. You aren't responsible. Breathe slowly." Mustang was within arm's reach, slowly, carefully coming closer.

"I know that's what everyone says, but things… terrible, awful things keep happening. And it feels like my fault. It feels so much like all my damn fault." Edward kicked out, his boot connected with the desk with a loud bang. Once, twice… the third kick never landed because Mustang was grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him away towards the center of the room. The Colonel couldn't just stand by, waiting to see if Ed could handle having someone being so close to him. Because Roy knew that the boy was using his flesh foot against the heavy wooden desk and there was no way in hell he would let Edward hurt himself right in front of him ever again.

Ed lost his footing and nearly stumbled to the floor. Mustang's grip tightened, keeping the boy from falling over completely. Edward twisted out of Roy's grip, staggering away several paces and clumsily catching himself against the wall. He slowly doubled over, resting his hands on his knees; he looked like he was going to be sick.

"Don't touch me." Ed ground out and Roy felt like he had been punched in the stomach. This was so much like before, was Edward really set back to where he was before?

"Don't hurt yourself," Mustang said quietly. He stepped away, giving Ed space, hoping it would be enough. "Just breathe."

"I am breathing," Ed snapped. It was true, Edward was taking in great noisy breaths, but they were too short, frantic… Mustang clenched his teeth and said nothing. He watched as Ed continued breathing, trying to regain control of his lungs again.

"Where's your brother?" Roy asked. It was hopefully a benign topic. Something that could serve as a distraction and not a stressor.

"Library," Ed answered after a moment. Mustang felt idiotic standing there, doing nothing, he had to keep talking at least.

"Does Alphonse know about Samuel Barringer?"

"He believes the story. That it was an accident." Edward's breathing was slowing down and he swallowed hard against the nausea he was still feeling.

"It may have been an accident, Edward. And even if Samuel Barringer killed himself, it wasn't your fault. He obviously had some other issues that he couldn't work through…"

"Because of his brother; because he died and that was because of me too!" Ed was pressing his palms hard into his eyes again and Roy thought he might sink to the floor. He certainly looked as though he was falling apart, deteriorating right in front of him. Like watching fine threads snapping from strain.

"I'm calling Hughes," the Colonel muttered.

"I don't need Hughes here." Edward spat out.

"I'm not calling him for you."

This made Edward look up at the Colonel. He was so busy with his breakdown, he hadn't realized what he was doing. He was scaring the Colonel… again. He couldn't keep doing this, he needed to pull it together. He was sick of being the cause of Mustang's worry and concern. He was going to destroy him too, just like he had destroyed Kaleb and now Sam…

"I don't want him to see me." Ed swallowed down the vomit that had begun to creep up his throat. Then, just like that, his walls went up. He wouldn't do this anymore. He would protect the Colonel from his destructive behavior. Mustang had been inconvenienced enough by him. With too much effort, Edward forced himself to stand up straight. He was so tired... It would be so easy to give in, to be weak, but he couldn't… Once he was fully upright, he glanced at the chair. In three halting steps, Edward dragged himself to it and sat down heavily. "See?" Ed croaked. "It's fine. I'm fine."

Mustang didn't buy the act. "Yeah, I've heard that before. I'm going to put you on leave again. Take a few weeks off."

"No!" Edward nearly lurched from the seat, but he caught himself and eased further back into the chair, clearing his throat. "Just… no, I've already wasted too much time. If you have a lead on the Philosopher's stone, you have to let me know. I can't keep wasting time and I can't just sit around doing nothing. I can't. It's better if I keep busy. Please, Colonel."

In the end, it was the use of the word 'please' that did it. Edward never said please for anything… if the kid was that desperate to get away, to keep busy, maybe it would be for the best…

"Well, I was going to have you go West, but it's far out. I don't know if you should…"

"It's fine. I promise. I'll do better if I keep busy." Edward's voice sounded strong then, the remnants of his panic attack being pushed away with determination. If Roy was in the same situation, he would want to keep busy as well, maybe this was the better option.

"Alright, but you need to call here to check in every day," Roy acquiesced. "If you start having problems, you need to tell Alphonse and come back. Don't be stubborn about this."

"I won't be. I swear."

Roy sighed. He felt a gnawing at his gut that told him this didn't feel right, but Ed looked desperate. If he forced him to stay in the city, it could make him worse. Besides, maybe being out in a different environment would do the young alchemist some good.

"All right, you can leave in three days. Get some rest before then."

Ed gave him a grateful smile. He could make it through this. He wasn't broken. He would prove to them that he could do this.

9 days later, the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric was officially reported as missing.

A/N: I'm back! I meant to have this posted for Christmas… and then New Year's… At least it's posted before February?

Story Title is from this quote by C.S. Lewis: "Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief."

Luckily, I have nearly half of this story written. So the next chapter just needs to be fixed up. My goal here is to post once a week. I'm going to be trying to get it posted on Fridays. This chapter is a little early this week because I'm excited to be posting again.

Thank you everyone and please leave me a review!