A/N: This is the result of two things: 1) Watching a fan made Nostalgia Critic video and ep 25 of the first anime before going to bed

2) Sleeping too little but having good dreams is apparentally a source of inspiration. I had good dreams: I was Edward and broke my arm and fructured my skull.

Anyway, enjoy!

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The normal, quiet afternoon turned out to be more interesting for Havoc. Like every other day, the man was completing his paperwork. The office room was empty except for him.

Now that the opportunity arose, the man took a box of cigarettes from his pocket. These rare moments when Hawkeye wasn't there had to be used. Others didn't care about him smoking in the office room but the woman (and occasionally Mustang) always kept him from not pursuing his addiction.

Just as he was about to light the first cigarette, the door opened and a yellow-haired boy entered the room.

"Hey, kid," Havoc smiled but then he saw the look on the boy's face. The yellow eyes had lost their fire and his whole expression seemed to have sunken downwards.

"Are you okay?" The man lowered the cigarette onto the table. Usually he could freely smoke in the presence of Edward, yet, he had tried to get out of that habit. After all, the boy had a full life ahead of himself and Havoc didn't want to be the reason for Edward's possible premature death. Now, the boy looked like he needed all of the man's attention.

Edward walked slowly to the table and slumped onto the seat opposite Havoc. The boy crossed his arms onto the table and put his head on them so that the man couldn't see his face.

"Hey," Havoc put his hand onto the boy's back, rubbing it slowly. "What's wrong?"

Finally the boy looked at the man in the eyes and whispered: "I slipped."

"What?"

"I broke down," the boy repeated a bit stronger this time. He shook his head and seemed to be in the verge of tears. "I didn't mean to, it just was there and I- now I feel so bad! I'm so sorry."

Havoc didn't know what the boy meant by slipping. After all, 15-year-old and 28-year-olds had different ways in dealing with some things. Numerous options came to Havoc's mind and all of them were not innocent.

He moved his hand onto the golden mess of hair on Edward's head and stroked it unconsciously. The boy bowed his head and sniffed: that was an alarming signal for Havoc. Edward never cried unless something totally horrible had happened.

The man knew the boy had been under a lot of stress lately. He was on his worst phase of puberty and that caused him to think that the whole world was against him. On top of that, they annual State Alchemist control was about to take place in a few days: Sometimes the boy worked around the clock trying to come up with something useful to the military. The tension was obviously too much for the boy. Edward was a perfect example of why teenagers shouldn't be accepted in the military.

Horrible options circled in Havoc's mind. What had the boy done? He seemed to be doing okay on the outside. If he had drunk alcohol, he could have smelt it as soon as the boy had crashed onto the chair. Had he cut himself? That was a way too popular way for teenagers to deal with their anxiety and Havoc didn't want to think Edward was that incapable in expressing his emotions in words. Had he taken drugs or medicine? Some drugs had anxiety as after effects and certain medicines could be fatal to the body if used wrong.

"Edward," Havoc rose his voice and grabbed a handful of the boy's hair to enforce his words. "What did you do?"

The boy winced a bit at the sudden, punishing like gesture and tears came into his eyes. He looked at the blue- eyes of Havoc and whispered:

"I watched High School Musical."

The anger disappeared from the man's face and was replaced by shock.

"You didn't-"

Edward shook his head as if to clear it from horrible images.

"It was so dreadful! None of the teens could act nor sing. Why was it even made?"

"I told you not to see it!" Havoc removed his hand from the boy's hair in frustration. "Didn't I warn you enough?"

"I'm sorry. I should have listened to you!" The boy tried to make the man calmer and earn some sympathy.

Havoc only shook his head in disappointment and lifted the forgotten cigarette.

"You can only blame yourself, kid," The man finally lighted the cigarette and inhaled the first lungful of nicotine smoke. "You really need to start listening to your elders."

The boy put his head on his arms again and stayed there. A minute went in silence. Both the man and the boy were in their thoughts: Edward recalling that horrible hour of watching the musical and Havoc thinking whether or not he should be so harsh on the boy. Edward had obviously had a weak moment and there had been no voice of reason to help him to make the right choice. Furthermore, he should be thankful that Edward had not hurt himself physically. Though, mental scars were always the most difficult to heal.

"You'll get over this," Havoc started in a gentle tone.

"How?" Edward lifted his gaze, voice as weak as before. The man left his cigarette onto his lips: no one else was able to do it the way he could.

"First," the man leaned nearer the boy. "Think of that movie as a way for Disney to get more money. It has no cultural importance; no one but pre-teen girls can watch it without being scarred for live."

The boy seemed to be more at ease after those words. Havoc put his hand on the boy's flesh shoulder squeezing it gently.

"Your reaction is the one that any sane person would give."

The boy smiled for the first time that day.

"Now, we ought to get you back to the real classics. Let's take an easy start so it won't be that big a shock: Peter Pan and then maybe Aladdin or is it too good to begin with. Anyway, the last will be Lion King."

Havoc went on with his plans until Hughes entered the office room carrying a stack of papers to be filled. His pace slowed down considerably as he came to the boy. He crouched down a bit to look at Edward's face properly.

"What is wrong with you?" Hughes asked the boy curiously. Edward turned his face to the man but didn't speak: that was a signal for Havoc to answer for him.

"He saw High School Musical."

Hughes shook his head as he stood up to his full height again.

"I just don't understand what is so horrible about that movie," the black-haired man muttered as he walked to the furthest seat which was usually occupied by Hawkeye. Setting the paper stack onto the table, he began to separate individual form piles from each other.

Havoc eyed the task skeptically and leaned back on his seat, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Have you ever seen that movie?"

"No," Hughes answered in one simple word and set one of paper combinations onto Havoc's desk.

"Your daughter has that movie and you haven't seen it? How do you do it?"

The man grinned: "I stay late at work."

"I wish that would work for me too," Havoc sighed. At Edward puzzled expression, he explained better. "My little sister insisted we'll watch it when I last visited home. I had nightmares that night."

"I won't sleep tonight," Edward shook his head crushed. "Those songs keep repeating in my head."

"Don't worry; you'll forget them in a week."

The oldest man grew frustrated with the younger ones and snapped: "A movie can't possibly be that bad!"

Both Edward and Havoc turned their gaze to Hughes and said at the same time: "Wanna bet?"

That evening, Maes Hughes watched the first High School Musical with his daughter. For a week, Edward and Gracia woke up by the man screaming something about Fűhrer dancing on the table.

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I have only seen a part of the first HSM and it was enough. Reviews are always welcome.