Ed reassured Roy for what must have been the thirtieth time as they stepped through the double doors of the hospital, shifting the bag he was carrying into his automail arm so he could squeeze Roy's hand gently with his human one. It's fine. I'm fine with this. I already told you: I want to be here, with you.

On the third Thursday of every month, Roy spent the day in the Veterans Ward at the military hospital. All these years he had never mentioned to Ed where he was going, despite the fact that they now lived together and ostensibly shared things with each other. Edward was very perceptive, not to mention nosy, so it didn't exactly slip past him that Roy came home once a month even more sullen than usual. Often he would refuse to come to bed, and Ed would pretend not to hear the clinking of the bottle of scotch downstairs, and then pretend to be asleep when Roy stumbled into bed next to him, clutching him so tightly he left bruises.

Ed had interrogated him on several occasions, but Roy refused to talk about it. He would only say that he'd had a hard day at work and would appreciate it if Ed left him alone. More than once this had ended in an argument. Last month it had erupted into a full scale fight, with Ed yelling at the top of his lungs about how Roy never talked to him and Roy storming out of the house, not telling Ed where he was going. At 4AM, practically out of his mind with worry, Ed had found Roy passed out dead drunk on the floor of Havoc's dorm room. Jean had said to him, quietly exhaling cigarette smoke, "Didn't you know? This is the Colonel's monthly expiation for his sins."

After that Ed had refused to let the matter drop, insisting on coming with Roy to the hospital this month, despite his protests. He even had Riza add his name to the official memo which appeared on Roy's desk that morning: Edward Elric will be accompanying Colonel Mustang to the hospital ward. He wasn't going to let Roy get away with this suffering-in-silence bullshit. If this was what Roy was dealing with, Ed wanted to meet it head-on. How can I help him if he wont let me in? Ed was determined to see this through, despite his own fear and dislike of hospitals. He had even agreed to put on his rarely-worn and ill-fitting Amestrian military uniform for the occasion. If this isn't dedication, I don't know what is…

They moved through several sets of locked doors and finally came into the Veterans lobby. As Roy was signing them in at the desk, a barrage of shouting met their ears.

"It's the Young Colonel! Everybody come on out! It's the Young Colonel!"

An aged man in a wheelchair moving entirely too fast was headed straight for them. Ed was about to clap his hands in preparation for some quick alchemy, but Roy touched his shoulder and shook his head almost imperceptibly. Then he turned around to face the man in the wheelchair, who immediately came to a (near crashing) halt, sharply saluting Roy as he did so.

"Sir! We've been waiting for you, Colonel, Sir! Something must be done about the quality of the rations we're getting in here! Not fit for pigs in a sty, I tell you! Not for pigs in a sty! I keep telling that dimwitted gal who's supposed to be a nurse that I want to file an official military complaint! But she doesn't listen! It's up to you, Sir! We're trapped like rats in a hole, here, Sir! Like rats in a hole!"

Roy put on his most charming smile and reached into the bag that Ed was carrying with a flourish, pulling out a shiny red apple.

"Not to worry, Lieutenant Takahashi! Despite subterfuge and treachery, your message still made it through enemy lines! There will be fresh fruit for the victorious troops! Just remember, none for General Sato – he's diabetic. No sneaking any into his room after I'm gone!"

"Yes Sir, Colonel, Sir!" The old lieutenant reached for the apple as if it were made of solid gold. When he finally had it in his shaking grasp, he turned his wheelchair around with dexterity that impressed the hell out of Edward, then spun out down the hall, shouting, "Victory at last! Victory at last! The Young Colonel is here!"

Ed threw Roy a quizzical glance. "The Young Colonel…?"

"What, are you implying the title is unfitting?" Roy demurred, putting on an offended look.

"Well, I suppose compared to these old geezers…" Ed stopped, startled. Someone was tugging at his cuff.

"Eh? Who's this? Eh? Colonel, who's this kid?" Another balding wheelchair denizen was eyeing him suspiciously, still pulling at his arm. Who's a kid? I just turned twenty! But then, this guy was probably 120. To him, Roy was a kid, too.

"General Ito, this is Major Edward Elric. He's here helping me today."

"Major? Little short to be a major, eh?"

Ed growled; Roy stepped on his foot. I've grown three inches in the last two years! Three whole inches…!

"Nevertheless, Major Shortie here is perfectly capable of peeling a banana for you, if you would like." Roy smiled smugly.

I'm gonna kill him. I don't care how upset his is after this. I'm still gonna kill him.

"Yes! Come on, Major Shortie, I want a banana!"

Ed pulled out the fruit, shooting Roy a look that said you are so dead later, then started peeling. Roy continued to smirk.

"Colonel! Colonel! You have to come quick! It's a mutiny! We're all going to die!"

Ed had never seen anyone quite like this old man. His snow white hair was flowing wildly around his head and his arms seemed too long for the rest of his body. Or maybe he just gave that impression because he was windmilling his long limbs around like crazy and trying to pilot his wheelchair at the same time. Plus there was a full-sized Amestrian flag attached to the back of his wheelchair. The effect was something like an out-of-control bicyclist careening down a hill carrying a giant flag while being attacked by a flock of rabid pigeons.

Roy immediately snapped to attention, dropping down on one knee to speak to the man in the wheelchair face to face. "Lieutenant Kobayashi! What's the situation? I demand a full report, soldier!"

"Sir! There's been an insurrection, Sir! It's total chaos, and the enemy is taking advantage of the mutiny! They're firebombing the main camp! It's every man for himself! Brothers are killing brothers! Someone has to restore order, A.S.A.P.!"

"Lieutenant. you know what this means, don't you?" Roy's face was one hundred percent serious. Ed couldn't believe it.

"Yes, Sir, Colonel, Sir!"

"It's up to you, Lieutenant Kobayashi, to hoist the flag! Only you can do it! Only you can rally the troops! I'm counting on you, Lieutenant! You tell them that Colonel Mustang demands order in this camp! Is that understood?"

"Understood, Sir! Yes, Sir, Colonel, Sir!" At that, Roy stood up and removed the ridiculously huge flag from the back of his wheelchair and placed it in the man's eager hands.

"Dismissed, Lieutenant! And don't you dare let that flag touch the ground!"

"Yes, Sir, Colonel, Sir!" Turning his chair around (which was quite the feat, one-handed), he pointed the huge flag ahead of him and wobbled to and fro down the hallway, calling out, "To me, men, to me! Colonel Mustang demands order in this camp!"

Ed just stared. By this time, word had gotten around that "The Young Colonel" was in residence and all the old soldiers were coming out of the woodwork. Roy knew every single one of them by name and by rank, and he seemed to know just what to say to satisfy each one. Some gave him their laundry list of complaints, others wanted to know what was going on in the military and in the outside world. Still others like Lieutenant Kobayashi wanted him to participate in whatever long ago military combat situation they were playing out in their heads.

Roy responded to them all flawlessly, like an actor on a stage. Yes, Sir, it was a shame that so many veterans were left alone to die, and of course he would file a formal complaint to the Fuhrer about it immediately. No, Sir, glory and honor had absolutely not died out in the military, though of course it was more glorious and more honorable during your time, General. Absolutely, Sir, you should send in the reserve troops now, right away, don't wait, and tell the men not to fire till they see the whites of their eyes. And please have an orange. Major Elric will peel it for you.

Ed stood numbly with his little bag of fruit, shuffling his feet from side to side. He felt really awkward and really useless and ashamed that he'd been foolish enough to think he would be able to support Roy in this situation. This was really… out of his league. He himself had no idea what to say to any of these old guys. And frankly, most of them gave him the creeps. Especially the ones who were going on about whatever crazy campaigns they'd been in a hundred years ago.

Even just passing out the fruit was really challenging. Half of the old guys couldn't hold the pieces themselves, so Ed was in this weird position of not knowing whether he should help or not. Most of them dribbled orange and apple juice all over their shirts, and Ed didn't know if he should try to wipe it off or just leave it be. Where were the nurses, anyway? Weren't they supposed to do this stuff? But the nurses seemed to have given Roy free reign of the place. Ed didn't think it was possible to feel more awkward.

None of this seemed to bother Roy in the slightest. He helped the old soldiers in and out of their wheelchairs with ease, he offered his hand to walk them back and forth to their rooms, he wiped their chins with his handkerchief and laughed (since when did Roy even carry a handkerchief?) He straightened military pictures on the wall, he re-pinned medals on proud chests, he checked to make sure absolutely everything was in perfect working order. Everyone loved him. Ed was astounded.

The thing that Ed couldn't figure out was that Roy just seemed so happy here. It was incongruous that this should be the source of so much angst. Ed had learned how to read Roy's carefully guarded expressions very well over the years. He knew when he was faking it, when he was pasting on a smile just for show, like when he went to go visit Gracia and Elicia. It was obvious to Ed that Roy wasn't faking it right now. He really was enjoying himself. Ed didn't get it. This was what drove him to drink every month? Something about this scenario didn't add up.

After a while, the Young Colonel's fanclub died down and most of the old men returned to their rooms. Ed was glad because he was out of fruit and now he really didn't know what to do with himself. Roy had advised him to go get a sandwich from the hospital cafeteria, which he had inhaled in about 30 seconds. When he came back, Roy was speaking closely with the nurses at the desk. Was this it? Were they leaving now? But it was only noon…

Roy turned and smiled at Edward. It was the fake smile. "Ed, if you like, you can go home now. I just have a few more patients to check up on, and then I'll be going back to work. I really appreciate you coming today; you've been a big help."

"You're lying to me."

Roy's face turned dark. He moved close to Ed so that they would not be overheard. "Edward. This is neither the time nor the place."

"Where are you going now? Why wont you tell me the truth?"

"Keep quiet! If you make a scene here, Edward Elric, I will not forgive you, do you understand me?"

"There will be no need for me to make a scene if you'll just let me go with you!"

Roy took him roughly by the arm and steered him out of hearing distance. His voice was tense and harsh. "Damn it, Edward, I am trying to protect you! There's no reason for you to have to go up there! Please just trust me and go home!"

"Up where?"

The look that flashed across Roy's face frightened Edward, and for a moment, he lost his resolve. It was the look that Roy got when he went away, to that place where Ed couldn't reach him. Ed's world always seemed to wobble on its axis whenever Roy had that look. The entire reason Ed was here was because he wanted this; he wanted Roy to be vulnerable in front of him; he wanted to witness his pain, to see all of those terrible things he hid so well behind his walls, and yet… it still scared him. There was a part of him that needed Roy to be strong and safe always, the rock that Ed could cling to in the storm, and that part of him was flat-out terrified right now.

Roy sighed, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, the frightening look was gone, replaced with one of concern, perhaps pity. "Up to the psych ward, Ed. Where they put the soldiers who have lost their minds." He pulled Ed into the corner of the room, well away from the nurses' desk, then took his head in his hands. "Ed… look at me. You don't have to do this. I'll let you win, okay? Please don't do this just because you want to prove to me that you can. I believe you."

"But… but that's not it, I want to – "

"I get that you want to help, but you have to understand that this is not helping. If I have to worry about you, I wont be able to do my job up there."

"You don't have to worry about me. I wont get in your way. I just… I want to…" Ed didn't know how to make himself say it. I want to know what wakes you up screaming in the middle of the night. I want to see what almost happened to you, what could still happen to you. If there's even a chance that something I see up there can help me help you, I want to see it. I want to see you with open eyes. I don't want you to have to hide from me anymore. Please let me carry some of this burden for you. Please.

"Roy… I was a soldier, too. I… need to see."

Roy's dark eyes searched him; Ed struggled to keep his gaze steady. Let me in, Roy. I'm strong enough. Let me in.

The Colonel sighed again, this time in resignation. "Edward, I cannot protect you up there, do you understand? There are things that you are going to see that… you might not be able to handle. Are you prepared for that?"

Ed didn't answer; he just stared at Roy with determined eyes.

"I want you to promise me that you will take yourself out of there if it becomes too much. That you will come down here and wait for me. Don't try to make it home. Don't run somewhere where I can't find you. There's a small garden out back. Go there. Put your head between your knees and breathe. Don't do anything stupid. No alchemy. Promise me."

"I-I promise."

Roy surprised Edward then by taking him into his arms and holding him close for just a moment. He pulled back, his hands on Ed's shoulders. His eyes were filled with a dark sadness, his voice almost a whisper. "I'm sorry, Ed."

"For what?"

"You'll know soon enough. Follow me."

Roy turned abruptly and passed through a door that led to a set of metal stairs. They climbed the stairs in silence, their footsteps echoing loudly. At the top was a steel door locked with several deadbolts. Roy had a large set of keys that clinked ominously as he worked them into the locks. The second door was followed by another staircase, another bolted door, then a third, then a fourth.

Not for the first time in his life, Ed had the sickening feeling that he had just talked himself into something way over his head. He tried to steel himself for the task ahead of him. This is for Roy. For Roy. You can do it. You can face this. Roy deals with this every single day. You can do it this one time. It's too late to be chickenshit now.

When they reached the fifth floor, Roy unlocked a second door next to the first one. "If you're going to be sick, be sick in here. It's the only bathroom on this floor." He turned to look at Ed one more time. "It's not too late for you to bail out of this."

"I'm fine, Roy."

"You are free to go at any time. Just remember that."

"Got it."

Ed watched as Roy turned the key in the lock of the first door down the hall. They entered a small, dimly lit room that smelled vaguely of urine. A wizened old man lay in the narrow bed, staring forward. His eyes did not follow them as they entered.

"Good morning, General Ichiro, how are you today? Colonel Mustang reporting." There was no response. Unfazed, Roy pulled up a chair next to the bed and took the General's hand. Ed stood where he was by the door.

"Some good news for you, General. The Amestris Army Corps of Engineers finally finished that trail blazing expedition over the Briggs Mountain Range into Drachma. Remember, the project you were in charge of supervising more than thirty five years ago? After you retired, it dragged along even slower than it had before. But they finally finished it. Can you believe it? We finally have decent, safe military passage from Amestris to Drachma. Only took them four hundred years."

The General said nothing. His glassy eyes continued to stare forward. He gave no sign that he heard what Roy was saying or that he even knew he was there.

"I honestly thought we'd get the military women to wear mini-skirts before they finished that damned passage! It's a miracle it happened at all, what with that idiot Yamazaki in charge. He wants to name the passage after himself, can you believe it? I'll have you know, I'm lobbying to get it named after you, which is only right and fitting. Yamazaki doesn't deserve his name on a damned sewer pipe."

Ed swore the old general didn't even blink. Not once. Just stared. Stared at nothing. Stared at the white wall in front of him that never changed. Where were his thoughts, Ed wondered? Did he even know where he was, or who he was? Was he stuck forever in some 30 year old battlefield? Did anyone besides Roy ever even come to see him? Was it even worth living like that? An image flashed into Ed's mind of Roy staring at a wall for eternity, and he shook himself all over. Not going to happen. Not over my dead body.

Roy chatted away for another five minutes. The General showed no sign of change. Eventually Roy patted his hand, bid him farewell, and they moved on to the door across the hall.

The old man in the second room was similar to the first, only he mumbled to himself instead of staring in silence. He seemed to fall asleep after a few minutes, so Roy moved on to the next door. And the next. And the next. And the next.

There were dozens just like General Ichiro, who barely acknowledged their presence. A lot of the vets talked to themselves, often nonsensically, giving phantom orders to men who were likely long dead. Some would suddenly shout out obscenities or battle cries, which scared the living crap out of Ed the first couple of times. One old man kept shouting, "Get out! Get out! Get out!" at full volume, and Ed couldn't believe it when Roy marched right in, sat down next to him and took his hand anyway.

Roy was just as graceful and as courteous as he was downstairs, but Ed could tell that this work put much more of a strain on him. His brows were knitted despite his smile, and there was a heaviness about him that seemed to grow exponentially as they continued.

The first real shock Ed experienced was when they entered a room to find a bearded man with two automail arms, one of which had been crudely sawed off at the elbow. Ed must have been unconsciously clutching at his own arm, because the old soldier noticed immediately.

"Come here, boy!" Ed froze and looked at Roy, but the Colonel's blank expression didn't offer any help. Reluctantly, Ed stepped closer.

"Let me see that piece of yours!"

The absolute last thing Ed wanted to do was to strip down naked in front of this old man. He hated people staring at his automail at the best of times. This was far, far from the best of times. Ed swallowed, fighting to keep calm.

"Come on, boy, I can tell you've got mail under there; it's plain as goddamned day! Your arm and your leg both! What, are you ashamed? There's nothing to be ashamed of! Soldiers should be proud of their battle scars, boy! Look at me; land mine took both my arms and legs! You don't see me skulking around, ashamed of myself, do you?"

Our situations are completely and totally different. And yet, when Ed thought about it, was he really so different from this old veteran? This man had been in an accident; Ed had been in an accident. It was an accident which he was convinced was his own fault, but it had still been an accident.

What was more - and this was the truly terrifying part – how different was Ed's fate from the fate of this old man? What was Ed's life going to be like when he was 80 years old? Automail didn't last forever. Eventually, the muscles around the port were simply no longer able to bear the weight, the nerves ceased firing properly into the metal components and the limb was as good as dead.

It had been Granny Pinako's least favorite thing to have to do, Ed remembered, having to hack off someone's automail like that as a last resort. It was only done when there was no other way to remove or replace it without injury to the patient, and the dead weight was doing more harm than good. She had never let Winry accompany her on those particular jobs, and she'd always come back with a stern face, brewing some strong tea.

How long did this man have, Ed wondered, till both his arms and legs were totally useless? He seemed to have use of his right arm, but the other limbs were more than likely already gone. Ed didn't know if it was empathy that moved him or simply pity, but somehow, he couldn't refuse the man. Stepping closer, he removed his uniform jacket enough to let his right arm free, extending it in the direction of the old soldier.

"Ho, ho! That's a nice piece you've got there! There's no way the military issued you a piece like that. No way in hell."

Against his better judgment, he let the old man reach out and touch it. He regretted it almost immediately when the soldier grabbed Ed roughly by the elbow and wrenched him forward so that they were face to face. Suddenly his voice changed dramatically, taking on a paranoid, frantic tone, his eyes darting back and forth wildly.

"Listen to me, boy! Don't you let them get you, do you understand? The military, they have ways of using people like you and me, with their crazy experiments and their mad scientists! Don't let them near you! Run, boy! Get the hell out while you can!"

Ed couldn't move. Panic was creeping up his spine like a clawing insect, but then he felt Roy's reassuring presence behind him, pulling him gently but firmly away from the old man, his strong hand on Ed's middle back.

"Sergeant Kuroki, I don't believe the young Major here has heard the story of how you heroically defended the pass at Andrew's Point? Perhaps you'd like to tell him all about it?"

The old veteran switched immediately back to his previous manner of speaking as if nothing had happened. "What? Hasn't heard? How could he not have heard so famous a tale as that? Well, it all started that night when me and my battalion were sneaking through the enemy camp…"

Tears filled Ed's eyes, and he blinked them away angrily. He was supposed to be helping Roy up here, not the other way around. Roy had been right. Ed was no help at all; he was a hindrance instead. He almost gave up right then and there and just headed downstairs to wait for Roy to finish doing what he had to do.

Except that something inside of him refused to leave Roy alone in this. Even though he knew he was useless, perhaps worse than useless, the thought of Roy doing this all alone every single month for years without telling him just drove him mad. No one should have to do something like this alone. The very idea that Roy took all this upon himself was completely crazy. Even if he was useless and a hindrance, Ed refused to give up. This was a part of Roy's life that he'd been denied access to for a long time. No matter how awkward or painful it was, he wasn't going to pass up the chance to finally bear witness to it.

They continued on, door after door, until they all started to blur together in a vague haze of nausea. Ed felt like he had stumbled into another world, one that was grey and bleak and terrifying, forgotten by everyone but himself and his brave, martyred Colonel. At some point during their seemingly endless trek, he realized that Roy wasn't simply going down the line of doors in order; he would skip certain rooms and go back to them later. Ed wasn't sure what the reasoning was behind this until one of the patients started screaming, and he realized that Roy had saved the worst for last.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Don't let them die!!"

Edward's blood froze. The trembling man's eyes were opened so wide in horror they looked like they might literally pop from his skull. He turned his scraggly head and screamed directly in Roy's face, his gnarled hands like claws digging into the Colonel's arm.

"You killed them!! You murderer! You horrible, disgusting foul murderer! How could you do it? How could you murder all those innocent souls? Die, you bastard! Burn in the fires of your own private hell!"

Roy just sat there blankly, all of those terrible, terrible words rushing over him like a murderous tidal wave. Ed flattened himself to the door, sure this time he was going to be sick, but he couldn't make himself leave the room. Stop it! Stop it, you crazy old bastard! Can't you see what you're doing to him…!

"What did you do?! WHAT DID YOU DO!? Who do you think you are, that you can take lives like some kind of blood-drenched God of War? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE??"

To Ed's absolute horror, Roy answered him. "I don't know," he said quietly. A single tear slipped down his cheek.

Edward stopped breathing. No. This can't be happening. Roy! Snap out of it! He's not talking to you! He doesn't even know who you are…!

"Roy…!"

The Colonel wasn't listening. He bowed his head, as if begging the crazy man's forgiveness. The old vet was relentless. "You're going to burn in Hell for your sins! BURN!!"

It suddenly hit Edward like a slap in the face. Didn't you know? This is the Colonel's monthly expiation for his sins. Roy didn't just do this because he felt like he owed it to the veterans; he was deliberately punishing himself. He came here because he felt like he deserved this.

Ed had to do something, anything, but he had no idea in fucking hell what to do. This was beyond over his head; this was on another fucking planet. I'm useless to him, I'm totally fucking useless…!

"BURN! BURN! They're all going to burn! Don't let them! Don't let them die! Stop it! They're burning! Stop them, stop them from burning, why wont you stop it? They're all dying! I can hear them screaming! STOP IT!! STOP THE SCREAMING!!"

The frantic old man was now clutching desperately at Roy as if he were his only salvation. Roy was sitting on the bed, cradling the old soldier, his face stark-white, his dark eyes huge and empty, frighteningly similar to the vacant stares of the old men they'd just seen. His Colonel was far, far away, and Ed could do nothing but stand and stare and try not to throw up.

Ed closed his eyes and focused on breathing through his nose. He was hyperventilating. This is not good. Fuck!

Terrible sobs came from the old man, and Roy held on, letting him claw and scratch at him as the deranged man wailed at the top of his lungs. Ed was watching Roy like a hawk, looking for any indication that he was still okay, that he was still here, in this room, present among the living. Roy's eyes closed, and Ed felt bile rising in his throat. Don't leave me, Roy, don't go where I can't follow…!

When Roy started shaking, Ed made up his mind. He didn't give a fuck anymore. He didn't care if Roy was pissed at him afterwards. Rushing over to the bed, he grabbed Roy by the collar and yanked him away from the old man.

"ROY!!"

They crashed to the floor, Roy struggling in Ed's grasp. Ed finally pinned him down, his metal fist to Roy's heaving chest, Roy's fingers clutching in vain at Ed's immovable arm. Roy called out, but when he called, it wasn't to Edward.

"Goddamn it, Maes, I told you I was fine! How many times to I have to fucking tell you?? Will you please get the hell off of me?"

Ed stared. Tears sprang to his eyes against his will and a sob escaped his lips. Roy was looking straight through him, as if he weren't there at all. "Roy…" His voice broke. Ed had never hated himself more.

"Roy, come back to me, please come back…! I don't know what to do! I'm… I'm scared, please come back, please!"

He was about to throw himself on top of Roy in desperation, when suddenly, Roy's face changed. He was staring at his hands as they traced up and down Ed's metal arm.

"Edward."

A waterfall of relief flooded Ed's entire body. He's okay, he's come back to me, he's come back…!

This time he did throw himself on top of Roy, and he couldn't stop himself from sobbing. Roy's strong arms wrapped around him as he sat up, pulling Ed into his lap. "I'm sorry," he whispered into Ed's hair, again and again, "I'm so sorry."

"S'okay," Ed sniffed. "I'm just… glad you're back."

"Edward, it's not okay, I…"

The old man, who had stopped screaming during the tussle, was starting to take up his cries again.

"Ed, please go downstairs and wait for me in the garden. I wont be long; there's only a few more, and none like this. Please. I need to know that you are safe. I'm begging you."

To Ed's complete surprise, Roy actually put his hands in prayer position and bowed his head. If this hadn't been such a traumatic moment, Ed would have cracked a joke about taking a picture for posterity.

"All right, all right, I'll go. But if you're not down there in half an hour, I'm coming back up here. With alchemy."

"Got it."

The old vet's cries had become insistent, and Roy stood up and took his hand once more, though he firmly resisted the old man's grasping arms this time. Satisfied, Edward let himself out, trailing his way through the maze of doors and stairwells until he finally made it out to the blessed sunlight of the little garden.

Throwing himself flat on the ground, he stared up at the blue sky and thanked every god he didn't believe in for his freedom and his mental stability.

"Had enough up there, Major Shortie?"

Ed looked up to see the wheelchaired man whom he'd given a banana to earlier, General Ito, sitting next to a sapling maple tree, smoking a cigarette that had to be against the rules.

Too tired to argue, Ed flopped back down on the ground. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Well, don't let it bother you. Young people can't be expected to stomach much of that kind of thing."

"I'm… okay with it."

"You really care about him, don't you. The Young Colonel."

Ed sat up, wary. "I'm… not sure what you mean."

"Ech, you young people assume we old fogies know nothing about nothing. Well guess what: I, too, was young once, believe it or not. And I know what I see when I see it. That was a very brave thing you did, going up there with him like that. And I'll tell you something else, too. The fact that he let you go with him says a hell of a lot. A hell of a lot."

Ed looked at the ground, prodding it with his foot. He hoped his cheeks weren't coloring.

"You can pretend it's not true all you like, I don't care. But I'll tell you what. I've been watching the Young Colonel ever since he started coming here. I watch him when he goes up, and I watch him when he comes down. It's plain as day how much he suffers. But I'll tell you what. You're the first person he's allowed to accompany him up there since Lieutenant Colonel Hughes died. The very first one."

Ed kicked the dirt some more. "I just… I felt really useless up there. Like there was nothing I could do. I just stood there."

"You stood where others fear to tread. You think that's nothing?"

"I just… wish I could help him."

He was saying too much to this old man; he should really stop, but there was something about his demeanor that somehow put Ed at ease.

"You are helping him, my boy. You definitely are. You just wait. I'll tell you what. In all the years I've been watching your Young Colonel, I've never, ever seen him come down those stairs with a smile on his face. Always looked like he just came back from a vacation in Hell. You just wait. I bet you ten of these contraband cigarettes he'll find a smile for you. You think it was nothing, what you did? Some day, when you're old, like me, you'll realize the value of having someone stand by your side. Hopefully before it's too late. Mark my words, boy. You did a good thing today."

General Ito stubbed out his cigarette on the side of the small tree. "Do me a favor there, kid, and bury this for me? Those damned nurses will have a five-alarm fit if they find my butts in this damned garden, no doubt… Hey, speak of the Devil…!"

Ed turned, expecting to see one of the mean-looking nurses and trying to think up a quick plea so he wouldn't be considered an accomplice, but instead, it was Roy. His coat was thrown over his shoulder, and he looked very, very tired. Nevertheless, he came over to where Ed was sitting in the dirt with his legs sprawled out, took one look at him and brought out his classic Roy Mustang smirk.

"Burying the General's cigarettes, are we? I can see I'm going to need to give you some briefing for next time."

Ed looked up at General Ito. The General winked. Next time, huh?

Roy offered his hand; Ed took it and stood up. He felt Roy squeeze it gently before letting go. "Come on, let's go home. I'm starving, aren't you?"

Some day, when you're old, like me, you'll realize the value of having someone stand by your side. Hopefully before it's too late.

Ed waved to General Ito as they made their way out of the hospital. "See ya, Major Shortie!"

"By the way, I still owe you a kick in the shin for that."

"Good thing, since that's about as high as you can reach."

"You're just digging yourself in deeper, you know."

"Am I?" Roy's eyes shone with laughter. Ed couldn't help but smile.

It's not too late. I'm not leaving his side. I'm not that easy to get rid of. As they made their way home, side by side in the fading light, Ed found himself feeling just a little less useless.