Edward Elric had had enough of this day.

His bangs were slicked down against his forehead in the misty rain, and the heaviness in the air seemed to take fester in the hollows of where his arm and leg used to be. He loathed the fact that he was forced to leave the safe, warm confines of his bed this morning, all thanks to a certain black-haired bastard Colonel. Why the colonel needed his stupid report today of all days, he didn't know, but he sure was going to let him know how unhappy he was about it. He pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders. Although the day was rather mild and warm, he couldn't help the chill he felt deep in his bones. His flesh hand made it's way to his sore shoulder port, in a measly attempt to massage away the heavy ache. He made a conscious effort to push through the pain he felt in his leg, no matter how bad, because the Fullmetal Alchemist could hardly be seen in public with a limp. He had a hard enough time getting respect as it is, being only 12. All of the higher-ups either coddled him like a child, or thought he was an insolent brat. Truthfully, his reputation among the military officers made no difference to him, after all, the only reason he enlisted was to get Al's body back, but damn it all to hell if it didn't piss him off to be brushed to the side like a helpless child. He already had enough problems, the last thing he needed was to be seen not only as a child, but as a cripple. He shuddered at the thought.

At least one thing that had gone well for him this morning was that Al had agreed to stay behind at the dorms. He had managed to convince him to stay, only because Winry was visiting and he wanted to catch up. Ed was relieved to be able to get out of his brother's sight, because if all knew of the pain he was in, he would be wrapped up in bed with a couple of hot water bottles and a bowl of soup. He bathed in the mental image. He swore for a moment, he could feel the heat seeping through his pain-riddled body. The moment didn't last long, however, and he was brought back to his harsh reality. He stood outside of Central Command, thinking of how bad the consequences could possibly be for blowing off his meeting with Mustang, but ultimately decided that since he was already here, he might as well get it over with.

He kept his head down as he navigated through the crowds of blue, following the familiar corridors leading to Colonel Mustang's office. He put all of his energy into looking the least bit suspicious possible, forcing his leg to match the movements of the other and gritting his teeth through the pain. Before long, he stood outside the mahogany doors, laced with dents and scratches courtesy of his automail foot. He smirked at the sight. In order to follow tradition and to keep up his act, he took a deep breath before delivering a swift kick to the door, albeit much gentler than usual. He immediately regretted the action as spikes of white-hot pain shot through the port. He ground his teeth tighter and stifled a grunt before walking into the office. He was met with all of the faces of his coworkers, all either hard at work or at least pretending to be. "Hey Chief!" Called Havoc from behind his desk. "Still raining out there, huh?" He lifted his gaze to Havoc's, being met with a sympathetic smile.

"Just a tad." He muttered under his breath, before clapping his hands together. Upon hearing the familiar hum of alchemy, he touched his hands to his soggy clothes, dispersing the water into the air around them. Although the feeling of dry clothing was much better, it did nothing to rid himself of the cold he felt deep within himself. He looked back up at the room. "Is the Colonel in?" First lieutenant Hawkeye was the first to answer as always.

"Yes, Edward. He's expecting you. I'll let him know you're here." She smiled before turning on her heel and ducking into the next room. As he waited, he fought the urge to rub furiously at the port on his leg, but he couldn't stop himself from subconsciously raising a hand to wrap it's warmth around his shoulder. He let his eyes fall shut as he struggled to keep up his front. In his pain, he had momentarily forgotten where he was, until being brought back by a concerned voice.

"Something wrong with your shoulder there, Chief?" Asked Havoc. Ed jerked himself back into reality and turned sharply to look into the man's worried eyes. He felt dread pool in his stomach as he stumbled to find an excuse. Mustang and Hawkeye were the only ones who knew about Edward's automail, and he intended to keep it that way for as long as possible, at least until he could build up some respect from his teammates. He didn't want to be seen as a weak link, even if it meant a little bit of fibbing for the time being. He quickly dropped his hand back to his side.

"Oh- uh, no. I uh, I just had a- um, an itch! My shoulder was itchy!" He chuckled weakly, hoping they would buy the excuse. Havoc looked unconvinced, but decided to let it go.

"Okay, if you say so..." He said warily. Ed let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He grasped onto the fact that as soon as he was done here, he could curl up in bed and bug Winry for some of those fancy painkillers she always carried. He smiled at the thought.

"The colonel will see you now, Edward." Stated the professional as always Hawkeye. She met Edward's eyes and squinted as she looked him up and down. "Say, Edward, are you feeling alright? You look a little pale." Before he could protest, he was met with a gentle palm to the forehead. For a split second he wanted to lean into the comfort, then quickly jerked back, stumbling over his feet and his aching leg. The lieutenant's eyes widened slightly in concern. "You're burning up, Edward." Was he? He felt so cold, how could he possibly have a fever? Realizing the gravity of the situation, Ed desperately tried to salvage his quickly faltering muse. Panic began to set in.

"Oh, I really feel fine! It's nothing! I'm completely fine!" He stuttered out, hiding behind a smile. With a quick glance around the room, he realized all eyes were on him now, all looking concerned for their youngest colleague. Ed began to feel cornered as he struggled to find a way out of his situation. Despite how cold he felt, he could feel sweat balling and rolling down his face. He took a few quick steps back, but upon setting his foot down, a sharp, agonizing pain shot up through his femur and spread through the muscles and tissues until he could no longer take it. He succumbed to the pain and fell to the ground. Hard. A small whimper made it's way through his lips despite his attempts to keep it in. The pain would not let up, as he wrapped both his metal and flesh arms around the stump. He screwed his eyes shut and let out quick breaths through his teeth. So much for hiding it, he thought.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and held back the pained tears that threatened to fall from behind his tightly shut eyelids. He could barely register muffled voices around him as he began to remember what had happened. He had fallen, in the colonel's office, in front of everybody. He felt a slight flush creep over his cheeks in embarrassment. Mustang would never let him live this down. Slowly, he cracked open an eye to see the worried faces of everyone crouched around him, running their eyes over him as if looking for injuries.

"Edward, are you alright? Can you hear me?" Called Hawkeye's stern but gentle voice. He opened his other eye and looked into hers. He took a breath and cleared his throat.

"...Sorry, I-I'm alright. Just give me a second." He spoke between pants. The looks his coworkers were giving him told him that they were not convinced, but he couldn't find it in him to care over the searing pain that had now spread to his shoulder. He lifted his flesh hand from his leg and brought it to his shoulder instead. He let out a shaky breath and let his eyes slip closed again. He distantly heard a door close before he heard a familiar deep voice resonating through the room.

"What's wrong I heard a-" He looked down at an agony-riddled Edward curled tightly in a ball on the floor. "What happened? Is he hurt?" Questioned the Colonel as he slid to his knees in front of Ed. "Fullmetal- hey- look at me. Are you hurt? Do I need to call a medic?" As Ed processed his words, he was baffled to hear concern in the man's voice, but immediately pushed it out of his mind at the mention of a medic. His eyes shot open in panic.

"No! No I'm fine! I don't need a medic! Just- Just help me up." Edward stuttered out. The pain in his ports had faded to a point where he believed he could gingerly stand but walking anywhere was out of the question. Mustang looked at him doubtfully before holding his right hand out to Ed. Ed stared at the offered appendage for a few seconds. It was Mustang's right hand, held out to Ed's right hand. The problem with that was that his right shoulder throbbed in pain, and he was confident that if he were to pull himself up using it, he would be reduced to screaming, and that would do little to prove his point that he was okay. Cursing inwardly, Ed slipped his left hand off of his shoulder and offered it to Mustang. Understanding flashed in the Colonel's eyes. He switched his hands and hoisted Ed up, and watched as Ed put nearly all of his weight on his right leg.

"It's the automail, isn't it?" An overwhelming sense of anxiety and defeat washed over his battered body. He had lost. He had been figured out. The team would surely never trust or respect him now that they knew the truth. Now that they knew he was a cripple. He glared at Mustang dead in the eyes, sending him a look of betrayal. The Colonel just smiled lightly at him; their hands still intertwined. Ed would have let go long ago, had it not been for the fear that he may very well fall over again if did.

"Automail?" Gasped Havoc. "Chief, you never told us you had automail?" Ed shifted uncomfortably under the stares. He found himself at a loss for words. He just stood there, holding Mustang's hand like a child, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of what to say.

"It never came up." He decided on at last. He hopped slightly as he tried to keep his balance on his flesh foot, his automail held just barely above the ground. Sighing, Mustang broke the tense silence.

"Come on, Fullmetal. Sit down before you fall down, would you?" He gently pulled Ed's hand as they stumbled together towards the couch. Keeping his sore leg straight, he gingerly sat down with a wince. Upon finally finding himself able to breathe a bit better, he looked up at all of the faces surrounding him, dreading the way that they would look at him. Pity, sympathy, perhaps disgust. It wasn't all that uncommon for someone to find something mean to say about Edward's missing limbs after all. So he kept it hidden. He wore long sleeves and pants even in the unforgiving heat of summer, he wore gloves to cover his mismatched hands, and he made sure to never, ever show any weakness. It was safer that way. That way, he didn't have to see the look in their eyes. It made him feel so small, though he loathed to admit it. However, when he looked into the faces of the team, he didn't see any of what he feared. He saw understanding, and ultimately, just concern. Even though he hated to worry them, he couldn't blame them. He probably looked like hell. Hoping to change the topic and get away from the concerned eyes, he cleared his throat and reached into his jacket, pulling out a manila folder.

"Uh, here." He muttered, holding it out to the Colonel. "My report." Mustang just looked at him, dumbfounded.

"Fullmetal, you just collapsed on my floor, and you think I'm worried about the report?" Mustang looked down at him, worry evident in his stare. Edward sank into himself slightly, uncomfortable. Everyone's eyes were still on him, and he wanted nothing more than to shrink into himself and disappear. The colonel sighed through his nose and took the report from Ed's outstretched hand, then turned to place it on his desk. Edward was relieved, hoping that Mustang had realized he was fine and they could continue on like normal. However, his relief was short-lived as he felt a phone receiver shoved into his hand. He looked over at the Colonel in confusion. "Call your brother, tell him what's going on, and have him bring down your mechanic friend to have a look at you. I know she arrived yesterday so don't try to weasel your way out of this. Edward just stared at the Colonel, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"That is really not necessary, I'm fi-" He started.

"Fullmetal, if you say you're fine I will torch you." Mustang interrupted; fingers poised to snap.

"Seriously though do not involve Winry! She'll hit me with a wrench! Or cry! Or hit me with a wrench and then cry!" Ed protested. He hated worrying Winry, and he hated a wrench to the temple just as much, but when he looked around the room, seeing all of their faces flaring at him, urging him on, he knew there was no way out of this. Sighing, he muttered a few choice words under his breath as he dialed the number to his dorm. Hawkeye and Mustang both stood silently, as Havoc and Breda had made their way to sit on the couch across from him, still watching him warily. Falman and Fuery both stood behind Havoc and Breda, and all of them were looking at him.

"Hello, you've reached the Elrics, Winry speaking." Edward really hated his life in that moment. He was praying Alphonse would pick up and maybe he would be able to find a way to keep Winry out of this, alas, Truth hated his guts. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he spoke up.

"H-hi um- Winry." He stuttered nervously.

"Oh, Ed. I thought you were at the office?" She asked, a slight hint of concern creeping into her voice. Ed swallowed again.

"Oh, well, I am- I just- I uh, I wanted to uh- say hi." Edward winced at his own lie. He didn't have it in him to tell Winry the truth. Before he could hear her response, he felt the phone being ripped out of his hand and over his head.

"Miss Rockbell, this is Colonel Mustang. How are you?" Ed had never wanted to be somewhere else more in his life. He would rather be at the bottom of a dumpster right now, so long as he was alone. He had the colonel talking to his childhood friend like a teacher talking to a child's parent after they had gotten themselves into trouble. Ed groaned in defeat and let his head hit the back of the couch. "Yes, I'm afraid Ed is having trouble with his automail, I was wondering if you'd be able to pay us a visit to check him over?" He paused, waiting for her response. "Of course, see you then, thank you Miss Rockbell. Goodbye." Mustang then promptly hung up the phone and turned to the group of people anxiously waiting for the result of the phone call, especially Ed. "She said she'll be here in twenty minutes. She also said something about a wrench with your name on it, Fullmetal." Edward visibly cringed at the thought of the wrath of Winry's tools.