Chapter Text
Edward didn't breathe... How the hell was he supposed to breathe? The world was a distant memory--a plane of existence that merely coincided with Edward's bubble. The world outside was a warbling mash of sounds heard through what seemed like water.
You finally did it.
The thing about shutting out the outside world was that in made the one inside a bit louder. His heart was beating in his ears. So loud. It was a proper pounding. He'd need to breathe to keep it working, but he wasn't entirely against the idea of that overwhelming pounding between his ears stopping. It wasn't ideal, but it would solve some problems.
How did it feel?
Ed's lungs kind of burned but he didn't want to breathe. He didn’t want to disturb the bubble around him. It was keeping the outside world from flooding in on his and crushing him with its weight. What an ugly thing that would be.
Not as ugly as what you've done
Edward took a breath. Shame... The slight burning in his lungs subsided, but it had been so grounding.
Still hiding...
The bubble remained intact as some impossible force kept it from bursting.
So childish.
What was Ed meant to do?
Admit your guilt.
Edward shuddered another breath. His shut his eyes and he covered his ears, shaking his head. He could smell the iron so close.
You know what you did.
Edward felt the burn behind his eyes. No! Don’t cry! He existed in his own world, but it was not built with walls, but glass--clear as day. Any person would see, so he wouldn't let a tear be shed from his face. It was an ugly habit. It was a childish escape.
So right... You want to escape.
Edward gulped weakly. He was hiding behind his hands and his tightly screwed eyelids. His frame shook, an uncontrollable tremor building in his chest.
You can try to hide.
If he didn't let out the tears and the emotions he'd explode and the facade of his own world would crumble around him, but he couldn't be weak.
You are weak.
And then the tears fell. He couldn't hold them in any longer. The floodgates burst open.
Murderer. It was the coldest accusations.
It wasn't an accusation. It was fact. It was a fact Edward was forced to face but wasn't sure he had the stomach to do so.
Two hands latched onto Edward's shoulders. "Edward, I think it's time we should go."
Edward blinked. His bubble was still intact the outside world was still so far away, but Mustang was kneeling in front of Edward, now a part of Ed's safety bubble. And the look of gentleness that was so foreign to Colonel Roy Mustang's features ruined everything. He couldn't hold it in, the sob that had been burbling in his chest erupted from his mouth in a painful cry. "I'm sorry, Mustang! I killed him! I killed him..."
"You didn't kill him, Ed." Mustang's grip tightened.
Edward shook his head. His hands told a different story. The blood caked and smeared all over and embedded under his nails.
"I did."
Ed paused. He hadn't been the one to say it, but it had been the very thing he was thinking.
"Edward, I killed him. He was still alive when I got to him... You didn't do it. It was me." Mustang's hands pushed Ed's down and he took Edward's cheeks in his palms. "I'm a killer, Ed. You've never been... you never will be, you understand?"
Edward nodded, eyes wet and voice not working, but he didn't think he believed it even as he nodded.
You're a killer now too.