Edward was released from the hospital three weeks later, declared healthy physically but on a rather high prescription of pain meds for both his chest and the steel ports that pained him so terribly in the colder months that they were quickly entering.

He was scrawny, and was forced to wear a lighter, less sturdy prosthesis while he regained muscle mass. He got winded easily now, from not having had exercised in months, and Alphonse was constantly fretting over him.

And he hated it.

He wanted to be himself again, the strong person he used to be in his past life, not this weak, violated, impure imitation.

--

Two months later found Edward passing the State Alchemy exam, as well as Alphonse. Ed wasn't all too happy about that, but there really wasn't anything he could do about it. Alphonse shared the same stubbornness he did, and seemed ton think that Ed couldn't take care of himself.

Which...

Ed feared he may be right.

He was useless without his glasses, and if he even so much thought of the man who had reduced him to this, he went into full on panic mode.

He was underweight without his automail, muscle mass not wanting to return easily, and with the automail he was constantly becoming exhausted, running himself to the ground and working himself until he was sometimes actually spitting blood. It wasn't healthy, but it was a small price to pay for even a semblance of normalcy.

--

Ed dreamt.

He dreamt of pain, of whispered words and foreboding promises, promises of fear and promises that they would be back to claim Ed once again.

He woke with a scream that no one could hear.

--

Ed was awake, now.

Staring listlessly out the window, his automail fingers were drumming a rhythmic pattern out onto the windowsill.

He didn't move that day, completely zoned out and unwilling to even acknowledge his brother's worried pleas.

--

Ed fell asleep, his eyes twitching restlessly under their lids, face screwed up ever so faintly in a show of his pain.

He woke up, shuddering.

"Not real," he would mouth to himself. "Not real." It was unclear whether he was speaking about the dream or reality at this point, his once fiery golden eyes dull from pain.

--

Broken.

--

He passed the State Alchemist exams with flying colors three months later.

Ed agreed to wear the uniform, too tired to argue against it.

--

The days passed in gray, blurred flashes that he could hardly distinguish from one another.

He took no joy from the snow that fell from the sky as he used to.

--435 Words--

Sorry for the short chapter. Can't write much. No inspiration at the moment. Oh well. ~The_Sin_Pride