Authors Note: Also being published in multiple parts for length. Look for 3 chapters. Enjoy!

February 19th, 1951

Winry was glad to be done with work for the day. It had been an exhausting one; all morning in auto-mail surgeries at the hospital, and all afternoon in the shop talking with clients and distributors as well as working on actual auto-mail. Exciting, but hectic! "Sorry I'm late!" she called out as she hung up her jacket and came into the living room. Edward sat at the table, books and notes out, unsurprisingly, though he sort of seemed to be staring at them, not really reading or writing. "Ed?"

Ed looked up then and smiled. "Oh, hey Winry. Sorry, I didn't hear you come in." He paused then, coughing.

Oh really? Winry gave him an odd look. "Are you all right?"

"What, oh sure," Ed chuckled, shrugging. "I was just distracted. I've almost got this finished."

Winry wasn't convinced. He looked tired and a little flushed. Nope, she definitely wasn't buying it. Without a word she crossed to him and bent over, placing her lips on his forehead – more accurate than using her hand. Yes, just as she'd suspected. "How long have you been sick?" she asked.

Ed gave her a slightly confused look. "I feel all right," he countered, coughing again.

"Well your body doesn't seem to agree," Winry shook her head. "So you'll forgive me if I don't believe you."

"It's just a cough," Ed countered then, frowning briefly. "It's no big deal."

"You have a fever," Winry pointed out, "and you look exhausted. I think you should go to bed."

"Well I don't feel like it." Great, Ed was going to be argumentative. "I'm not tired enough to sleep."

Winry glared at him. "You should lie down, even if you don't sleep. You're sick and you need to rest. Now go upstairs and take your temperature and lie down. I'll be up in a couple of minutes so don't dawdle. I'll see about getting dinner started."

"Fine, if it'll get you off my back," Ed sighed and stood, picking up his books and notes. "But I'll be bored stiff just sitting up there."

At least he was listening. "Good," Winry nodded satisfactorily. Really though, she was worried about him. He'd always been a lousy patient, and the last one to want to sit still and rest properly when he was sick or injured.

Winry did as she had said and got dinner started. Fortunately it only took a few minutes since she had done prep-work that morning. As soon as it was in the oven, she went upstairs.

Ed was sitting on the bed, thermometer under his tongue, completely lost in the notes in his hands. She noticed they were beginning to shake a little.

Winry shook her head. "It should be done by now," she said, reaching out and pulling the thermometer out of his mouth before Ed could object. She winced when she saw the numbers. "Well that does it."

Ed frowned. "I'm telling you, I don't feel that hot. If anything, I feel a little chilly."

"Says the man with a temperature of one-hundred-and-two," Winry handed the thermometer over to him then. Ed took it, coughed, and looked down, his eyes opening a little wider. He couldn't argue with that after all, Winry thought with some satisfaction. "I'm going to call the doctor and see what he thinks," Winry took the thermometer back. "You rest. I'll bring dinner up when it's ready."

Ed looked like he was going to argue anyway, but then he sighed and nodded, setting his notes down on the bedside table. "If you insist."

"I do." Winry let him be then and went back downstairs and called the hospital. Fortunately Stevenson was available. As soon as he heard the symptoms, she could almost hear him nodding on the other side of the phone. He was almost certain it was pneumonia. Apparently he had seen several cases in the past few days coming from headquarters. Ed should rest and they should get his fever down quickly, plenty of fluids, the usual. He also suggested a couple of herbal teas that should help with his coughing. "Thank you, doctor."

Winry checked on dinner and put water on for tea. Then she pulled out a bowl and a cloth, filled the bowl with chilled water, and went upstairs to check on Ed again. When she got there, she found that he had kicked off his shoes and lay down, but he was already unconscious, fast asleep on the bed still mostly clothed. It wasn't restful sleep though. He was shaking more now, and still coughing. "Well that didn't take long," Winry sighed, setting the bowl down. She felt his face and cringed at the heat. Gently she unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, then did the same with Ed's pants and socks, leaving him in just his shorts. It was a testament to how tired he really had been –despite his objections- that Ed didn't wake up, though he moaned softly a couple of times.

As soon as Winry had him tucked more properly in bed under just the sheet and one blanket, she gently wiped down his face and neck with the cold damp cloth. She refilled it and left it on his forehead when she had to go down to check on dinner again.

Ethan came in the house as she came down the stairs. "Hey, Mom," he grinned, though his smile faded a little when he saw her expression. "Something wrong?"

"Your father's sick," Winry replied. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah, sure," Ethan shrugged. "I just went for a three mile run and feel great if that makes you feel any better. What's he got?"

Winry sighed. "The doctor thinks its pneumonia."

Ethan winced. "Yeah, that's going around. They've had a bunch of folks come in to the hospital in the last couple of days; mostly folks from Central Headquarters. How bad is he?"

"Chills, coughing, hundred-and-two fever," Winry replied. "He's asleep now. Could you keep an eye on him while I finish making dinner? We need to bring the fever down."

"Of course," Ethan nodded and headed right upstairs.

Winry was glad her son was as stable as he was. He accepted situations and acted, and she knew he knew how to take care of Ed without her having to say a word thanks to his training. She relaxed and finished the roast and vegetables, though she knew she would probably need to make something a little easier to get into Ed. She also filled a pitcher of iced water and a glass to keep up by his bedside.

February 20th, 1951

It turned out to be a long night. Winry and Ethan ate dinner but it was all she or Ethan could do to get Ed to drink any water over the course of the evening. He was never fully conscious, despite sleeping fitfully. Winry cleaned up after dinner then relieved Ethan for the evening, prepared for a long night of taking care of Ed. She did her best to keep him comfortable, cooling his skin, but not letting him get chilled, and giving him drinks of water whenever he came to enough for her to coax some into him.

When he was quiet Winry cat napped, but when he had fever dreams or was uncomfortable, sleep was almost impossible. Ed fidgeted and rolled and mumbled. When it got bad once or twice he cried out, flailing, and Winry suspected they were old nightmares. Some of them very old, judging from what Ed said because, unsurprisingly, Ed said a lot of things in his sleep.

The first time he cried out and whimpered, pleaded for mercy, and Winry gathered it was about the Xing War from what he said, though she knew he had never begged or broken. At one point he cried out for his mother, apologizing in the same way Winry remembered him doing after the failed transmutation when he was a boy. When that happened, she cooled his face again; wiping it gently with the cold wet cloth, and began to sing softly the old lullabies both of their mothers had known.

That worked amazingly fast. Almost as soon as Winry started singing, Ed quieted and his sleep was more restful. Her gentle touches seemed to help as well. He drifted then, sometimes mumbling about alchemy, or the kids. Winry heard her own name a couple of times and random alchemical recitations. If it didn't make it impossible to sleep almost, she would have found it more amusing!

"Unnngh….Don't touch…" Ed murmured at one point, and Winry thought he might be waking up, but he smiled a little and settled down again. "…thanks Mei, that's nice….."

May? May what? Or was it a who? Winry didn't really understand a lot of what Ed said, but it sounded like a name. She made a point to remember to ask him about it later and promptly forgot about it when she went downstairs to get herself a cup of coffee and get fresh cool water. When she got back, Ed was disturbed again and it took some time to calm him down and cool him off. It wasn't pleasant. Of course, Winry had sat up many nights with the kids over the years and Ed even more, so she didn't mind. She wouldn't have been able to sleep until she knew he was all right anyway.

It was nearly morning before his fever dropped. It didn't fully break, but by dawn it was down to one-hundred even and Ed was sleeping more deeply. Yawning, Winry finally left him again for a bit, the cloth folded on his forehead. She went downstairs to see about finding some breakfast and another cup of coffee.

To her pleasant surprise Ethan was awake and in the kitchen, making breakfast. Winry smelled bacon, eggs, and hot coffee. "I knew there was actually a reason to have children," she teased.

Ethan glanced over his shoulder briefly and smiled. "You didn't think I expected you to make breakfast after being up all night did you?"

"I didn't keep you up did I, or your father?" Winry asked.

"Nah," Ethan shook his head and turned back to the bacon. "You never get a lot of sleep when you have a patient to tend," he chuckled. "How's Dad?"

"Finally getting some real sleep," Winry sighed, pouring coffee into her favorite mug. "The fever's down but it hasn't broken. It looks like I'll be spending the whole weekend playing nursemaid." Not that she was complaining but she was going to have to call and cancel some plans.

"I'll help," Ethan promised as he slid the bacon onto a plate. The eggs were already finished. "Dad's not exactly an easy patient right?"

"Never," Winry smiled. "And you've been a big help already, last night, and this," she gestured at the food. "Don't you have plans for today?"

"Just the usual," Ethan shrugged. "Sara and I are supposed to get a little practice in later; before the mission she said she's got scheduled for next week for both of us," he explained as he served up two plates. Winry took hers and they both sat down at the dining table.

"Running off again so soon?" Winry smiled, picking up her fork and taking a bite. "You haven't even been home for two months."

"It won't be a long one," Ethan said, digging into his food. "Sara said it should only be a few days and it's not until the end of the month. It's a village who lost their local doctor, so we're escorting a doctor up there to help cause they've had some bad colds this winter."

"Well that sounds safe enough," Winry agreed. Certainly safer than Xing assassins! "For something like that, I take it Stevenson doesn't mind."

"Nope," Ethan shook his head. "Though he told me I'd better make sure I don't drop studies on anything that I'll need to pass to get into University in a few years." Ethan had been studying mostly on his own. Though because he wanted to attend University to go to a proper medical school, he had to finish school. Studying on his own, he had already well surpassed his year-mates, and simply took tests over at the school to prove he had learned the information.

"And how is that going?" Winry asked. Keeping up with her youngest son was difficult some days. At least Ed always knew what Sara was up to, and Aldon called regularly from Resembool. Ethan really never seemed to sit still anymore; at the hospital working, in the auto-mail workshop, in their alchemy workroom at home, or out on missions with Sara. Then there had been this Xing trip. She wondered when Ethan found the time to study traditional subjects.

"Top marks on the last set of tests," Ethan replied with his mouth full. Those had been just after he got back. "At this rate, I should have all the secondary work finished by next year. Then I can focus that time more on auto-mail and at the hospital."

"What about free time?" Winry asked, partially teasing.

"I'll have that after I finish medical school," Ethan laughed. "Don't worry, Mom. I can handle it."

Winry had just opened her mouth to respond to that when the phone rang. Sighing, she stood and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hi, Winry. It's Elicia," she heard her friend on the other end of the line.

"Hi," Winry replied. "I'm glad you called. I was going to call you and tell you I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel on you and the girls this afternoon. Ed's got pneumonia and I really shouldn't leave him when he's sick. You now how he is."

"Edward too?" Elicia asked. "Al came home sick last night. I was calling to tell you that I'm going to have to cancel! Oh and Riza called me earlier. Apparently Roy's sick too."

"I guess we'll all be rescheduling lunch out," Winry chuckled softly. "How's Al?"

"Asleep," Elicia replied. "He came home last night and put himself to bed. He had a low temperature last night, but it broke this morning."

"Well that's good. I had to make Ed go to bed and he's still feverish," Winry said.

"I suspect as soon as he starts feeling better keeping him in bed will be a trick." Ed was, without a doubt her worst patient ever when it came to patience. Of course he always had been.

After a couple of minutes of general chatting, Winry hung up the phone and went back upstairs to check on Ed again and get dressed.

It was almost lunch time before Ed actually woke up. Or at least that was his guess based on the angle of the sunlight coming in the windows. He certainly didn't feel well rested though. Last night was a jumble of blurred dreams and discomfort that he couldn't really remember in detail. His hair was damp, and the sheets the same from sweat, but he still felt hot, achy, and tired; his throat and chest sore from coughing.

If he hadn't needed to use the bathroom badly, Ed would not have considered getting up. As it was he barely made it to his feet. After a moment though, he steadied himself.

"Where do you think you're going?" Winry's stern voice got his attention. She was standing in the doorway.

"The bathroom," Ed replied curtly, covering his mouth as he coughed.

Winry's expression softened only slightly as she came into the room. "Well you'd better be right back in bed afterwards," she replied crossly.

With his head swimming like it was, Ed wasn't about to argue. "I will, if you get out of the way," he snapped more forcefully than he meant to.

"Grouch." Winry got out of the way though.

Ed made his way into the bathroom. It took longer than usual both directions, though he felt a bit better going back. It was mildly embarrassing to realize that in the time it had taken him to go to the bathroom, Winry had completely changed the bed sheets. "Thanks," he replied as he sat back down on the bed. The fresh crisp linens felt good against his skin.

"You're welcome," Winry replied. "How do you feel?"

"Lousy," Ed admitted with a shrug. "I didn't realize I was that wiped yesterday."

"Obviously," Winry shook her head, but her anger seemed to have passed. "Stevenson said there's pneumonia going around. Alphonse and Roy are both sick too."

"I heard that was going around," Ed sighed, lying back on the bed without further protest. It hurt less that way, though it did little to help with the coughing. He could just hear Stevenson's instructions in his head. "You're not going to let me up again soon are you?"

"Not a chance," Winry shook her head, smiling gently. "You should drink," she offered him a glass of water. "I've got water for tea going downstairs. It should help the cough, and there's food if you want it."

Ed knew he was sick when food didn't immediately sound appealing. Water did though and he drained the glass in short order. He emptied a second one almost as quickly when Winry refilled it. He was thirsty! Winry looked satisfied when he sipped at the third, the worst of his thirst finally slaked. At that point, something light to eat sounded pretty good. "What's for lunch?" he asked.

"We've got a chunky vegetable and beef soup and garlic toast," Winry replied as if offering the menu. "If you don't like that, I can regulate you to chicken broth and bread."

Ed stuck his tongue out at her. "Lunch sounds fine to me the way it is!"

"I thought as much," Winry chuckled, leaning over and kissing his forehead before vanishing back downstairs.

While she was gone, Ed checked his temperature, more out of curiosity than anything else: one-hundred-point-two. No, there was no way Winry was going to let him up for a while. Not that he felt much like doing anything other than eating lunch and going back to sleep. As it was he almost dozed off before Winry got back upstairs with lunch.

February 24th, 1951

It was Sunday afternoon before Ed's fever really broke and by then he was bored and irritable. Still, Winry wouldn't let him up. While he didn't like to admit it, Ed only complained and protested out of habit. He didn't have the energy to get up and do anything productive. Most of the time he slept and tried not to cough too hard. Monday was more of the same, though Ed spent more time awake and did a little reading. He tried to sneak downstairs at one point, but Winry had caught him in the hallway and ordered him back to bed. Ed's attempt to argue that he was doing better was undercut by a nasty coughing fit the moment he tried to shout. Winry helped him back upstairs. Much to Ed's embarrassment, the assistance was necessary.

Tuesday was a marked improvement. Ed came downstairs in the afternoon and rested and read on the couch, just glad to be out of the bedroom. When Ethan got home they played a couple of games of chess before dinner. Ed won both, but Ethan was a pretty decent player, so the games were interesting and fairly close.

So on Wednesday morning Ed got up feeling tired, but a good deal better. He took a shower, and was mostly dressed for work when Winry came in to check on him. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked, catching him in the middle of tying his shoes.

"Headquarters," Ed replied with a shrug. He wasn't going to get defensive or get into a fight over this. He wasn't in the mood. He sat up and reached back to braid his hair.

"You've been in bed for four days and you think I'm going to let you out of the house?" Winry asked, her arms crossed under her breasts.

Ed stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. "It's almost the end of classes for this run, and I'm two days behind already," he explained calmly. "All I'm going to do is sit at my desk and slog through paperwork and check in with a couple of people. I probably won't even stay all day." He just really didn't want to face even more work when he got back! "Besides," he grinned. "Any good officer knows how to nap in his desk chair."

"No sparring," Winry looked up at him warily.

"No sparring," Ed chuckled and dared to kissed her forehead. "I promise. As soon as I get tired, I'll be home. You think I want to be stuck in bed again?"

"Well, no," Winry relented. "I guess I'll see you later. It would be nice to get back into the workshop," she smirked up at him. "I'd hate to think they could really run everything without me."

"Never," Ed put his hands down. "I should get going."

Winry kissed him briefly. "Love you."

"Love you too." Ed kissed her back before heading downstairs, grabbing his coat off the rack, and driving over to HQ. He hated to think how badly the paperwork had piled up on his desk the last couple of days. And with Al out sick too, there was no way it had all gotten covered. Al would have his own catching up to do. Ed really wasn't sure he wanted to know how much backed up on Roy's desk when the man was out sick. He was bad enough about doing it to begin with!

The stack turned out to be only mildly frightening. Ed prioritized, figuring out what could be handed down to a lower officer – though there was little enough of that – and then made stacks of things that needed to be handled immediately, and what could be done later, or not at HQ. He had not promised Winry he might not bring some of it home. Once he had a sizeable stack of items that specifically needed to be taken up to the President's office for signatures, he headed out of the office and upstairs.

He ran into Alphonse half way there. "I see Elicia let you out of prison too," Ed chuckled.

Al looked up from the paperwork in his hands and laughed. "Not without a few dirty looks," he admitted. "Are you on your way up to Breda's office too?"

Ed nodded. "No rest for the weary!" he shrugged. "I didn't feel like getting any further behind."

"Me neither," Al nodded as he fell into step beside him and they headed upstairs together. "It was a pretty miserable weekend, though I think Elicia fussed more than she needed to," he admitted, grinning. "I felt almost normal yesterday."

"I still feel like I could sleep for a week, if I wouldn't get bored," Ed amended, smirking. "Just don't tell Winry!"

"Who me?" Al feigned innocence. "I'm not foolish enough to want to make her angry at either one of us."

Breda's office was in its usual state of chaos, if not more-so than usual.

"We keep having people out sick in different parts of almost every department," Feury explained with a shrug when they asked. "It's been pretty crazy all week so far, and last week too."

"So should we just get in line then?" Ed joked, holding up the sheaf of paperwork.

"I can handle those," Feury shook his head, taking both of their stacks. "I'll make sure they're back down on your desks by this afternoon."

"Thanks, Kain," Al smiled.

"No problem," Feury replied. "I think Breda will just be glad there's someone getting work done on the alchemist side of things."

"What, is Mustang still sloughing off on his paperwork?" Ed smirked.

"You haven't heard?" Feury looked startled, then concerned. "He got so bad that Riza took him to the hospital last night."

Ed winced, immediately regretting the comment. "I hadn't. What happened?"

Feury shook his head regretfully. "I didn't get a lot of details. But you know how stubborn he is. It would have to be pretty serious to get him to go in the first place."

"Winry and Elicia will probably both know by the time we get home," Al pointed out and he was right. They were two of the first people Riza would likely call when she did contact anyone outside of HQ.

Ed nodded. "There's no better information system than our wives," he admitted with a weak grin and a shrug. "I hope he's okay."

"Sympathy from you, Ed?" Feury asked, chuckling.

Ed shrugged. "Sure, but don't you ever tell him about it!" With that taken care of, he wasn't inclined to wait around all day. There was plenty of work on his desk though it was a rare occasion when he was glad not to have a class scheduled to teach today. That was a pretty good sign right there –aside from the occasionally coughing fit- that he wasn't entirely up to par yet. He and Al went back downstairs and worked till lunch, then ate together, and went back to paperwork. Ed suspected Al was probably completely caught up by the end of the day; he was just that organized. Still, Ed was feeling pretty satisfied by mid-afternoon, and decided to go home a couple of hours early instead of trying to push through the whole day.

Ed didn't even have the chance to ask Winry about Roy. When he got home, Riza was sitting at their dining table with Winry drinking a cup of coffee and looking very tired. "Hi," he looked between the two women. "How's Roy?"

"Not well," Riza replied in her usual no-nonsense manner, though Ed had known her long enough to tell she was being polite. He suspected the outpouring of worry was something he had already missed. As well as they got along, she was one of Winry's best friends, not his. But she was still wavering slightly, and he thought she had been crying fairly recently. "He'll live," she added.

"Well that's good," Ed replied. He had figured that much, or Riza would never have left Roy's bed side. "How are you?"

At his concern for her, Riza smiled very slightly. "I've been better, but thank you." She sighed. "His fever wouldn't break, and he could barely sleep for the coughing. When he started vomiting I insisted he go in."

So it was a bad case. Certainly a lot worse than he and Al had experienced. "Any idea how long he'll be in?"

Riza shook her head, staring down into her coffee. "He's been sick before. He's stubborn and stupid about it every time. This time, Roy didn't even argue with me. He couldn't."

"He'll be all right," Winry placed a hand on her friend's shoulder, speaking soothingly.

"I know," Riza sighed. "I should go back," she said then after a moment. "Maes is with him right now, but I already feel like I've been gone too long."

"Just make sure you get some rest," Winry replied firmly as Riza stood up.

"I will," Riza smiled weakly. "Thank you for the coffee, Winry. I'll see you both." She nodded to Ed, then stepped past him and headed for the door.

When she was gone, Ed turned back to Winry. "It's that bad, isn't it?" It wasn't really a question.

Winry nodded. "She said his fever was up around one-hundred-and-one all weekend. It dropped a little, but then it spiked. The shakes, the coughing, the muscle aches, all the usual symptoms, but it got a lot worse last night." She sighed and sat down again, sipping from her own cup. "Stevenson's very concerned."

Ed winced. When Stevenson said he was concerned that was what Ed translated as this is bad. He sat down at the table in the chair Riza had just vacated. "Riza doesn't look like she's slept since Friday."

"She almost hasn't," Winry replied frowning and clearly upset. "Though she said Maes was over for most of the weekend and in the evenings."

That was a relief in a lot of ways. "That's good at least." Ed knew far too well what it was like to deal with these kinds of situations. They were good at leaving someone an emotional wreck, and he took them seriously. "There are a lot of folks out sick at HQ, but as far as I've heard, he's the only one to be hospitalized for it."

"Hopefully he'll be the only one, and not for long," Winry nodded. "So," she looked up at him. "How was your day?"

"Refreshingly dull," Ed smiled, hoping to lighten the mood a little. "Lots of paperwork; almost nothing else. I brought some of it home in case I feel like being productive later, or sleeping in tomorrow." He shrugged. He had a heavier course-load to cover next week, which gave him time to take it a little easy.

"I'm glad to hear it," Winry sipped her coffee. "Elicia said Al went back to work today too. He sounds like he had a milder case even than you did."

"He looked it," Ed chuckled. "Sounded better too," he admitted as he coughed a couple of times. It was nothing compared to a few days ago, but he knew the cough usually lingered the longest.

March 1st, 1951

It was Monday of the next week before Roy Mustang's fever broke. By that point, Ed really had nothing but sympathy for the entire family. The mood around HQ was dampened and concerned; at least in Breda's office and those that dealt with Roy regularly. A large number of the officers struck down sick had returned to work and, while a few more were now out, it seemed to have run its course for the most part and moved on.

Stevenson still wanted to keep Roy for several days yet, and Ed could understand why. It had taken Roy a week to reach even that much improvement and he was reportedly sleeping most of the time. They were keeping him properly hydrated, though Riza admitted that at times they had sedated Roy heavily so that he could sleep through the worst of the coughing fits. She came over for dinner that night, and Ed got to listen while Riza gave Winry the full update. The shakes had passed with the fever at least it seemed, and he hadn't vomited after that first day in the hospital, but Roy was still achy, exhausted, and apparently in a very foul temper.

"Stevenson says he can have visitors in a couple of days, if anyone wants to brave his bad mood," Riza smirked tiredly.

"We'll definitely come by and see him," Winry assured her immediately.

Ed smiled. "Sure," he agreed. He was used to dealing with Roy in a bad mood. Besides, after a week in the hospital, he suspected that even he would be a welcome change from the walls and the doctors!

"Just don't irritate him," Riza gave Ed a knowing look. "He'll try and do something stupid, like retort."

"I'll be on my best behavior," Ed promised with a slight smirk. He wouldn't do anything on purpose to annoy a sick man, not even Roy Mustang.

It was a quiet night. Ethan was over at Sara's since their train for their mission left early in the morning and it was just easier for them to go over to the station together with the Doctor being sent. So it was just the three of them at the house, and Ed was glad for it.

"How's Maes?" Winry asked.

"Holding up better than I am," Riza replied. "Neither of us has been ill, thank goodness, but he's been good about spending time with Roy. He's actually a calming influence. I don't think I would be comfortable leaving Roy for a moment otherwise," she admitted softly. "Even though this is definitely a sign of improvement I've just been so worried all week."

Ed watched Winry's sympathetic glances and listened to the uncharacteristic tremors in Riza's voice, and suddenly had the suspicion he was missing something. "Is there something I'm not aware of?" he asked finally after a couple of minutes of silence. "This is about more than just a bout of pneumonia isn't it?"

Winry didn't say anything, but Riza finally nodded. "Roy's health hasn't been great for a long time," she spoke softly. "Not that he'd ever admit it, or do anything about it, despite how much I try and talk some sense into him." Her tone was slightly bitter and she shook her head slightly. "He never listens to Stevenson either, not unless there's an obvious problem, and sometimes not even then."

"He still passes the physical every year," Ed pointed out, a little confused, but given Riza's reaction, this was about more than run times.

Riza snorted. "Think about it, Edward. How many times in the last few years has Roy been sick?"

Ed certainly hadn't kept count, but when he thought about it, it definitely numbered higher than himself, or Al, or most anyone else he knew. "A few times," he replied. "Come to think of it, he does tend to be out longer for things doesn't he?"

Riza nodded. "Yet he still pushes himself just as hard as he did when he was twenty-five. He won't rest when he's tired. He won't admit when he's reached his limits." Her fork took an unnecessarily violent stab into the meat on her plate.

She didn't need to say much more. Ed had gotten the same lectures on stress and health from Stevenson for over twenty years. The difference was, much as he hated them, he'd listened. For the most part anyway. Roy had spent years in what had to be one of the most stressful jobs in the military, and he had never really been a relaxed kind of guy, except when he was avoiding paperwork. "Think maybe he'll listen now?"

Riza shook her head. "Not when he hears what Stevenson's proposing."

"And what is he proposing?" Ed asked as he stuck a forkful of vegetables in his mouth.

It felt like the temperature dropped five degrees with what Riza said next. "He wants Roy to retire from the military."

March 2nd, 1951

"Thanks for the ride," Sara smiled at Franz as he dropped her and Ethan off at the train station with their bags. "Who did you borrow the car from this time, or did you just swipe it?" she teased. It was early in the morning and the pre-dawn light was barely enough to see by. Thank goodness for the station lights. She and Ethan only had one bag each, both were experts at packing light by now, but she had been glad for the extra sleep that came with Franz's offer of a ride.

Franz, as she had expected, looked mildly annoyed that she would even suggest theft then he chuckled. "Sergeant Parks," he said. "He owed me a favor."

"Well I'm glad he did," Sara replied. An awkward silence fell and, in that moment, she wished she dared to hug him as exuberantly as she wanted. All right, she really wanted to kiss him, but they were friends and they had agreed to take things slow until they were ready to move past the past and try again. Well, Sara definitely felt ready, but she wasn't entirely sure about Franz. He certainly hadn't brought up the subject. "We'll be back in a few days," she promised.

"See you then," Franz smiled then he grinned at Ethan. "You take care of your sister, okay? She's terrible at taking care of herself."

Ethan smirked and saluted Franz, despite the fact he still looked half-bleary with sleep. "Yes Sir!" he laughed.

"I'll get you both back for that one," Sara mock-glared at them as she picked up her bag. "Come on, Ethan. Doctor Moors is supposed to meet us on the platform right?"

Ethan nodded an affirmative and they headed off. Sara couldn't help one last glance behind as they entered the building though. "He already left," Ethan commented.

"How would you know what I was looking for?" Sara snapped, realizing too late she was on the defensive, and she might as well have telegraphed you're right at her brother in bold font.

"I know you've had things kind of …strange, with guys," Ethan replied calmly. "But if you're that crazy about him, you should just go ahead and do something about it. It's been what, a year since you agreed to be friends and see what happens?"

"Fifteen months," Sara replied without even having to think about it and winced again. She was beginning to think that telling her littlest brother anything was more dangerous than telling Aldon!

"Sounds like taking it slow enough to me," Ethan commented, though there was no sarcasm in it.

Sara sighed. "That's how I feel," she admitted. They had made that promise the night of November twenty-fifth, nineteen-forty-nine. "But Franz hasn't brought it up in months and, lately, I'm not sure what to think." In all honesty, lately she was beginning to think that maybe he had lost interest, and just preferred the comfortable reliability of their friendship. "Come on, I think I see Doctor Moors now."

Ethan sighed but didn't press the issue, just looked up. "Yep, that's him," he confirmed.

Sara was glad to get down to business. A new assignment was just what she needed to get focused on the work she loved. Franz was something she could think of in her free time. She would worry about him later.

March 5th, 1951

Edward was whistling as he entered Breda's outer offices. It was a good day. Yesterday the end-of-class fight evaluations had gone well. He and Alphonse remained unbeaten. The fights had been good even with both of them taking it a little easy, more for themselves than their students! This class was progressing well; smoother than the last couple really. They had almost had a repeat of the Dietrich incident last year, but fortunately it hadn't ended in disaster. Their final test would, of course, be the State Alchemy Exam.

The office was bustling as usual. Over the years the staff had grown and changed. While Roy and Edward were technically directly under Breda, they weren't part of his staff in the traditional sense given their other duties. Only Feury and Falman out of Roy's original staff worked in the office as the senior-most officers in experience. Of the newer ones – only relatively speaking - that Ed knew reasonably well, there were Lieutenant Colonel Carl Braun and Lieutenant Franz Heimler and a couple of others. Then there were always newer officers in and out. Some worked out, some didn't.

Ed reached down out of habit at the end of the row of desks before his hand grasped empty air and he looked down. Almost every day for the last twenty plus years there had been a box of pastries there every morning; today nothing. Well, that was odd. Ed opened the door to Breda's office and went in. "Hey, Breda what's up? No donuts!" He stopped, further commentary dying on his lips as Breda looked up from his desk, his expression dour. "Is something wrong?"

"This came last night," Breda commented gruffly, holding out what looked like a hand-written letter.

Ed stepped up to the desk and took the letter. It was postmarked from out somewhere in Southwest Amestris and mailed four days ago. He scanned it quickly.

Dear Heymans,

There is no easy way to write this. I'm sorry to have to tell you that Jean died yesterday. His heart gave out. That's what the doctors tell me. I admit the medical reports don't make that much sense to me, but that's the short of it. The hospital here says they'll be sending the official record of death to the Central offices, since he gets proper military honors in Central, but I didn't want that to be how you found out. Please tell the rest of his friends for me. Putting this into words once has been difficult enough.

Regards, Grace Havoc

Ed surprised himself when the page blurred wetly in front of him with unshed tears. Havoc was dead? He could see that amused smirk in his mind, hear Havoc's quips. He'd been serious too though when he had to be, reliable, and a good friend. "Damn it."

"Got the official report this morning too," Breda sighed, dropping a thicker, more official letter on the desk. "Cause of death: a damned heart attack. No one got to him in time." Not that there was a lot they could have done.

"I told him the damned things'd kill him," Ed found himself saying; his voice thick with emotion. "While we were captured I told him." The words came out quiet, but if he didn't say something he had the feeling he really would cry, right here. He picked up the official paperwork. Yeah, it wasn't just the cigarettes, convenient as they were to blame and certainly part of it. It looked like Havoc had been having problems for years. Not that he would have ever said anything.

They hadn't lost one of 'the crew' since Hughes, and Ed hadn't been ready for this. He was having trouble taking the news in as it was. At least he understood the lack of fried pastries in the office this morning. It kind of made him lose his appetite too. "Does Roy know?"

"Not yet," Breda shook his head. "I haven't told anyone yet. Makes you think though, doesn't it?" Breda commented softly. "Maybe I should actually listen to my wife."

Ed handed the letter back. "That's usually considered wise," he replied with a half-hearted smile. "Or so Winry tells me. Should I warn the boys out front they'll have to find another source of deep-fried sugar?"

That got a smirk out of Breda. "Will I have to put up with comments like that for the rest of my life if I let you do it?"

Ed chuckled; it was good therapy for grief. "Probably not much," he replied. "I don't know about everyone else, but I'm more inclined to offer my assistance."

"And how's that?" Breda asked.

Ed smirked. "Do you remember any of your hand-to-hand combat training, Mister President?" He couldn't think of a faster way to get an old soldier back in fighting trim than the training that got him there in the first place!

Breda blinked then chuckled. "In theory," he shrugged. "It's been a long time."

"Then maybe it's time for a little refresher course," Ed said, "Unless you're too chicken to take me on."

"You mean crazy for thinking about it," Breda quipped. "Sure, why not? It's better than embarrassing myself in the gym at this point."

Ed smiled sympathetically. "Nah. You're not half as pathetic as some of the students who show up in my classes every year." Over the years, there had been quite a few who looked like they might not survive their first workouts in the alchemy program. They always did though. "We can spar at your place or mine, where ever you want." It didn't matter to Ed. But Breda was right. Only it wasn't just their wives guys should be listening to, but their friends as well. Personally, Ed preferred being more proactive. "I promise not to kill you."

"I'm sure Nancy and the kids will appreciate that," Breda smiled. "Though I might wish you had at first."

"Probably," Ed nodded. "We can start this weekend if you want." He certainly wasn't going to make it easy on him! But he was good at judging what his students could handle, and what was too much. The goal here was different too, and quite the opposite of killing anyone off. Inevitably, his thoughts returned to Havoc and Ed cringed.

"Next week," Breda suggested. "I'm sending the paperwork to the right offices this morning, but the funeral for Havoc will be this weekend."

"Someone's going to have to tell Roy," Ed said. "He'll never forgive us otherwise. Hell, with him still stuck in the hospital, he'll probably get pissed at Jean for the bad timing." Stevenson had made it clear Roy wasn't getting out in the next couple of days, and with this schedule that meant the funeral would be almost as soon as Havoc's body arrived in Central.

"Probably," Breda nodded solemnly. "I think I'll tell Riza and let her break it to him." It was a task he obviously didn't relish. Ed didn't blame him.

"I'll tell Al and the rest of the family," Ed offered. It made the most sense anyway. No one was going to be happy to get this news. He wasn't sure whether the kids would be upset about missing the funeral. Aldon couldn't make it from Resembool in time, and Ethan and Sara's mission had apparently gotten extended as they stayed to help the doctor with a rather overwhelming number of patients. Given the issues with pneumonia in Central lately, Ed understood why they were delayed. Though he didn't think the kids would be as harshly affected as the older generation. They liked Havoc all right, but didn't know him as well, and he wasn't entirely sure Sara had ever entirely forgiven Jean for his unwitting part in Ed's problems after the Xing War, despite his help later.

"I'll contact his family," Breda sighed. "He still has a couple of relatives out there, and I'll handle the rest of it. I hate this kind of work." He picked up the papers again.

"I don't envy you the task," Ed nodded. "Next week then," he offered up a smirk. "No weaseling out of it." A work out with Breda would definitely be interesting.

"Oh don't worry I won't," Breda smirked back. "Once Nancy finds out I'd never live it down."

"I'll make sure to call your house next week and leave a reminder," Ed smiled sadly. He set the papers down on the desk that he had almost forgotten about. "A little paperwork to finish up before the State Alchemy Exam," he said.

"Ah right," Breda picked it up and flipped through it. "The reason you actually came up here I'm sure."

"Right," Ed nodded. He turned to go. "I'll see you later." He still had plenty of work to do today. For starters, he had actually picked up a lot of Roy's general office work for the time being as much as he could. Al had as well. Anything not alchemy related or menial had been passed on down to the rest of the staff in Breda's office since they were technically still under both men.

Breda nodded as he left. "I'll see you, Ed."

Winry was more than a little surprised when Ed's response to her 'hello' when he got home was to gather her up in his arms and hug her so tightly she almost couldn't breathe. "What's wrong?" she asked as her arms went around him almost reflexively. She could feel the tension in his muscles, especially in the shoulders and neck. She wasn't sure what could have Ed so upset. "Did something happen at work?"

Ed straightened up then, a deep sadness in those golden eyes as he looked down at her. "We lost Jean," he replied simply. That was all he had to say; his expression said the rest.

"Oh, Edward," Winry hugged him again, more tightly this time, surprised as tears threatened to come in her own eyes. It was always hard to lose someone you had known a long time. "What happened to him?"

"It was his heart," Ed replied, unable to hide the bitter anger in his tone, and what Winry suspected was a hint of guilt. As if Ed could have seen it coming or done anything to stop it.

A sad death but not a surprising end. Winry shook her head. "That's terrible."

"There was a letter from Grace," Ed explained then, going over the details briefly. "The funeral's on Sunday," he finished.

That was just two days away. "Are you all right?" Winry asked him, searching his expression with her eyes. She knew Ed.

Ed shrugged, but she wasn't fooled. "I don't like it," he admitted. "Really, I hate it. But what can I do now? I feel like I should have tried harder or something," he replied, the calm exterior breaking easily though she doubted Ed realized it. "He was a friend, and I feel like I let him down." A single tear escaped from the corner of his left eye as his throat hitched.

"It's not your fault, Ed," Winry brushed the tear away with her finger, letting her hand caress the side of his face. "You aren't responsible for another grown man's personal decisions. Jean wasn't naïve, and as much as we can think we know why it happened, and be sure of the contributing factors, we can't know that it wouldn't have happened anyway. The facts are the facts, sad as they are." Jean Havoc had been a very good man, a kind and caring person, but Winry was well aware of how little 'old soldiers' seemed to be capable of taking care of themselves. Neither could most of the married ones, which was likely why they got married! "I just hope Grace is all right."

Ed shrugged. "From the letter, I don't think so. She could barely stand to write the one. But she'll be arriving in town tomorrow evening, or so I heard before I came home."

Winry nodded. "Does she have somewhere to stay?"

"I asked about that," Ed replied. "Breda said he talked to Al and he was going to talk to Gracia about staying at her place."

"That makes sense," Winry said. Gracia had the whole house to herself after all, and she knew what it was like to lose a husband. "So, are you hungry?" When Ed was upset, it was a valid question.

Ed shrugged, but he smiled then. "Some; my brain's the part of me that's full," he teased a little. "I'm just a little shaken, that's all." He hugged her again once more. "I'm so glad I have you."

"For comfort?" Winry asked, smiling up at him, hinting playfully at the alternative meanings.

Ed chuckled but shook his head. "Because you're good at taking care of me."

Winry kissed his cheek. "We're good at taking care of each other."

March 7th, 1951

The military funeral for war hero Colonel Jean Havoc was a solemn affair, but grand, and not unlike the funeral of Brigadier General Maes Hughes for those who remembered it. For those who had missed it, Edward thought bitterly, it might have felt like this. A lot of men had died since then and they weren't standing near the same plot of ground, but it was the same cemetery and the mourning of a lost comrade.

The day was overcast with thick gray clouds, though it didn't quite feel like rain. Grace Havoc stood alone, at her own request, politely turning down offers of an arm to lean on or a hand to hold.

When it was over, Edward waited for most of the guests to leave before paying his personal respects. Winry seemed to understand, and went with Elicia and Gracia when they went to briefly visit Maes Hughes' grave as well. Ed could catch them later. Soon, the only two people left standing by the grave where himself and Grace. Ed stood in silence, not wanting to say anything out loud in case he disturbed her.

"That's three," Grace said quietly after a couple of minutes of silence.

"Three?" Ed couldn't help asking.

"Three men I've loved that I've lost," Grace replied without looking up from the grave. There was a sad, solemn acceptance on her face. "But Jean was the one I can honestly say I loved the most and who loved me the best."

Ed knew some of Grace's past, at least what pieces he had gotten from Jean, a couple of conversations with Grace and, oddly enough, some information from Roy who had once dated her briefly. Why wasn't Ed surprised by that fact? "He was a good guy," he replied, not sure what else to say.

Grace smiled slightly then. "Jean was brave and kind. He did everything with his whole heart when he got wrapped up in something. He gave me another chance at a life I thought I'd lost and outgrown. But I always seem to pick the ones who would never make it on their own and can't take care of themselves."

"What do you mean?" She seemed to want to talk, so Ed didn't feel like he shouldn't ask.

Grace shrugged, and looked up from the grave. "My ex-husband died a few years after I left," she replied. "I only found out a couple of years ago, but he drank himself to death, still unable to deal with his problems and without me to take his problems out on." She sighed. "The second died before we ever really had a chance doing avalanche rescue. Jean's the only one who made it this long on his own, and that seems like a miracle sometimes. I couldn't bring myself to pester him about little things." She looked back down at the grave. "Not after everything he's been through. Everyone has vices they shouldn't, but they use them to cope with the things too terrible to face. I just wish Jean had told me about his heart."

What? "You mean he knew?"

"I talked to his doctor here yesterday," Grace admitted. "When we'd come through was when he'd see him. Said he didn't really trust anyone else."

"Stevenson," Ed nodded. He didn't really have to guess. Even though a lot of folks hated listening to the man that was usually because they knew he was right.

Grace nodded. "Apparently his heart had been getting slowly worse for years. But you know Jean. He never really worried about living to an old age. He just wanted to enjoy life while he still could." Her lip trembled, and Ed watched as fresh tears began to fall. "He couldn't have known when, but he was so set in his ways, I can't believe he didn't see it coming. I wouldn't have changed him for the world, not after everything he's given me – especially himself – but I wish he had told me."

She stopped speaking then, and didn't look like she was particularly expecting an answer or comment. Still, Ed felt awkward. "So, what will you do now?"

"I think I'd like to stay in Central for a while," Grace replied. "Gracia said I could stay with her for as long as I wanted. I know I still have Jean's place here technically, but it's nice to not be alone."

Ed could understand that. "Well if you need help with anything, please don't hesitate to ask all right?"

Grace smiled at him softly. "Thank you, Edward." She turned and walked away slowly.

Ed watched her, and noticed Gracia and the others still waiting down by Hughes' grave. They were waiting for him too. Well, in just a minute. There was something he wanted to say first. "Hey Havoc," he looked down at the new grave, currently covered in fresh flowers. "I've got a message for you from Mustang, though I share the sentiment. He just wanted me to tell you that you're probably the most loyal idiot ever. Still, we'll miss you, pal." He'd been fighting with his emotions all day, and he swallowed when his voice cracked. "If you run into him, say hi to Hughes for me." Ed turned away and headed back up the hill to rejoin the others; to continue living.