What? Another one-shot? And so close to the last one? Is the world coming to an end? Nope! This has been written for a while actually, and I was going through my nearly 100 notes on my Ipod that are potential fanfics (Yeah, you read that right, its close to one hundred) and I found this guy. It's short, sweet, and has parental moments, as is my preference. :) Anyway, hope you enjoy and review. Critique is welcome, just if you could word it, for lack of a better term, nicely, it would be appreciated.

Oh, and I realize many of my fanfics may not have this disclaimer, but I'd think it obvious that I don't own FullMetal Alchemist. I don't even own a manga, I borrow it from the library :P

Oh, and theres a little italisizing (SP?) in there, its a flashback. and there's another couple but they're thoughts or emphasis on a word. Y'all should be able to discern them by the context.

The search had been called off. It had been months since he had been seen, and the military was no longer willing to have their valuable soldiers out in the middle of nowhere searching for someone who obviously wasn't there.

So they had labeled him deceased, after all that he had done for the military, for them to simply give up after a mere month of searching, it drove Mustang wild.

Edward Elric, sixteen year old FullMetal Alchemist, only person to ever perform human transmutation twice and survive. After four long years of searching, he finally managed to bring his brother back to the flesh, only to be taken away by an idiot with a knife.

Mustang could have stopped it too, had he not brought the kid on the mission. The second alchemist hadn't been necessary for the completion or success of their mission, and yet, for some reason, he had ordered the kid to come along. He might as well have just kicked him off the cliff himself.

They had been out in the Eastern mountains searching for a terrorist group when they'd been jumped. One of them, the largest one, had gone after Ed, and although the young teen fought hard, he was too close to the edge and nearly fell several times. The terrorist wouldn't let him get his feet on more solid ground.

Edward had been forced to take another slight step back and looked back, only for a second, but at that precise moment, a shot rang out, sending the man falling forward, the knife in his hand catching Edward in his right side and throwing his already precarious balance off even more. He had looked at them with fear in his eyes and he reached out with one hand as he tried to force himself forward, and was almost there, Hawkeye and Mustang coming over to help him, when the rock cracked, sending the young alchemist to his death, fifty feet below, his fingers having just barely touched the rock in front of him.

"Edward!" they screamed. Mustang snapped his fingers in frustration, burning the other terrorists quite effectively, and then the team had gone down the mountain themselves. They found the pile of rock and snow, but no Edward.

"Maybe, its the wrong one," Havoc suggested weakly.

"No, the terrorist is just a few feet away, and look," Hughes knelt down in the snow, "he's gone, and look," he pulled a bright red piece of fabric from the snow, torn and tattered and covered in a fresh, darker red liquid, "his coat. And injured this badly, he really can't have gotten very far," he said.

"FullMetal!" Mustang shouted out suddenly, "FullMetal!"

They had searched for hours trying to find that kid, and by the time they got back to Eastern Command, they all had frostbite, but none worse then the Colonel who had refused to go in until he had literally passed out on them. He had awoken on the train ride back and had been shivering violently, muttering rapidly about his failures, the cold obviously having got to him. A few hours later they were back at Eastern Command, without Edward.

They had continued searching for him, but turned up less then the first time. Slowly, but surely, they began to lose hope of ever seeing the blond alchemist again.

But even though their hope was shattered, it didn't stop them from searching, even when the search was called off. It had only been when the Führer threatened them with a court marshal that they finally stopped searching for they boy they had come to know and love.

To most of the team, he was like a little brother, desperate to prove to them he was old enough to have earned his rank, but to Mustang, he was a son. None of them knew when it had started, they knew it must have been something slowly building up over time, but now he was gone. Never again to come walking angrily into the office, never to give some smart ass remark or give that cocky grin. He was gone.

'It really is true what they say,' Mustang thought as he looked dejectedly out the window, 'you don't realize what you have until it's gone...'

"Sir, the report needs to be signed to be put away in the records," Hawkeye told him gently, pulling him from his thoughts, "the people upstairs aren't too happy knowing that you haven't yet signed it."

Mustang looked up at her, "I can't, Hawkeye. It's my fault he's gone, and I can't simply sign a piece of paper saying he's dead. He'll come back, Lieutenant, I know he will, just give it a few more days," he said.

"Sir, this isn't healthy. There is no way he could have possibly survived this long in that condition. You saw his coat, and the labs proved it was his. You just need to accept it," she told him sadly.

Mustang sighed then pulled the report closer, lifting his pen. He had no sooner put his pen to the paper when the sound of a slamming door, followed by the sound of uneven steps, one wet and somewhat squeaky on the polished floor, the other metallic. A bout of coughing was heard, then a sneeze soon after.

Mustang looked curiously up at his closed door. He frowned as the door opened slowly and in walked FullMetal. Bleeding and half drowned, absolutely exhausted and looking like he was about to pass out at any moment. His black clothes were torn and wires were sticking out from his automail forearm and his hair was tangled and loose, and streaked with an off red of dried blood. His left boot was missing which explained the uneven steps, but he was, most definitely, alive.

"Is that...?" Hawkeye said quietly, as though the boy were an illusion that she would shatter if she were to speak too loudly.

"M'back..." Edward said quietly, shutting the door behind him and leaning heavily against it, shivering violently as another bout of coughing tore through him.

"Full..." Mustang began, but Edward looked up at him, his eyes seemed to be pleading.

'Please don't,' he seemed to be saying, 'don't call me that, not now...'

"What the-?" someone from the other side of the door said and a loud thump could be heard, "why is there water on the floor?" the annoyed voice of Havoc asked to no one in particular.

Hawkeye walked slowly over to the young alchemist and helped him over to the couch before stepping out of the room, "get Hughes here," she told Havoc, "Sheska as well please. Move!" she ordered before leaving the room herself.

Edward sat on the couch shivering violently as he looked listlessly at the coffee table in front of him, arms wrapped around his middle. Neither alchemist said anything for a while and the only sound that could be heard was Edwards panting breaths and sniffling. Occasionally he'd shift slightly and a small, pained sound would escape him.

A few minutes later, Hughes, Sheska, and Havoc walked into the room, followed by Hawkeye who had a steaming coffee pot of what smelled like hot chocolate and a coffee cup, as well as a couple of warm blankets in her hands. The former three gasped as the spotted the injured alchemist sitting there and Edward looked up wearily, giving them a shaky smile. "Hey," he said, trying to sound less tired and sick then he felt, "long time no see eh?"

"Ed...Wh-where the hell have ya been, kiddo?" Hughes asked, taking one of the blankets from Hawkeye and wrapping it around the young boy who gratefully held onto the warm fabric, his shivering picking up as the contrast of heat and cold made itself known.

"Around..." Edward stuttered, "th-thanks," he said gratefully to Hawkeye who handed him a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Sniffing a few times followed by a sneeze.

"Sounds like you've caught a cold, Edward," Sheska said observantly.

"Heh, I'm f-fine, ju-just t-tired..." he said with a weak grin.

"Sheska, you've surely read medical books haven't you?" Hawkeye asked, "there's a first aid kit by Falman's desk, see what you can do to help him."

At this point Edward looked over at the stunned Colonel, "s-so you planning on s-signin' that th-thing or what?" he asked, nodding to the paper.

Mustang lowered his pen and stood up, walking over to the young alchemist and pushing the boys blond bangs away from his face and taking an alcohol-damp rag, started cleaning a particularly nasty looking cut on his forehead.

Edward pulled back, pushing the mans hand away with a trembling hand, "what the hell are you doing?" he asked.

"What does it look like, Edward?" Mustang asked quietly, "now stay still so that we can clean you up."

Edwards expression grew surprised and then he leaned forward sightly to put the coffee cup on the table before leaning back with a tired nod, shutting his eyes lightly while Mustang and Sheska cleaned his wounds. Occasionally he would say he didn't need any help but his heart didn't really seem to be in it.

"So where have you been, Ed?" Hughes asked again, sitting on the arm of the couch, "we looked for you everywhere, but couldn't find you."

"To tell you the truth, I'm not real sure myself," Edward said, opening his right eye just a crack so he could see Hughes from the corner of his eye, "s'all kinda fuzzy..." he muttered lethargically, "how long?" he let his eye drift closed again.

"About three months. All the evidence pointed to your death, and they called off the search about a month after you disappeared," Hughes replied. Edward shifted slightly and a dark red stain on the pristine white blanket caught his eye, "your side, what happened?" he asked.

Everyone froze and Edward opened his eyes and looked at his side, drawing his left hand out from the blankets and away from his face. He stared at the dark blood staining his fingers for a moment with a sick sort of fascination before letting his hand drop into his lap, "shit..." he moaned, "I thought I managed to stop that..."

Mustang quickly took the blanket away and lifted the boys shirt to reveal a nasty looking gash in his side, "dammit kid!" he swore, "how long has this been bleeding?"

"Dunno..." Edward shut his eyes again and leaned his head back on the couch, "its fine..." he muttered, "just a scratch..."

"Edward, that is the worst lie I have ever heard, now-" Mustang looked at the boys pale face and reached up to hit the side of his head, "do not fall asleep on me, got it?" he ordered.

Edward sat up straighter, "ass..." he muttered but forced himself to stay awake as they cleaned and wrapped the wound.

"You realize you're going to be hospitalized for this, don't you, Edward?" Hughes told him.

"Then why did you even bother?" Edward asked, "it woulda been simpler to just leave it alone..." he sneezed twice.

"Bless you, and we figured it would be easier to deal with it here then to take you down to the hospital where word around town is you're dead," Mustang said.

"Heh, guess..." Edward said with a small chuckle. He was silent for a few more minutes and the others left, leaving Mustang, Edward, and Hughes alone in the room. Mustang finished bandaging up Edwards side before standing up.

"Alright, now that you won't be bleeding all over my car we can-" he stood up and stretched, looking at the blond boy who was moving into a more comfortable position, "what the hell are you doing?" he asked.

"Lying down..." Edward muttered, closing his eyes, "I'm not going to no hospital..." he sneezed again.

"Ed-" Hughes began.

"Please." Edward pleaded, "just let me stay here..." he began to drift off further.

"Why? Why do you want to stay here?" Mustang asked, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand as he tried to figure the kids logic.

"Feel safe..." came the soft whisper, and then Edward said no more.

Mustang looked over incredulously at the boy and blinked at him as if he couldn't believe what he had just said. He stayed that way for a few minutes until Hughes stood up and knelt in front of the boy to pick him up, "no," he said automatically, "leave him."

"Huh?" Hughes looked at his friend, confusion on his face.

"You heard him, he feels safe here. If we take him to a hospital he might run off, and then he could end up even worse off." he tried to justify.

Hughes sighed, "Roy, you and I both know that he needs medical attention. He could open that wound again and bleed out, at least at a hospital he can get the help he needs and-"

"I'll make sure he doesn't bleed out, you should call Resembool and tell his brother that the kid has finally shown up," Mustang told him, "he's home now, and I have intention of letting him leave until he has completely recovered." Mustang said.

"Heheheh, right, I'll go call his brother now. Take care of him, Roy. He trusts you more then you might realize you know." Maes turned and left the room and Mustang rolled his eyes at his friend, staring out the window at the darkening sky before glancing back at the sleeping teen. The boy was shivering again and Mustang rolled his eyes and walked over, covering him up with the clean blanket and brushing the boys hair from his face, only to be met by pools of molten gold staring at him tiredly.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Mustang asked.

Edward blinked, and shook his head, "thank you..." he whispered.

"What for?" Mustang asked, thoroughly confused.

"For letting me stay here, just for a while..." Edward said, shutting his eyes again.

Mustang smiled, "thank you, for coming back," he said softly before getting up and walking to his desk. He picked up the report he had been about to sign and tore it into pieces and threw the pieces into the trash with a smile.

"You said my name..." came the sleepy voice and Mustang looked up at the young alchemist who was looking at the coffee cup that was still sitting on the table.

"Huh?" was Mustangs intelligent reply.

"You've never done that before...I was actually starting to wonder if you even knew my-" Edward broke off and sneezed twice, "name..." he said.

"Bless you." Mustang replied automatically.

"Yet you s-said it earlier. T-twice." Edward continued, he sat up weakly and looked at Mustang, "why?"

Mustang stopped and looked at his youngest subordinate, "would you rather I had called you FullMetal?" he asked.

Edward shook his head, "no, it just...It was different, strange...You've never done that before..." he shook it off, "never mind, I'm over thinking things," he muttered. He coughed again and then looked around the room slowly, eyes taking it all in, the familiarity of it all. A small smile appeared on his tired face, "home...You had said I was home..." he slurred.

Mustang had no reply to that, but he noticed that the blond had become considerably paler then before so walked to his side. He sat on the couch next to the boy and felt his forehead, but no sooner had his hand touched the boys head, said boy passed out on his lap.

"Ed!" Mustang exclaimed, then he saw the small smile gracing the blonds gentle features, and felt one cross his own, "welcome home, Ed." he whispered, "welcome home."

Fini!

So? Was it alright? Please let me know what you think and as things sit right now it is a one-shot but I might write a part two, I dunno. Anyway, hope y'all have a good night :D