A/N: So…. yeah! First time writing a planned-out, full-on plot-arch multi-chapter fic! :D It's going to be a long road ahead, but it's coming along well! Hope you enjoy! Wheeee Ed angst!

Edward's hands curled tightly into fists as his eyes scanned the scarred and bloodied battlefield, lingering briefly on an Amestrian flag. It fluttered grimly in the slight breeze, tattered and stained but a mark of victory nonetheless.

As the alchemist watched, the sun began to sink behind the horizon, leaving an orange glow in the smoke-filled air. The only noise he heard was the quiet weeping of a foot soldier mourning- for which comrade, Edward did not know

A subdued masculine voice broke Edward's focus on the sobbing soldier. "War brings death."

Edward jumped and had his hands halfway together before he realized who was addressing him. "Damnit, Mustang, don't sneak up on me like that," Edward spat, his voice shaking slightly. "And you're an idiot. Of course people die in war. I'm not a kid." The raven-haired man only shrugged in response and stepped forward to stand at Edward's side.

"Death in battle fosters revenge within the human soul, and revenge only incites more war." Edward nodded sharply in agreement, his golden braid jumping a little on his back.

"Damned as we are then, Brigadier General, how long will this cycle continue before we destroy ourselves?"

"That remains to be seen, Fullmetal. I think-"

"Aw c'mon, Bastard. Don't even try to sell me that shit about the purity of the human soul-" Edward stopped abruptly as eyes of deep onyx bored into his.

After a moment, Mustang looked away from the younger alchemist. "I wouldn't," he said simply, his voice rough and quiet.

Edward cleared his throat and fidgeted a bit before mumbling, "Y-yeah, I know you wouldn't Col- Brigadier General." Mustang nodded stiffly and coughed once.

"I think," he continued, "There's no simple way to halt the cycle entirely, The right leadership and a lack of corruption in the political system may go a long way to slow its acceleration." His eyes shifted to once again rest on the Fullmetal Alchemist's face. "There's more to it but it's not in the realm of the military, or in alchemy either."

Edward only looked back at the older man, confused. What else was there? He found himself at a loss until an image of Winry flashed through his brain. "Family?" he supplied. "Like… the way you were raised and how you see the world?"

Mustang only shrugged again. "Could be. It's up to humanity to figure that one out- you can't just set a law or perform alchemy to force people into seeing right and wrong they way you do. I suppose that's what you could call freedom- and that's always come at a hefty price." Eyes wide in comprehension, Edward nodded numbly.

"Equivalent exchange."

There was a tense moment of silence between the two dogs of the military, which broke only when a cry rose from the infirmary tent. It was a raw, agonizing scream Edward thought may rip his heart to shreds, Sympathy filled the teen- he was no stranger to immense pain, from amputation to automail surgery to a variety of serious wounds- and every time he knew another person was experiencing the same pain, it would make him feel strange. Connected, he supposed, to the man with whom he shared an experience on some level or another.

His scars would twinge and his heart would ache, but he would hide it behind his favorite mask: one of nonchalance. Today though, after a long and bloody battle, his emotions were getting the best of him. Dropping his head into his hands, Ed took shaky breaths as he held back tears. Mustang waited silently, his bloodstained uniform whipping in the wind in tandem with the flag he served.

After a few moments Edward blinked his eyes open and rubbed them furiously, and Mustang took a deep breath before addressing his subordinate.

"Do you want to make a difference, Ed?"

The alchemist in question looked at his mismatched hands before nodding.

"Then go tell that injured man down there that he's going to be okay." Gold met onyx once more as Ed's head snapped up.

"But what if he's not? What if he won't make it, or-" Mustang cut him off.

"It doesn't matter. You've been through this, you can help. You can give him hope, which is more than a field doctor can do."

Edward felt sick. "I don't even know the guy! Wh-what if I… uh-"

"You're his commanding officer. The men look up to you: you hold your own in battle, and for God's sake, you're not even eighteen and you have more scars than it's physically possible to count." Mustang's voice suddenly grew quiet. "Right now, that guy needs something more than the right leadership and a lack of corruption."

Edward's eyes widened as he understood what Mustang was telling him. Taking a deep breath, he nodded stiffly and turned towards the infirmary tent. "Yeah. Ok." Ed set his jaw. "If I pass out..." he added ominously, glaring at his superior.

"I'll owe you big time."

Ed smirked grimly. "You better mean that, Brigadier Bastard." Turning swiftly on his heel, he walked doggedly to the infirmary tent, pushed back the flap, and entered without a moment's hesitation.

Brigadier General Roy Mustang watched his subordinate's retreating back, and despite the grave situation he couldn't keep a wry smile from crossing his face. "Damn kid. He'll do it even if it kills him, so long as it's right."

A/N: Well? Please please please tell me how I did! And please subscribe; there are lots more chapters ahead! Reviews are LOVE 3! And feel free to provide helpful criticism, I'm still improving. ;P