A/N: This is a tag to Fullmetal Alchemist episode 8, "The Philosopher's Stone". If I've gotten any of the information wrong please let me know, otherwise enjoy!

~Spring

Ed sighed heavily, letting the hot water rinse over him and desperately trying to think of anything other than that.

To no avail.

His mind kept flashing back to that moment, that one terrifying, awful moment where he'd believed he was going to die. Where he'd come to the heart-stopping conclusion that it was 'me or him.'

When Al and the others had showed up, all he'd managed to say was that he'd thought he was going to die. That he'd honestly thought he was going to die and he'd been so scared. Then his throat had clamped shut and he hadn't been able to say anything else, overwhelmed by the tears, and the fear, but worst of all, the shame.

Because yes, he'd almost been killed. For a brief, petrifying moment, death had been a legitimate outcome, but that wasn't what had reduced him to tears.

He was happy that was all he'd been able to say, all Al had been forced to hear. Let his little brother think he'd been scared of his imminent death, it was easier that way. He felt less ashamed that way. Because what was really bothering him was something else entirely.

There'd been a moment, before Al had swooped in like a guardian angel, when the options had turned completely black and white. The man was a sociopath, and Ed knew without a doubt that he would've chopped him to pieces without so much as a second thought.

And there'd been a moment, a split second, where he'd made the decision. He'd seen the outcome and he knew he had two options: kill or be killed.

So he'd decided, made the choice. And in that one moment, no matter how brief it had been, Ed had been willing to do whatever it took to stay alive. Even if that had meant chopping Barry the Chopper.

Rationally he knew it was just survival instincts, it wasn't like he was normally willing to kill another human. But he'd still felt it, his hands had been ready to carry out the act, and now all he felt was shame.

He'd proclaimed that alchemists weren't just murderers, but he'd just proved himself wrong.

With a sigh Ed switched off the water. Grabbing his towel he dried off quickly and pulled a clean set of clothes on. He was just happy that no one had questioned him further, thankfully believing his broken reasoning for why he'd been so upset.

As Ed stepped out of the shower, still toweling dry his hair, he halted in his tracks, chest deflating and eyes narrowing. Sitting before him, practically lounging on the bench, was Mustang.

Apparently he hadn't fooled everyone.

"Fullmetal." The Colonel stated calmly, not moving an inch.

Ed's glare deepened in return, his metal food clinking as he crossed the room. "What do you want?"

"Just to check in, you went through a traumatizing experience after all."

Ed had to physically contain a grumble, seriously, how did that man manage to make every word he said sound condescending? "I'm fine." He ground out, busying himself with braiding his hair tightly behind his head.

"Uh-huh." Mustang retorted in the same tone of voice. "And that's why your hands are shaking."

Ed halted in his tracks, giving up on the failed braid and shoving his hands deeply in his pockets. "What of it? It's just excess adrenaline." He shot back testily.

"Sure it is."

Ed sighed tersely, his eyes darting about the empty washroom angrily.

"Why don't you tell me what's bothering you."

It wasn't a request, and Ed could tell the Colonel wouldn't leave unless he got a solid answer. "I almost died."

"Yes, and that would be terrifying for anyone. Now what's the real issue?"

Ed bit back a growl of frustration, turning to pace the room, creating a steady rhythm of smack, tink, smack, tink as he stepped barefoot across the hard tiled floor. Curse that man and his ability to read people! Or perhaps he just knew the kid who had survived the horrors of a failed human transmutation and was stubborn enough to bind his brother's disembodied soul to a suit of armor was afraid of more than just losing his life. In which case curse him for knowing so much about his past!

Mustang waited quietly, patiently. If there was one thing he was good at, it was the waiting game. And his patience could far outlast Ed's any day.

Finally Ed stopped pacing, his head was down, long wet hair hiding his face and his hands were clutched in tight fists by his sides. "I thought I was going to die." He began quietly, "And in that moment when he was coming at me, I knew it was gonna be me or him."

Mustang nodded softly, waiting for the boy to continue, but when he didn't he figured he'd nudge the conversation along. "So you decided your life was worth more than his."

Ed released a shaky breath, and Mustang could just barely see his chin trembling. "I didn't care about worth, if he deserved to die, if I deserved to live. I just thought about what I had to do to survive. What I was willing to do to survive."

"And what was that?"

Ed's head snapped up, water splashing off his golden hair in small droplets. His wide amber eyes filled with tears, the full shame of what he was feeling crashing down upon him. "Anything!"

And there it was, out in the open. Ed felt his shoulders begin to shake, dropping his gaze to the ground and hiding behind his bangs as tears began to trail down his cheeks.

Suddenly there was a warm pressure on his flesh shoulder, a gentle yet firm hand forcing his chin up. Ed had to suppress a gasp at the burning gaze that met his eyes, the normally steely glare of his commanding officer alight with an emotion Ed couldn't quite place.

"Edward," Mustang began sternly.

Edward, not Fullmetal, not runt or pipsqueak or any other name demeaning of his height. Ed held Mustang's gaze, captivated.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, do you understand me?"

"But I-"

"Anything you did was out of self-defense. You were in a terrifying, life threatening situation, and there is no shame in what you were willing to do to protect yourself, do you understand?"

Ed sniffed and wiped his nose. "But-"

"No but's. There were no other possibilities Edward, no other outcomes. For all you knew you were completely alone there, no help was coming. You have nothing to be ashamed of, no reason to feel guilty, do you understand?"

Ed inhaled deeply, more tears stung in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He didn't trust his voice not to waver, but he nodded determinedly.

Mustang, seemingly satisfied, nodded softly in return and made his way out of the washroom.

When Ed's hands returned to his hair they no longer shook, and he was able to flawlessly tie it back in his usual braid.

Al was waiting by the steps outside Central when Ed finally emerged. He questioned how he was doing, noting the addition of a bandage over Ed's eye.

When Ed responded that he was fine, it was the first time since the whole ordeal that he actually believed it himself.

Not everything was fixed yet, he still had to have a conversation with a certain Colonel over a particular pocket watch.

That could wait however, it was late, and all he really wanted was a little food and a good night's sleep.

He could hash out the rest of the details tomorrow.