Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a well known fact that Roy Mustang enjoyed getting out of work.

Whether it was taking an hour long bathroom break, shoving his unfinished paperwork in an empty drawer so Hawkeye would let him leave, or counting the number of pens on his desk, Roy would do pretty much anything to avoid sitting at his desk for hours, his hand cramping after signing his name for what seemed like the upteenth time.

However, sitting in the hospital waiting room for two hours, in an uncomfortable plastic chair that was digging into his back, waiting on his Major, was not what he normally imagined when coming up with ideas to avoid paperwork.

Roy rubbed the bridge of his nose, tapping his foot impatiently as he tried to smoosh down the gnawing anxiety in his chest. He watched each medical professional walk by him, hoping that one would eventually come up to him and inform him that no, they hadn’t forgotten about him, and yes, Edward was ready to leave.

His Major had been sent down to Aldwall on what he had assumed would be a simple mission. The farming town was less than an hour from East City, with a population of around 300. The town was due for an inspection on their dam, and the task had fallen to Roy’s little team.

All Edward had to do was take a train down, inspect the dam, and be back in less than two days. Hell, Roy had even given him three in case something came up or if he wanted to take a day break before heading back to the city. Edward had been less than thrilled to take time away from his research, but even he admitted that the mission would be stupidly easy.

But no, Roy thought as he adjusted his position on the plastic chair, trying to ease the discomfort in his back. Nothing can ever be easy with Fullmetal.

Of course, it turned out that the little town had a rumor that had gone unnoticed by the military. Edward found out that there was an old tale that Chimeras were running around the woods that surrounded the town. And, Edward being Edward, he just had to inspect it by himself instead of calling to report to Roy like he was supposed to.

Roy swore that if anyone else had been sent in place of Edward, the rumor would have turned out to be false, and there wouldn’t have been any mismatched monsters living in the woods. Unfortunately, Edward waltzed right into the home of four Chimeras that were not too thrilled to be exposed.

When Alphonse had called him about seven hours after Edward’s scheduled check in, Roy’s fear had quickly turned to anger, and he was ready to rip into the boys about irresponsibility and laziness. Before he could get a single word out, Alphonse hurried apologized and explained that Edward had gotten into a brutal, bloody fight in the woods with a group of Chimeras, and Roy could only smack his forehead in a mixture of frustration and anxiety.

Edward had insisted over the phone that he was fine, but Roy didn’t want to hear it, insisting that he get on a train back to East City immediately. Roy knew Edward was a gifted alchemist and incredibly smart, but he did not trust that there was nothing wrong with his subordinate, especially after all had let it slip that the fight had been a close one.

After that phone call, Roy was completely overcome with an emotion that he didn’t quite understand, but decided to label it as annoyance. Of course Edward had jumped headfirst into a potentially fatal situation without any back-up. Of course he had sent Edward on a stupidly simple mission that turned out to have alchemic monsters running about. And, of course it had to be Chimeras.

Chimeras made Roy uncomfortable, for a number of reasons. Ever since the Shou Tucker incident, and seeing how badly it had affected Edward, he couldn’t help but feel responsible for what had happened. It was the first time he had ever seen Edward cry, and it bothered him in a way he couldn’t quite understand, and he had promised himself that he would expose Edward and him to a situation like that again.

So as upset as he was with Edward from making a rash and impulsive decision, a part of him guessed that Edward had reacted so quickly to the Chimera rumor in Aldwall because he wanted to make sure that there hadn’t been another Nina Tucker.

Even the mention of the girl’s name made him feel sick. He had only met the girl a couple of times, but he still remembered the way she had grabbed onto his pant leg and smiled at him, her long brown hair done into braids.

The knowledge of what had been done to her made him shudder.

Regardless, the minute Edward had arrived back in East City, Roy had taken him straight from the station to the hospital, despite the whining and complaining that he was fine. It was easy to tell by how Edward rigidly sat in the car, and how he visibly winced each time Roy went over a bump, that he was lying.

Now, Roy was sitting in the hospital, a coil of anxiety tight in his chest. He tugged at the collar of his jacket, taking a breath to settle himself. Down the hall, a woman with short black hair and a pristine white coat came into view, holding a clipboard. He watched her for a moment as she gazed down at the clipboard, the coil in his chest growing tighter.

Finally, she looked back up and made her way over to him. Roy stood, legs slightly wobbly from sitting for so long, and dusted himself off, ignoring the slight tremor in his hands. The woman, which he assumed was the doctor, held out her hand with a brief smile. Roy was glad he had taken the time to wipe his hands.

“Roy Mustang?” She inquired, taking Roy’s hand in hers.

He nodded. “Yes, you are?”

“Dr. Adkins. I apologize for the wait. Radiology is backed up, so it took a while for Edward’s results to come back.”

“That’s alright.” Roy had to stop the impatience from creeping into his voice. Dr. Adkins didn’t seem worried, which was a good sign, but he needed to know exactly what was up with Edward. “How is he?”

“Just a couple of minor injuries.” She gave a quick glance to the clipboard. “If you follow me, I’ll take you to him. I’m sure you want to see him.”

Instead of waiting for a response, she turned her back to him, striding down the hall. Irritation inched its way into Roy’s expression at her vague answer as he sped up to match her pace.

“What exactly is wrong with him?” He asked tersely.

Dr. Adkins gave him a glance over her shoulder. “Nothing super concerning. A couple of lacerations to the arm, and a bit of bruising. I’m more concerned about his ribs?”

Roy furrowed his eyebrows, that tight coil is his chest threatening to spring open. “Are they bruised?”

Dr. Adkins stopped abruptly, and Roy stumbled to keep himself from crashing into her. She cocked her head at him. “They’re broken. He already knew about it. I thought that’s why you were here.”

Roy shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, a sharp exhale escaping him. He tried to keep the fear off of his face. “I had no idea. He just got back from Aldwall and insisted he was fine. I didn’t believe him,”

“You were right not too,” Dr. Adkins had begun walking again. “He had already wrapped them, so that’s why I assumed you knew.”

Roy rubbed his face tiredly. Of course Edward had broken ribs that he had neglected to mention. Dr. Adkins nudged his arm kindly as he followed her.

“Seems as though this isn’t the first time he’s done this?” She questioned.

Roy muttered in annoyance, and she chuckled slightly. “I wouldn’t worry so much, Mr. Mustang. Kids like him bounce back really well. He’s already doing much better than when he came in. I’m not a parent myself, but I understand the worry that you guys can feel.”

This time, Roy was the one who cocked his head. “Parent?”

“He is your son, is he not?”

Roy‘s eyes widened in an almost comedic way, and he spluttered awkwardly. “No, no, he’s my subordinate. I’m his commanding officer, not his father,”

“That boy is in the military?” The doctor seemed confused, glancing once again at the clipboard in her hands.

“He’s the Fullmetal Alchemist. You know, youngest one ever?” Roy supplied helpfully, still feeling out of place.

Recognition flared in Dr. Adkins eyes. “That explains the difference in looks then. I assumed he got the hair from your wife.” She stopped by a door, turning the knob. “Although, his face shape is very similar to yours.”

Roy instinctively brought his hand to his face, but before he could question her statement, she had already entered the room. He followed her, pushing in front of her to look for Edward.

Once he saw him, the coil in his chest finally unwound. Edward was sitting up in the bed, his legs hanging over the edge. He had his typical pissed off look on his face, with his red jacket wrapped around his shoulders. Roy could see the bruising peeking out from underneath the bindings on his chest, and the shallow wounds on his arm, but other than that, he looked just fine.

Roy rested back against the wall as Dr. Adkins approached his Major. Edward immediately glared at Roy when he saw him enter the room, and Roy glared back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sorry for the wait, Edward. I know you’re not the biggest fan of hospitals.” Dr. Adkins said sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder.

“Damn right I don’t.” Edward mumbled, although there was no real irritation, or at least not towards her, behind it. “At least there weren't any needles.”

Dr. Adkins laughed. “Yes, I know you have difficulty with those. However,” she turned towards Roy. “You’ll be happy to know you can leave soon.”

“He’s free to go?” Roy implored, shifting his weight.

“As long as he takes his medicine and goes easy for a while, he should be fine.”

“Yeah yeah,” Edward muttered, swinging his legs. “I’m fine. Can we go now?”

“Does he have a legal guardian to sign his release papers?” The doctor looked towards Roy expectedly.

Roy lifted himself off the wall, holding his hands out for the clipboard. “That’d be me.”

“Hurry it up, would ya bastard?” Ed piped up, jumping off the bed. “I’ve got things to go.”

Taking the clipboard from the doctor's hands, Roy gave Edward a pointed look. “You’re not going anywhere until you and I have had a serious conversation. Understand?”

Edward just snarled as Roys signed the papers, and Roy had to resist the urge to snarl back. He scribbled his name, perhaps a bit too aggressively, and handed back the clipboard. Taking it, Dr. Adkins handed him a form.

“It’s his prescription.” She explained, amusement present on her face. “Pick it up on your way out.”

The two left then, hitting the pharmacy on their way out to pick up Edward’s medicine. Edward was following Roy without a word, although annoyance was etched into his face. Roy was sure to walk a bit slower than normal, because even though Edward was copping an attitude before, it was obvious he was still in a bit of pain. Occasionally, a grimace or sharp intake of breath would escape him, but Roy didn’t acknowledge it.

Besides that, the walk back to the car was silent.

A blast of cold air hit the both of them as they stepped outside, and Roy shivered, tightening his jacket around him. He looked back towards Edward, who merely sniffled and did the same with his red jacket. Instinctively, Roy wrapped an arm around Edward to keep him warm. Edward stiffened, but didn’t protest as they walked toward the car.

It was much colder in East City than normal. Once they hit the months of November and December, and sometimes even October, the temperature would drop to about 60 degrees. Right now, at about the beginning of December, temperatures had dropped to about 40. They were even threats of snow falling later in the week, which was practically unheard of.

Roy hated it.

He grumbled, quickening his pace, although careful to make sure Edward could keep up with him. Against his side, he could feel Edward shivering, which just made him more eager to escape the cold. If he wanted weather like this, he would have requested a transfer up North with General Armstrong.

Once they got to the car, Roy pointed to the passenger seat of the car, causing Edward to roll his eyes. Normally, he sat in the back, but with the lecture Roy had in mind, and the fact that he wanted to watch him on the drive over to the dorms, he wanted him up in the front. Edward slammed the door of the car as he got in, and Roy narrowed his eyes.

It was silent as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot. Roy’s mind was reeling with what he wanted to tell Edward, and his subordinate was glaring down at his feet, arms wrapped around his injured chest. He was clearly in a sour mood. It probably wasn’t the best idea to lecture him in this state, but it would be a couple of days before he saw him again, and he wanted to get it over with.

Perhaps he wouldn’t be so harsh on him this time. He was in pain, and Roy was no stranger to broken ribs. He gave him a side glance, and after a few more seconds of silence, he opened his mouth to speak. Edward beat him to it.

“Is this the part where you bitch me out?” He growled, turning to look out the car window.

Roy scowled. He clearly felt well enough to be difficult. “I am NOT bitching you out. I’m lecturing you,” he hissed, trying to control his tone.

Edward huffed. “Same thing,”

Alright, this kid was getting on his nerves. Screw being less harsh. “Oh, if you’re so informed then, why don’t you tell me what the hell you were thinking?”

Edward’s golden eyes sparked with irritation as he turned back to glower at Roy. “I didn’t do anything.”

Roy scoffed, turning tight a little too aggressively, causing Ed to fall backwards. His grip on the steering wheel was turning his fingers white as he tried to control his anger. “What do you mean you didn’t do anything?! I send you on a simple mission less than an hour from the city and you still manage to break your ribs!”

Edward threw his hands up in the air, sitting up straighter. “It’s not MY fault you neglected to mention the damn Chimeras that were nestled down there!”

“You know that I had no idea about that!” Roy spat, his anger getting the better of him. He could feel the blood pounding in his head as Edward argued with him

“Then what did you think was gonna happen?!”

“I expected you to check in at the correct time like you were supposed to and tell me what was going on!” The car swerved as Roy took his eyes off the road to stare down Edward's glare, and Edward had to grip the car door to keep himself steady.

“And tell me, what would that have done?!” Edward stared right back with a mixture of stubbornness and anger.

“I would have sent someone down to help you!” He snapped, unable to keep the anger and annoyance from his tone this time. “Or I would have come down myself!”

Edward waved him off incredulously, rolling his eyes. “Yeah right Colonel. Stop acting like you would have taken me seriously enough to leave your precious throne in East City.”

The car was bearing down on a red light, and Roy slammed on the breaks, causing both of them to lurch forward. A tiny bit of guilt wormed its way through his fury as he saw Edward wince, but he didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he wiped around with such ferocity that even Edward’s eyes grew wide for a moment.

“When have I ever NOT taken you seriously?!” He barked, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “It is my duty as your superior officer to make sure you stay safe, which means believing you when you say you need help!”

Edward faltered a little, looking down at his mismatched hands. “Because I’m too important of a pawn for you to lose, right?”

Roy threw his hands up, clapping them back down on the steering wheel with a loud smack. He swallowed back a nasty retort. “No, Edward,” he hissed quietly. “It’s because I care about your wellbeing. Is that so hard to believe?!”

Edward just stared at him, and Roy started back, until the trance was broken by a car honking at them from the back. The light had turned green, and Roy was holding up the line. With a huff, he pushed on the gas, turning back to face the road. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Edward grimace, trying to discreetly rub his side.

Roy sighed internally, suddenly exhausted. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, keeping the other one on the wheel. That was not at all how he planned that discussion. All he really wanted to do was scold Edward for not asking for help and tell him that next time, he needed to call, and leave it at that. He didn’t mean for it to turn into a screaming match.

Yet, it seemed to happen almost every time the two of them got together. He didn’t know why, but Edward loved pushing his buttons and insulting him, and for some reason, he really let it get under his skin. He knew it was childish, falling for a teenager's taunts, but he couldn’t help it sometimes.

Was it really so hard for Edward to believe that Roy cared about him beyond him being a pawn?

Edward was staring out the car window, refusing to look at Roy. He had his arms wrapped tightly around his chest, probably trying to ease the aching in his ribs. Guilt flooded Roy’s own chest as he realized it was probably his fault for slamming on the breaks. God, why couldn’t anything with this kid go right?

After a few more moments of tense silence, Roy fished the pill bottle out of his pants, giving it a glance. He held it out to Edward. He wanted to squash the tension between the two of them before he dropped him off at the dorms, and being the adult, he decided to extend the olive branch.

Edward glanced at the bottle in Roy’s hand, before deciding to ignore it in favor of looking out the window once more. Roy sighed.

“I know you don’t like pills,” he began, watching Edward for a reaction. Nothing. “But I put in your charts a while ago that they weren’t to give you any medicine that made you sleepy.”

Edward looked at him this time, although his expression was still guarded. Roy waved the bottle enticingly. “I want you to take one. You look like you don’t feel so great.” Roy made his voice considerably softer.

Edward took the waving bottle, and with a pout, gingerly popped one of the pills in his mouth, swallowing it with a grunt. He still remained silent, although he was no longer relooking out the window.

Roy tried again. “If your ribs hurt, which I know they do, wrap them like you did before. I don’t think it’ll take much, considering how tiny you are.”

That got his attention. He whipped his head up to look at Roy with a scowl. “Who are you calling so small he only needs two inches of cloth to wrap his ribs?” He spat, but there was no anger behind it this time.

It wasn’t his best response, but Roy was willing to let it pass. Instead, he turned into the dorm parking lot, more considerate of Edward’s ribs this time. He parked the car as close as possible to the dorm entrance.

“Since your healing,” he said as Edward unbuckled, “I want your report by Friday. That’s three days.”

Edward looked at him in mock shock, eyes comedically wide. “Ah, come on! My ribs are broken! Can’t I have a break from reports?”

Roy allowed himself to grin slightly at Edwards sudden mood change. “That’s why I’m giving you three days instead of one.” He pointed out.

‘Alright, fine.” Edward said as he opened the car door and stepped out, tucking the pill bottle in his pants pocket. He shivered slightly at the cold air, rubbing his flesh hand against his neck.

“Take one of those pills every six hours.” Roy instructed before Ed would slam the door shut. He nodded.

“And Edward? Call me if you need anything.”

Edward waved him off, looking in the other direction. “Yeah yeah. See ya Bastard,”

The car door slammed shut, and Roy allowed himself a few minutes to sit in the parking lot, if only to allow himself to warm up. He watched Edward slowly make his way up the building, open the door, and disappear from sight. He stayed a couple seconds more, watching the door.

Once he was warmed up, and sure that Edward would be coming back out, he shook his head, pulling out the parking lot. It was about time to pick up Hawkeye from work anyway, and he was sure she had a bundle of paperwork for him to do.

He allowed himself one last look in the general direction of Edward’s dorm before exiting the parking lot with one final thought.

Edward, I hope that one day we can understand each other.

Chapter Text

“Sir. Come back to work,”

Hawkeye's stern tone made Roy freeze from where he stood by the coffee machine.  He fiddled with the coffee mug in his hand, keeping his gaze on the silver and black machine in front of him.  He could feel Hawkeye’s gaze burning into his back, and he swallowed back a grin.

It was nine o’clock on a frigid Friday morning, and Roy had gotten absolutely nothing done.  Hawkeye had excused his procrastination for about an hour, but after Roy had made his rounds from his office, to Falman’s desk to discuss dogs, to the coffee machine in the main office, she seemed to be ready to put her foot down.

Roy had argued on the way to work that he wouldn’t be able to get anything done while he waited for Edward’s check in, but Hawkeye merely closed the door in his face with a neutral expression.  Even now, as she chastised him for hanging near the coffee machine, her expression remained calm.

Roy shuffled his feet, trying not to appear amused as he waved his half full mug in her general direction.  “I’m making coffee,” he said innocently, and he heard the team chuckling behind him.

“You’ve been at the coffee machine for the past thirty minutes,” Hawkeye pointed out, and Roy could feel the gazes of the rest of the team as they watched.  “I’m sure your drink is done by now,”

The Colonel turned around to see his Lieutenant leaning forward, elbows propped up against her desk, her reading glasses pushed up against her nose.  Her mid length hair was twisted up into a bun, and her neutral expression had slipped into one of mild exasperation.  Roy couldn’t resist a smirk at her serious demeanor.

“I’m making some for Fuery as well,” he defended himself, hastily picking up a second mug from the counter and waving it in her direction.  Fuery’s head shot up at the mention of his name, a confused and rather skittish expression stitched onto his face.

He looked to Hawkeye, who just raised an eyebrow, pointing to Fuery with her pen.  “Master Sergeant Fuery doesn’t drink coffee,” she stated, and the rest of the team gasped dramatically while Roy stopped short, the liquid in his mug sloshing around, “Or had you forgotten?”

Roy cringed, stuttering for a moment, and Breda snorted from behind his own drink.  He shot the man a glare, who just shielded his face and gave an amused glance to Havoc, who made no attempt to hide his own amusement.  Roy then desperately looked to Fuery for back-up, who looked both terrified and bemused that he had been dragged into one of Roy and Riza’s daily arguments.

He looked to Hawkeye for reassurance, and she shook her head at him.  Fuery seemed to relax ever so slightly, and he turned to Roy, shrugging his shoulders sheepishly.

“I don’t, Colonel,”

Roy facepalmed as his plan deteriorated, and the rest of the team burst out into loud laughter.  Roy attempted to shoot all of them with a heated glare, trying to shut them up, but they paid him no mind, only laughing harder at his expense.  Lieutenant Hawkeye seemed satisfied with herself, leaning back in her chair.

Roy looked away, muttering something under his breath as he took a swing from his now cold cup of coffee, leaning against the counter that held the coffee machine.  Hawkeye shot a glance at his still laughing team, and they quieted a bit, although Havoc was still snickering behind his hand.

She then turned back to look at Roy, and he raised his free hand in defeat, stalking back to his inner office, having successfully wasted thirty minutes of work.  His black coat swished behind him as he headed towards the door.

Before he shut the door, Hawkeye spoke again, although her eyes were now trained on her paperwork.  “You know,” she said rather sweetly, “You still haven’t turned in the paperwork you missed Tuesday when you picked Edward up from the hospital,”

Roy winced, craning his head around the doorway to look at her.  “It’s due today, is it not?” He guessed, hoping he was right.

“Wednesday morning, actually,” Hawkeye corrected, perhaps a bit too innocently.

The team once again erupted into laughter, and even Hawkeye allowed a small smile to grace her features, although she continued to work on her paperwork.  Roy slammed the door in mock fury, groaning in annoyance.

As Roy found out a little bit later, his actions have consequences, and he ended up having to work through lunch to get caught up on his paperwork.  He would glance at the phone on occasion, wondering if he should call Edward to check up on him.  He did tell him that his report wasn’t due until the end of the work day, and it was extraordinarily common for Edward to arrive last minute, but he couldn’t help the tiny bit of worry that wormed its way through his stomach.

He managed to ignore it until Hawkeye arrived after lunch, bringing him a ham sandwich from the cafeteria.  She sat with him while he ate it, allowing him to take a brief monitored break.  She inquired about Edward, but Roy just told her the same thing he told himself.  He wasn’t due until the end of the day, and Edward was notorious for being late.

His Lieutenant seemed satisfied with his answer, dumping another set of documents for summarizing on his desk.  She took his meager pile of finished paperwork and informed him that the newest set was due by tonight, ignoring Roy’s pouting as filed away his finished work.

A couple of hours after lunch, when Havoc informed him he was leaving for a smoke break, Roy tried to join him, claiming he needed fresh air.  Hawkeye shoved him back into his office with the threat of soaking all his ignition gloves if he continued to ignore his “time sensitive” documents.  Roy threatened to demote her.

Edward still hadn’t shown by this point.  The small bit of worry that fluttered in his stomach was only growing, despite his logical attempts to explain why his Major hadn’t shown yet.  Edward still had about three hours before he was needed, and he was sure Edward was just pushing his luck.  That was all.

His hand cramped painfully, and he took a quick break from his rapid signing to wave it in the air to soothe the ache.  Roy gave a glare to the documents on his desk, which he now only had very little time to finish, thanks to his morning antics.  He thought about shoving the less important files in his desk drawer, but he knew that Hawkeye would not let him get away with that.  Not again.

After about an hour and a half of cycling through pacing around his office, signing paperwork with a surprising ferocity, and flicking pens off his desk, a skittish Fuery entered the office, escorted by Hawkeye.  Roy immediately stood up straighter, focusing his attention on the document in front of him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hawkeye nod at Fuery, who nervously approached his desk.  He asked if he could leave, as he had recovered a phone call from his mother asking for his help moving into her new apartment.

Roy leaned back, fiddling his pen in his hand, contemplating his options.  After a few moments of silence, he decided to chuck his pen at Fuery, knocking him on the forehead.  Fuery’s face grew into one of shock, and he rubbed his forehead in confusion.

Roy laughed, throwing back his head, before waving Fuery off and telling him he could leave.  Hawkeye gave him a pursed look as Fuery left, and she patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.  Roy just cocked his head innocently.

“You really need to stop tormenting your coworkers,” she chastised, approaching his desk.  Roy just pouted.

“You know, this is entirely your fault, Lieutenant,” he argued, running his fingers through his hair.  “If you had let me leave with Havoc on that smoke break, I wouldn’t need to resort to such antics,”

Hawkeye just rolled her eyes, making the mature decision to not engage.  Instead, she gestured for him to follow her, and Roy jumped out of his seat like an excited child, following her to the main office.  She stopped by her desk, pointing to a file.

Roy backed away dramatically, immediately regretting his decision to follow Hawkeye.  “No more paperwork,” he insisted, shaking his head.  Hawkeye just smacked the file against his chest.

“It’s not MORE paperwork.  This is from yesterday,”

Roy cocked an eyebrow, taking the file.  “What about it, then?”

“You didn’t even sign half of it,”

His face fell, and he heaved a sigh.  “Why didn’t you just hand it to me in the office?”

Hawkeye gestured to the rest of the team, who was watching the interaction intently.  “I thought maybe some moral support would encourage you to finish it,”

“Yeah Colonel, let us support you!” Breda jeered.  “We all know you gave a very hard time signing your forms!”

“Especially our break forms!” Havoc piped up, not wanting to be left out of the teasing.

Roy narrowed his eyes at him.  “Your job is your break.  From poverty,”

Havoc dramatically placed his hand over his heart, looking wounded.  Falman, who had remained mostly uninvolved in the team's antics, gave Havoc an understanding pat on the head.

Hawkeye pushed Roy down into a chair she had set by her desk, shoving a pencil in his hand.  Roy signed, rubbing his eyes with his free hand, before grabbing the document and carding through it once again.

Hawkeye tapped the end of her pen on the corner of the desk, looking up at the clock.  It was only about an hour before work was over.  Out of the corner of his eye, Roy could see that she was concerned, with worry lines painted onto her face and the way she would brush her hair behind her ear on occasion.  She was so focused on watching the ticking clock that she didn’t notice his staring.  It worried him.

He poked her shoulder gently with the end of his pen, raising his eyebrow in a question.  She only gave him a brief, tight smile, before gesturing back down to his paperwork.  He continued his signing for a moment, but he couldn’t help stealing another glance at her.

She had rested her head against her hand, using her pen to twirl her blonde hair absentmindedly.  The collar of her uniform was digging into her chin, but she paid it no mind.  Her soft brown eyes were trained on the clock, shifting occasionally to gaze back down at her desk.

Again, he poked him with the tip of his pen.  Before she could tell him to focus, he spoke.

“What’s wrong?” He asked quietly, sliding the now-finished file towards her.

Hawkeye shook her head, knowing better than to lie to Roy about how she was feeling.  “When should we be expecting Edward?”

Ah, the boy, Roy realized.  Hawkeye’s own concerns reigniting his worry surrounding the Major.  He had been so occupied with Hawkeye that he had completely forgotten Edward was supposed to show up very soon.  He shot a quick glance at the clock.

“Whenever he decides to show, I guess.  His report isn’t due until the end of the day,” Which, granted, was in less than thirty minutes, but Roy didn’t comment on that.

“How is he?” She asked, her voice laced with a soft tone he rarely ever heard.

“I think he’s fine,” Roy reassured her, nudging her with his shoulder.  “I even called him yesterday to see if he needed another day on his report and he said he was doing good,”

“That’s awfully generous of you, sir.”

To his surprise, Hawkeye gently rested her shoulder against his.  Roy placed a hand on her upper arm, looking over her head to avoid any stares.  He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, and his face felt hot.

Hawkeye’s hair just barely brushed the underside of his chin, and he shivered very slightly, resisting the urge to rest his chin on her head.  Hawkeye very rarely, if ever, displayed this type of affection towards anyone, and he didn’t want to ruin it.

He stuttered for a minute, trying to figure out how to answer her question, sure he looked like a flustered mess.  It was quiet in the room, and he could hear her breathing gently from where she rested gently against him.

However, before he could string together an intelligible sentence, Havoc broke the moment.

“Yeah, why don’t you ever do that for me Colonel?”

Roy shot him a glare as Hawkeye moved, no longer caring about the redness on his face.  “When you break your ribs, give me a call and I’m sure we can work something out,”

Havoc huffed good-naturedly, turning back to his work.  Hawkeye rested her back against her chair, giving a glance to the finished file on her desk.

“Are you sure you finished it this time?”

He nodded, and Hawkeye placed the file in a drawer.  “Then you can head back to your office to finish you overdue paperwork,”

Roy groaned.  “You know, when I asked you to shoot me in the back if I got off course, this isn’t what I meant,”

Hawkeye didn’t look back at him, although he could see a glint of a grin in her eyes.  “Back to work, sir,”

He didn’t argue with her, unwilling to stay after work for a second time in one week.  Back in his inner office, he scribbled away at his files ignoring how sloppy his signature grew with the more papers he signed.

When the clock struck seven o’clock and Roy had just managed to finish all his work, he turned to the phone on his desk, ready to give Edward a call to ask why his report was late when he confirmed yesterday that he could get it in on time.

He stared at the phone for a minute, wondering what exactly he should say to the boy.  He didn’t want the conversation to turn into what had happened on the way back from the hospital.  He didn’t think he could handle a screaming match with his Major this late in the day.

Just before he reached for the phone, deciding to just go for it, the doorknob to his office turned slowly.  He waited, expecting to see Hawkeye walk in wondering about Edward and why he hadn’t shown up.  Instead, a red clad figure entered the office instead, and Roy sat upright.

Immediately, he could tell something was wrong with him.  He hadn’t kicked in the door like he normally did, and he was walking very slowly and gingerly, with one arm tight against his stomach.

His face was flushed and pale, and his expression was tight with pain.  The closer he got to Roy’s desk, he could see the bright sheen of sweat against his brow.  Edward wiped his forehead with his sleeve before stopping in front of the desk.  Even from this distance, Roy could hear him breathing quickly but raggedly.

The worry in his stomach skyrocketed from what it had been early in the day.  He regretted not calling the kid earlier.

“Hello Fullmetal.  You certainly took your time,” he jabbed, hoping to get a reaction beyond Edward’s vacant starting and wheezing breaths.

Edward only rolled his eyes before fishing out his folded report, flopping it on the desk.

Roy glanced at it, suddenly not caring at all about Edward’s report, and gestured to the couch.  “Take a seat,”

“Why?” Edward croaked, his voice scratching against his throat.  Roy raised an eyebrow, and Edward turned away, rubbing his throat.

“In case I have questions.  Now sit,”

Instead of arguing further, Edward just flopped onto the couch tiredly.  Roy examined him, fear and anxiety spiking in his chest as he took in his Major’s sick and exhausted state.  Edward just raised his eyebrows at him, pointing to the report on Roy’s desk.

Roy furrowed his eyebrows, looking back down at the report.  “Did you spill something on this?” He questioned, noticing a light stain amongst the scrawled handwriting.

Edward just shrugged his shoulders, then winced.  “Just be happy I turned it in at all,”

Roy rolled his eyes, pretending to look down at the report.  In reality, he was listening to Edward and watching him out of the corner of his eye.  Occasionally, Edward would rub his throat, or his face would grow red and his veins would pop like he was holding in a cough.  Even from here, Roy could hear his labored breathing.

He turned the page on the report, and Edward coughed violently into his elbow.  Roy winced himself hearing how the cough grated against Edward’s already hurt throat, and his chest heaved painfully in tune with the hacking.

He waited for Edward to be finished, resting his chin on his interlocked fingers.  Edward hacked a few more times into his elbow, his face as red as his jacket and more sweat dripping down his face.

“That’s a nasty cough,” Roy commented once Edward was finished, who just looked down at his feet tiredly.  “Are you feeling alright?”  He asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’m fine,” Edward lied quietly, his voice scratchy.  “Can I leave now?

Roy pondered that for a moment.  Edward, who had insisted he was fine the day before, was now in his office with a pale complexion, nasty cough, and sweaty face.  Had he missed something over the phone call?  Had he not been taking his medicine, even with the knowledge that wouldn’t make him sleepy? 

Why can’t I understand what’s going on in your head?

For some reason, Roy felt like he had failed Edward.  Not just with him getting sick despite the precautions he had taken, but also the mission he had sent him on only a couple days prior, and the knowledge that Edward was only in the military because he offered him the position.  It was entirely his fault Edward was sitting in his inner office, hacking his lungs out.

Sometimes, he wondered if he made the right decision allowing him to be a State Alchemist.

Instead of spilling out his worries onto his sick Major, Roy instead shook his head.  “Let me check your ribs first,”

Edward signed in annoyance, sinking back into the couch.  “I don’t NEED you to check my ribs,”

Roy ignored his protest, standing up and walking around his desk.  He swiped away the finished files sitting there, and patted the top of the polished oak.  “Just humor me, alright?  Come sit here,”

Edward grumbled, but otherwise complied.  His complancy just worried Roy even more.  Even on the way back from the hospital, Edward had enough strength to argue with him about everything.  Now he seemed completely sapped of any desire to fight him.

His Major gingerly walked over to the front of the desk, rubbing his hand along the smooth wood.  He rocked on the balls of his feet, hesitating.  Roy was confused at first, but then realized that it was probably too painful with his broken ribs, and whatever else was going on, to hoist himself up on the desk.

Roy thought about telling him to sit back down on the couch and examine him there, but he knew it would be difficult to get a good look at the boy if he had to kneel down to be eye level with him.

He could also pull up his desk chair and have him climb up that way, but that would probably be just as painful as hoisting himself up.  Roy rubbed his face, taking a deep breath, hoping Edward didn’t feel well enough to punch his nose in.

“Why don’t you let me pick you up?” He proposed, and he could practically feel Edward’s fiery gaze burning into him.  He sighed, adding onto his statement.  “Not because I think you can’t do it.  It would just aggravate your ribs less,”

Edward seemed to consider this for a moment.  His angry gaze dampened a bit, although it was still very obviously present.  After a few moments of tense silence, Edward relented, raising his arms in an almost childish way so Roy could pick him up.

Roy lifted him by the armpits, and he could immediately feel the heat radiating from his skin, even through the fabric covering his torso.  Edward breathed in sharply as Roy rested him on the desk, and worry threatened to overtake every other emotion that Roy had.

“Take off your jacket,” He told him, and Edward complied, shrugging off his red coat.  “Have you been taking your medicine?”

Ed nodded as Roy pressed his hand to Edward’s forehead.  It was clammy and uncharacteristically hot to the touch, and Edward almost seemed to lean into the cold touch of Roy’s hand.  Roy frowned, lowering his hand to check the pulse in his neck, and was alarmed to feel his heartbeat jamming erratically against his fingers.

Roy ran his hands over Edward’s wrapped chest, checking for swelling and angry bruising.  To his relief, they seemed much better than the last time he saw Edward, with the bruising he could see a sickly green color with the occasional light purple.

He checked the wounds on his arms, looking for signs of infection that could be causing Edward’s sickness, but the lacerations were clean and scabbed over.  He probed the edges of them for any excess heat or swelling, but there was none.

He then pressed his ear to Edward’s chest to check his breathing.  Edward drew back for a moment, and Roy placed a hand on his back to steady him.  He stiffened, but let Roy listen.  Edward’s lungs crackled loudly with each inhale, and after a few moments of listening, Edward coughed again.

Roy drew away as memories washed over him.  One was of a young boy, barely older than seventeen, leaning over a cot in the medical tent, coughing up mucus and sand.  His chest was wrapped tightly in dirtied bandages, his blue pants covered in blood and grit.  He begged for the medics to help him, who could only offer water.

Another was a woman, eyes sunken and dark from lack of sleep, who coughed so violently and so often that her throat was rubbed raw, and bloody salvia would drip out of her mouth.  Her body radiated heat, and she eventually grew delirious and cried for her mother before dying.

Then there was an Isvhalan child, with ragged white hair and wide red eyes, that had stumbled into camp with a nasty cough and complained of pain in his chest.  His chest had been wrapped in a similar fashion to Edward’s, with the bandages stained in blood and dirt, and he was delirious with fever.  Roy remembered causing a distraction so Hughes could sneak him out.

To this day, he had no idea if the child had survived, but the memory of the Ishvalan child reminded all too much of Edward.

“You have a fever,” Roy said, swallowing back the roughness in his voice.  “How long have you been like this?”

Edward shrugged.  “Dunno.  Two days or so.  It’s just the weather, messes with the automail.”  He pointed to his mechanical arm.

“Last time I checked,” Roy said, wiping Edward’s forehead with his sleeve, “Automail aches don’t come with crackling lungs and high fever,”

Edward glowered, shoving Roy’s hand away.  “How would you know?”

“Ever since I read up on automail patients after you visited Ms. Rockbell for your latest repair,”

“Didn’t know you were such a font of knowledge, Mustang,” The boy muttered, a hint of irritation to his tone.

Roy ignored him, instead heading over to his office door.  “Stay here,” he commanded roughly.  “I’m getting Hawkeye,”

“What?!  Why?!” Edward spluttered, before being cut off by a hacking cough.

“I need her to confirm a suspicion,” he responded thickly.

I need her to tell me I’m not being paranoid.

Hawkeye would understand why he was freaking out the way he was.  Hawkeye would be able to analyze the situation in a calm, rational way like she always did and provide a plan, because Hawkeye was there with him when it happened.  She saw what he saw.  She would understand.

Hawkeye always understood.

She was already waiting patiently at her desk, polishing her pistol with a rag, something she only ever did when she was anxious.  Roy noticed that Falman, Havoc, and Breda had already left, realizing that work had ended almost fifteen minutes ago.

He made eye contact with her, and she nodded in understanding.  She holstered her pistol, stuffing the rag in her pocket, and followed Roy back into his inner office.

At once, she made her way over to Edward, going through all the same tests Roy had done.  Roy leaned against his desk as Hawkeye progressed from Edward’s chest to his arms, to his heartbeat to his breathing.  Her features grew from suspicious to concerned, her eyes crinkling.

Hawkeye pulled her head away from Edward’s chest, who’s face had gone red from embarrassment, and she turned to Roy, nodding her head.  Roy felt his heart drop into his stomach.

“It's pneumonia, isn’t it?”  He said at last, his voice tight.

“That’s what it looks like,” Hawkeye said softly.

“Um, hello?” Edward’s croaky voice interrupted, waving his hand in Roy’s direction, and Roy’s gaze snapped back to him.  “Yeah, I’m still here.  Can I go now?”

“No,” both Roy and Hawkeye said in unison, and Edward’s eyes widened at their serious tones. Hawkeye placed a hand on his shoulder.  “You need to go to the hospital,”

“Absolutely not!” Edward hissed.  “There is nothing wrong with me!  I am complete - “ an aggressive, painful cough cut him off, and he winced, rubbing his throat.  “Ok, so maybe I am sick,” he admitted, notably more hoarse.  “But I don’t need to go to the hospital,”

“Yes, you do,” Hawkeye insisted, her tone stern.  “You needed to be watched.  Pneumonia can get dangerous very quickly,”

“How would you know?” Edward asked, scowling.

“We saw it a lot in Ishval,” Roy added quietly, and Hawkeye gave him a knowing, yet kind look.  “It’s common with chest injuries, especially if you wrap them.  The weather probably didn’t help either.  I agree with Hawkeye, you need to go to the hospital,”

Edward’s expression grew into one of panic.  “What about Alphonse?  He can watch me, can’t he?  He doesn’t even need to sleep!”

Hawkeye shook her head, her eyes hard.  “Alphonse can’t check you for fever, and you and I both know that it is unfair to ask that of him.  He is just a child, like you,”

Edward wilted, and Roy felt a surge of pity in his chest.  Edward was reminding him too much of a young child, with his sick, pale face and wide golden eyes.  Edward sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve, and Hawkeye patted his hand kindly.

It bothered him, seeing Edward so visibly upset over the idea of a hospital.  He knew Edward’s most prominent memory of hospitals was when he got his automail surgery, so he understood why he hated them so much, and he didn’t want to force him into a situation he knew would scare him.

But he also knew Hawkeye was right.  Edward needed to be watched by an adult to make sure he didn’t grow worse.  And, to his surprise, Roy didn’t feel comfortable letting him out of his sight in this state.  So, carding his fingers through his hair, he took a deep breath.

“He can stay with me, if he wants,” He suggested.  As he proposed it, both Edward and Hawkeye swung their heads to look at him, eyes alight with surprise.  Roy shifted his weight, avoiding their intense gazes.  “If he would prefer that over the hospital, I mean,”

Edward looked ready to protest once again, but Hawkeye leaned back against the desk, seemingly considering it.  She gazed at Roy, a question in her eyes.

Are you ready to take care of him?

Roy didn’t know if he was. He didn’t know if staying with him was better than being in a hospital.  But he did know that he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he forced Edward into what might be a traumatizing situation when he could provide a spot for his Major.

So, he shoved down the doubt, and looked back at Hawkeye with a determined look.

I am.

Hawkeye nodded, turning back to Edward.  “Alright.  You have a choice now.  You can stay with the Colonel, or you can go to the hospital.  Choose wisely,”

Edward looked from Roy to Hawkeye, from Hawkeye to Roy, his mouth slightly agape.  A couple of seconds of awkward silence later, he threw his head back in defeat.  

“Oh my God.  Fine.  I’ll stay with the Colonel,”

“Good choice,” Hawkeye stated.  “I trust you have the situation under control then, sir?”

“Of course,” Roy said, surprised at how steady his voice was.  “It’ll be just fine,”

“In that case, I’m headed home.  Falman’s waiting for me in his car,” She gave one last glance to Edward as she left.  “I hope you feel better soon,”

Edward just grunted in response, swinging his feet.  Once she was gone, he grabbed Roy’s phone, typing in a number.  He glared at him, as if he was expecting him to rip the phone from his hands.

“I need to use this,”

Roy just nodded as the phone rang.  Edward held it up to his ear as a tinny voice rang through the speakers.  Even with his sickly face, a bit of light sparked in his eyes at the sound.

“Hey Al!” Edward said, and Roy could tell he was trying to keep the hoarseness out of his voice.  “I’m staying with the Colonel over the weekend.  Yeah, I’ve got pneumonia or something.  No, I’m fine.  Hawkeye and the Colonel are just being paranoid.  No, I don’t need you to come with me.  Follow up on that lead we found, ok?  Alright, thanks Al,”

“Al can come with us if he wants to,” Roy reassured Edward, who looked less than thrilled at the idea.

“No, I don’t want him to baby me.  Plus, we need someone to follow up on that lead,”

You don’t want him to see you being weak, Roy guessed, although he didn’t say it out loud.  Even if he didn’t quite understand how Edward worked, he could at least understand wanting to appear strong in front of others, especially those you felt you needed to protect.

Roy picked up his phone to make his own phone call.  While dialing the number to a familiar residence, he pointed to the couch with his head.

“We’ll head to the apartment in just a minute.  Meanwhile, you can rest on the couch,”

Edward carefully slid off the desk as the other end of the phone clicked.  A gruff and irritated voice answered it, and Roy couldn’t help but grin.

“Who the hell is it?”

“Hey, Dr. Knox.  It’s Roy,” He answered quietly.

Dr. Knox mumbled something he couldn’t quite pick up.  “What the hell do you want?”

“I need to know how to treat pneumonia,” Roy told him meekly, and the voice sighed.

Chapter Text

Dr. Knox talked rapidly over the phone, overloading Roy with information on Edward’s condition.  According to him, Edward had likely developed a bacterial infection in his lungs that caused his pneumonia.  When Roy had asked him what caused it, he said it could have been the wrappings, the weather, an underlying illness, or a combination of all three.  Regardless of how he contracted it, he would need to take antibiotics to get better.

The doctor told Roy he would stop by later that night with antibiotics and pain medication for Edward to take.  While Roy spoke with him, Edward had collapsed onto the couch with his eyes screwed shut in a pained grimace.  Now that the secret was out that he was sick, he no longer seemed to be hiding just how fatigued he felt, letting his automail arm hang limply over the armrest and not bothering to  cover up his coughs.  He gave no impression he was listening to Roy's as he rambled to Dr. Knox

After the call, Roy took a couple of minutes to gather some necessary paperwork for the weekend, if only to allow Edward to rest for a couple of moments longer.    He hadn’t moved the entire time that Roy spoke and bustled about his office, and he thought he might have been asleep.  With a bundle of paperwork in hand, Roy went to give Edward a gentle pat on the shoulder to wake him up, but he opened his eyes before he could do so, blinking tiredly.

Roy offered his hand to help him off the couch, but Edward waved him off.  He gingerly pushed himself off the couch, wincing slightly when he put weight onto his automail leg.  He adjusted his weight and rubbed his eyes with his flesh hand before slowly following Roy out of his office.  He walked with a slight limp, and Roy added it to the mental list of things to check up on once they got to the apartment. 

The walk down through the office building and outside to the car took about twice as long as normal.  Edward needed to stop every couple of minutes or so to take a couple of wheezing breaths, or to leave against the wall while he coughed up phlegm and spit.  Roy stood next to him awkwardly, unsure if he should offer comfort or not.    It made him extremely uncomfortable to see how violently Edward’s body shook with each cough, or how he would gasp painfully each time he leaned all of his weight against the wall.

Every logical part of Roy screamed to do something to help his Major.  He reflected back to when he was sick as a child and what others would do for him.  His foster mother would pat him comfortably on the back when coughed, and his foster sisters would sit with him when he heaved his guts into the toilet.  As an adult, Maes or Hawkeye would drop food by or offer words of comfort or encouragement.  Roy contemplated offering a hand on the shoulder, as didn’t like seeing Edward and pain and doing nothing to console him.

But Roy wasn’t sure if that was something he should do with Edward, or something Edward would even allow him to do.  The Major had only ever let Hawkeye or Maes display any sort of parental feelings, and even then it was limited.  Alphonse was the only person Roy had ever seen Edward allow to explicitly show concern for.  Edward actually liked those people, and Edward did not like him, so he assumed that any sort of consolation he tried to give would be received with harsh backlash.

After the third stop, Roy decided to test the waters, unwilling to stand there and do nothing while Edward was in obvious pain.  He placed a hand on Edwards' back during his coughing fit to help still him.  Edward tensed, and Roy immediately drew his hand away, not wanting to cause him anymore discomfort than he was already experiencing.  He was about to apologize awkwardly, his mind racing.

But Edward shook his head at the loss of contact, looking almost disappointed, and wheezed out an “It’s fine.”  He started coughing again, and Roy let himself place his hand back in the comforting gesture.  He knew Edward was only letting him because he was sick, exhausted, and in pain, which was enough to make anyone drop their guard, but he still felt somewhat touched that Edward was doing it in front of HIM.  He was surprised by the warm flutter he felt at the thought that Edward was allowing him, of all people, to comfort him.

However, as lovely as the warmth in his chest made him feel, it didn’t do anything to curb the bitter chill that cut through Edward and his skin once they stepped outside.  Edward audibly gasped and curled into himself, grasping at the edges of his red jacket to try and cover every inch of his exposed skin.  Roy rubbed his hands together to warm them, half tempted to pull out his ignition gloves and start a hot blaze to save them both from the angry cold.

He pushed away the thought, even as the wind picked up and he found himself shoving his hands inside his pockets, allowing the heavy fabric of his black overcoat to block them from the wind.  He looked back to Edward, who was starting to fall behind, and found him shivering furiously, teeth chattering wildly.  His red jacket was doing nothing to protect him from the cold.  His coat was a fashion statement, not a true jacket, and the fabric was thin.

God, he’s probably frozen, Roy realized sharply as Edward tried rewrapping his red jacket around him, limping more noticeably.  Roy felt the fabric of his own jacket, suddenly feeling both very guilty and stupid that he hadn’t noticed Edward’s situtation as soon as they walked out the doors.  He stopped, shrugging off the black overcoat, and placed it over Edward’s shoulders. The boy almost melted into the newfound warmth, closing his eyes briefly and tucking the jacket tighter around him.  He fumbled with the lapels of the overcoat, looking at Roy.

“Won’t you be cold?”  He asked hoarsely.

Roy WAS notably colder, but he made a conscious effort to stop shivering to prove to Edward that he was fine.  His blue jacket was insulated anyway, much more than Edward’s red one had been, and he would be fine on the way to the car.  He wasn’t sure if his nose or ears would make it though, and he cursed himself for parking as far away as he had that morning.

“No, my uniform jacket works well enough,”

It had been chilly that morning, but it was absolutely nothing compared to how the wind had picked up now.  It had to be less than 30 degrees with the wind chill, making his ears throb painfully as he and Edward hurried their way to the car.  If he had known it would get this bad later in the day, he would have parked much closer to the entrance.

Once they had made it into the car, Roy breathed a sigh of relief, slamming the driver door shut to block out the bitter cold.  Edward had squirreled himself into Roy’s black overcoat, breathing heavily, lungs rattling, and rubbed his nose against the collar of the coat.  His face was freakishly pink compared to pallor that had been present before.  The sight of him now, eyes half lidded in exhaustion and mouth ajar, was a direct opposite from how he was when Roy took him back from the hospital.

He turned the key in the ignition, and the car roared to life.  Roy pulled out of the parking lot, careful to keep his turns slow and consistent.  The heat kicked on after a few moments, and Roy tuned it up to the highest setting possible, turning the vent towards Edward.  It seemed to pull the kid out of his stupor, and he leaned forward slowly, putting his flesh hand in front of the vent.  His braid hung loosely and limply down his back, and his bangs seemed stuck to his temples with sweat, covering his tired eyes.

Roy had to resist the sudden urge to brush the sticky hair from Edward’s temples.  He knew that Edward would NOT be happy with that type of affection on any normal day, and even with him being fatigued and exhausted, he didn’t want to take the risk.  So instead, as Edward’s rattling lungs filled the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the car, Roy kept both hands on the steering wheel.

Edward rubbed his warmed hand against his reddened nose, trying to get some feeling back into it, before deciding to put his whole face in front of the vent.  Any other day, Roy would have scolded him for stealing all the heat, but seeing Edward’s content expression as the warm air filtered over his frigid features, Roy was more than willing to let him.  The boy was sick, tired, and freezing, and Roy wasn’t cruel enough to deny him the brief relief the heating did.

“You warmed up?” He asked about three minutes later, when Eward had moved to rest his cheek on the seat of the car.  His face was towards Roy, but his eyes were closed.

Edward hummed drunkenly in response.  The redness in his ears was already starting to go down, along with his pink tipped nose.  Roy wasn’t sure if he preferred the pale face or the artificial color from the cold.

When we get back to the apartment, we need to get him changed into something warmer .  I’m sure I have something laying around that would work.  I also need -

“Do you want the coat back?”

Edward’s quiet voice interrupted Roy’s rapid thinking. Roy stole a glance at the boy, seeing him cocooned up tightly in the black fabric, but refusing to look at him.  He noticed that he wrapped the thickest part of it around his shoulder port, probably to keep it from freezing his skin.  Roy felt a soft tug at the corner of his lips.  It was clear Edward was enjoying the warmth that the coat provided, but he also didn’t want to acknowledge he was thankful to Roy.

Roy was the exact same way when it came to things like that. He understood that Edward asking if he wanted the coat back was his way of saying thank you without outrightly admitting that he was grateful to his commanding officer, because it was the same thing Roy would do in his position.

“No, keep it.  I’m fine,”

Edward nuzzled his face back into the collar of the jacket, seemingly relieved, with a garling sigh.  “I didn’t know it could get so cold here,” He croaked.  “It’s nothing like this in Resembool,”

Roy chuckled softly.  “I didn’t know it could get cold like this either.  Apparently, it’s supposed to snow,”

“I thought that only happened in the North,”

“Guess not.  Honestly, it’s probably part of the reason you got sick.  If this doesn’t happen in Resembool, you’re not used to it, which means your body didn’t know how to react,”  He paused, taking a careful right turn.  “At least, that's what Dr. Knox said,”

“So it’s not my fault I got sick?”

Roy knitted his eyebrows together, confused.  “No.  Why would you think that?  Were you not taking your pills?”

Edward shook his head.  “No, I was.  I took them because I didn’t WANT to get sick,”

“Then why would it be your fault?”

Edward shrugged, sighing.  “I don’t know.  I thought maybe I did something wrong and screwed up the recovery,”

This damn kid. Roy realized in a flash, connecting the dots. No wonder he didn’t tell anyone!  The idiot was punishing himself because he thought he did something wrong.

Damn the kid and his ungodly guilt complex.

“So that’s why you didn’t tell anyone,” Roy stated, keeping his voice level.  “Not even Al.”

Edward looked puzzled.  “What?  What are you babbling about?”

“You thought it was your fault you were sick, so you decided that you had to deal with it alone.  You were punishing yourself,”

“That’s ridiculous!  No I wasn’t!!”

“Then why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because I thought it was the automail!”

Roy shook his head, keeping his tone low and calm.  Edward was only getting defensive because Roy was right, and getting angry with him would only make it worse.  “No you didn’t, because when I called you out on that you didn’t deny it,”

Edward crossed his arms, his mouth in a thin line.  “Whatever.  Stop being a hypocrite,” He muttered.

“What are you talking about?”  Roy looked at Edward’s defiant face, beamsued.

Edward rolled his eyes.  “You do the exact same thing.  With everything that happens, you take it upon yourself to fix it.  Like everything.  So don’t go coaching me on that type of stuff when you do it too,”

Any retort that Roy may have had grew dry on his tongue.  The kid wasn’t wrong, now that he thought about it.  But Roy hadn't noticed, or had chosen not to notice, all the times he had done the exact same thing Edward was doing to himself, even instances that his Major would have no knowledge of.

Was he not doing the exact same thing when it came to Ishval?

He turned down the street into his apartment complex, rapping his fingers on the steering wheel in thought.  I guess that’s one more thing I understand about him. I can’t get mad at him if I do the same thing.   There was a quiet noise next to him, but he ignored it in favor of trying to organize his thoughts.  But that doesn’t mean I should just allow him to do it.

Roy’s apartment loomed into view, and he eased up on the gas.  We don’t have the best relationship, but I need to let him know that he has to confide in someone when things like this pop up.  If Hawkeye and I hadn’t noticed what was going on, who knows what would have happened?  He could have been hospitalized, he could ruined his lungs for life, hell, he could have died-

A tap on his shoulder broke into his thoughts.    He looked over to see Edward leaned forward, poking at him with shaky fingers.  Edward’s eyebrows were lifted in a confused and nervous way.

“You still there, Colonel?”  His voice was tense and hesitant, eye’s narrowed slightly.

Roy shook his head, forcing himself to relax his face.  “Yeah, yeah.  Sorry.  Just got a bit lost in thought,”

“‘Bout what I said?”

“Just a little.  I was mostly thinking about what Dr. Knox said,” Roy lied, not wanting to add another thing to Edward’s ever growing guilt complex.  It wasn’t even his fault, anyway.

“Is it bad?  What the doctor said?”

“About the pneumonia?  It wasn’t bad, per se, but pneumonia is dangerous.  Dr. Knox thinks you have a bacterial infection in your lungs from the wrapping, which unfortunately is the harder one to recover from.  He’s going to drop by some antibiotics tonight,”

“Didn’t think pneumonia was such a big deal,” Edward mumbled, voice suddenly apprehensive, and he looked down at his mismatched hands.  His face was contorted with a worried expression, although Roy could tell he was trying to mask it.  Roy had to resist the urge to smack his forehead in frustration.  That was the absolute WORST thing he could have said to Edward in his current state.  He pulled into the parking spot closest to the apartment with a heavy sigh, resting his head on the steering wheel.

Edward rubbed his eyes with his hand before messing with the latch on the car door.  When it didn’t open, he turned to Roy with a sour expression, and Roy could see in his peripheral vision that his eyes were glossy with moisture.  As much as he tried to hide his fear at what Roy had said, the boy had never been good at hiding his true feelings.  Roy’s stomach twisted in guilt.

“Let me out,” Edward commanded harshly, pulling on the door handle.

“Edward,” Roy said softly, turning to look at him with the gentlest expression he could manage, keeping his temple on the steering wheel.

“What,”

“I know Hawkeye and I said pneumonia can be dangerous.  And we aren’t lying.  But you’re going to be ok.  I promise.  Kids your age have a great recovery rate.  It’s just going to suck for a few days.”  

Edward’s expression didn’t change, and Roy swallowed, wondering what else he could say to reassure him.  He didn’t want Edward to leave the car terrified, but he also didn’t want to screw up again like he had a couple of moments ago and say the wrong thing.

“Hey,” Roy said softly, poking Edward’s shoulder.  Edward glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, not looking at him but also not ignoring him.  “I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you.  Ok?”

At Roy’s words, Edward’s shoulders sagged, the tension leaving his face.  Roy let out a relieved breath at his changed demeanor, thanking whatever higher power that might exist.  Edward tugged once again at the door handle.   “What, did you think I was scared or something?” He asked, voice shaky.

Yes.  “No.  I’m just letting you know,”  The wind howled outside the door, and Roy winced.  “Make sure you're bundled,”

Thankfully, the stairs up to the fourth floor where Roy’s apartment blocked the majority of the freezing wind, and the slow five minute descent up the steps wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been.  Still, by the end of it, Roy’s hands still shook violently as he unlocked the door to his apartment to let them both in.

Edward tumbled in and immediately collapsed against Roy’s bookshelf, winded from the walk up.  He inhaled the stale, lukewarm air, gasping pitifully.  His chest swelled dramatically with each breath, and Roy kneeled next to him, keeping a hand on his shoulder.  Once his breathing turned into a more rhythmic tune, Roy stood up, making his way over to the thermostat.  The house wasn’t cold, but it could definitely be much warmer.

His apartment wasn’t large by any means.  It was modest and had everything he needed, but it would only fit one person comfortably, maybe two if he pushed it.  He knew he could afford something much nicer with his salary, but he liked his little home too much to move out.  He didn’t need anything bigger when he lived by himself anyway.

The apartment was single-floored, with the front door opening up in between the kitchen and the living room.  It was split down the middle into two separate sections.  Next to the front door on the left was a coat rack, where he hung his uniform jacket and black overcoat on.  Straight across from him were two doors, the one on the left leading to the bathroom and the one on his right to his bedroom. 

The kitchen on the left.  It had a single granite counter with a microwave tucked against the wall.    A small fridge was located on the other end, and the stove cut the counter in half.   He didn’t have a dishwasher, so he washed all the dishes by hand in the sink.  The cabinets above held the little dishes and canned food, and the single cupboard next to his sink held all the pots and pans.  The cleaning supplies were located underneath the sink in another cabinet.

He didn’t have a dining room, only a small round table located in front of his single-countered kitchen which separated it from the  living room.    He had three chairs, but only two had ever been used.  The one at the foot of the table was Roy’s, and the one adjacent to it had only even been occupied by Maes or Hawkeye, and occasionally someone from the team when they decided to crash.

The living room had only one reddish-brown couch that was big enough to lie down on with a messy coffee table in front of it.  He also had a well-used armchair that was starting to peel on the right of the couch, which was the same reddish-brown color.  A TV stand with a tiny TV that only worked if you smacked it right was set against the wall. The bookshelf that Edward was leaning against was next to the TV.  The carpet beneath all of it was a soft brown color and loosely piled.

‘When you want too,” Roy said, peeling off his black boots and tossing them by the door.  “You can hang up the coat on the rack.  You can put your red one there too,”

Edward nodded, starting to take off the black overcoat.  “Do you want me to take my shoes off too?”

“Nah, only if you want.  I keep mine by the door if you choose too,”

Edward finished struggling with the coat, and Roy made his way over to his room to card through his dresser to find some loose clothes for Edward to change into.  He had a couple of old shirts in his top drawer, but most were too big for the boy.  After a few moments of digging, Roy found some old black tops from when he was younger.  He pulled one out, examining it for holes and stains.

“You don’t have much in here, do ya?”  Edward observed from where he wandered in the living room, slowly swinging his head around.

“I’ve never needed much,” Roy decided that the top was good enough and threw it over on the bed.  “It’s just me,”

“Aren’t you lonely?” 

The statement made Roy halt in his searching, hands stilling for a moment, before dismissing the thought.  He did not have time to dwell on things like that.  In his second drawer, he found an old pair of pajama pants that Maes had gotten him as a joke, with a ridiculous pattern of sparks printed against soft blue fabric.  He tossed it onto the bed with the shirt.

“No, it’s not lonely,” His voice sounded much more forlorn than he meant it too, and he quickly amended it.  “I’m hardly home anyway,”

His Major said nothing, and Roy shut his drawer, satisfied with the clothing he had found. It would be a bit big on Edward, especially the pants, but they would work for now.  He threw the shirt and pants over his arm, and exited his room to see Edward sitting on the couch.  He had taken his shoes off and placed them next to Roy’s, and was resting his chin on his fist.  He patted the cushion of the couch when he saw Roy.

“I’m sleeping here, right?  I didn’t see another room,”

Roy tightened his jaw, thinking.  He hadn’t thought about the sleeping arrangements yet, only about getting Edward settled into the apartment.  It was true he didn’t have a second bedroom, and he did normally have guests sleep on the couch.  The couch wasn’t uncomfortable, Roy had slept on it several times before, but it probably wouldn’t be the best spot for someone who was sick as Edward.

The bed would be better for him in the long run, especially since he would need to elevate to sleep if he didn’t want to cough all night.

“The bed would be better for you,” He answered, smoothing the fabric that laid across his arm.  “You’re right that I don’t have a guest bedroom, but if you want to sleep in an actual bed, I can take the couch for the weekend,”

“Couch is fine,” Edward said quickly, dismissing the suggestion.  “Don’t need your dumb bed,”

Roy rolled his eyes, tossing the clothes at Edward’s head.  He squawked in indignation, and Roy snicker as Edward struggled to remove fabric from his head.  “Change into that.  I’m going to cook something for dinner,”

Edward pulled the fabric off his golden hair, scowling.  “I don’t want your clothes,”

“How funny,” Roy said, walking toward the kitchen.  “I don’t want to let you wear them,”

Edward stalked off towards the bathroom, but the way he limped dampened any attempt at anger Edward tried to show.  He was going to have to bring that up at some point during dinner.  Roy watched him go into the bathroom, kneeling down by the sink to grab a silver pot.  Once Edward shut the bathroom door, Roy turned his full attention back to making a small meal for dinner.  He knew Edward probably wouldn't be hungry, but he needed to stay hydrated, and Roy had an idea on how to get him to eat something.

Roy considered himself lucky that he had a can of chicken soup already tucked away in one of his cabinets, although he knew it would take some searching to find it.  He filled the silver pot halfway with water, allowing it to boil on the stove while he searched for the soup.  When he did find it, he peeled back the lid on the can, careful not to nick his finger.  He poured the contents into a ceramic bowl.

Waiting for the water to finish boiling, Roy made something for himself.  He wasn’t very hungry either, but he was trying to make a habit of not skipping dinner.  He didn’t often have time to cook any sort of homemade meal, so most of his meals consisted of stews that you could throw together and microwavable dinners.  The only time he would ever eat cooked meals would be when he had dinner with Maes every once in a while.

After some searching through the freezer, he settled for a microwavable bowl of chicken and mashed potatoes.  He poked the plastic covering with a fork, gave a quick glance to the instructions on the box before tossing it in the trash.  When he placed the meal in the microwave, he had to go back and fish the instructions out of the trash can to double check the time to cook it.

By now, the water for Edward’s dinner was starting to bubble, and Roy waited by the stove, giving a glance to the bathroom as the door creaked open and Edward stepped out.  He was swimming in Roy’s oversized clothes, but looked much more comfortable in the soft fabric than he had in his stiff clothing.  In one hand he held his folded clothes, and in the other he held the wrappings he had used for his ribs.

He placed his folded clothes and the wrappings on the coffee table, and limped over to the kitchen.  He sat down, choosing the same chair that Hawkeye and Maes always picked when they came over.  The pot on the stove bubbled loudly, letting Roy know it was finished boiling, and Roy took the boiled water and poured an ample amount into the bowl of soup.

He dumped the unused boiled water into the sink, and grabbed a spoon from his drawer. Roy gave the soup a good stir, making sure everything was mixed together, before scooting the steaming contents across the oak table and towards Edward, careful to keep it from spilling.  He pushed the spoon into Edward’s flesh hand, using his other one to wave away the steam emanating from the bowl.

“Enjoy,” He said cheerfully, looking over to the microwave to check his own food.

Edward scrutinized the soup, poking at the noodles with his spoon as Roy removed his meal from the microwave right as it struck one to keep it from beeping.

“You don’t need to eat what’s in the soup,” Roy peeled the plastic film from the bowl as Edward took a small spoonful of broth and held it up to his nose.  “But I want you to try drinking the broth.  It’ll help to thin out the mucus in your lungs,”

Edward stuck his tongue out, screwing up his eyes.  “Yuck,”

“Taste bad?”  Roy inquired, sitting down at the table himself and shoveling a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.  They were still slightly cold, and he frowned.

“No, what you said,”  Edward blew on the steaming broth before plopping another spoonful into his mouth.  “The soup isn’t as bad as I thought it would be,”

“Yes, the magic of soup in a can and boiled water.  Takes all the talent in the world,”  Roy said sarcastically, and Edward huffed in slight amusement.

Edward drank his broth, and Roy chewed on his stringy chicken, observing him.  He had his automail leg stretched out underneath the table, and his arm was hanging limply over the side.  Based on how much he was limping, Roy knew that cold and strong wind was probably causing his ports to ache.  Edward probably wasn’t lying in the office when he blamed the pain on his automail.

Damn weather.

“How’s the automail?” He asked Edward, taking another bite of mashed potatoes

“Why do you ask?” Edward said, stirring his broth with his spoon.

“You were limping on the way back from the bathroom, and you’re not using your automail arm either.  I figured the weather was making it ache,”

“Why are you watching me like a creep?”

Roy gave him an exasperated look, brushing his dark hair from his eyes to see him better.  “Am I wrong?”  He asked, choosing not to comment on the insult.

“No,” Edward admitted, leaning back in the chair.  “But you’re still a creep,”

Roy sighed as Edward pushed his bowl of broth forward, signaling his was finished.  “Go lay on the couch, I’ll be over in just a minute,”  He stopped for a second as Edward heaved himself upward carefully to avoid putting weight on his leg.  “Do you need help?”

“I’m sick, not useless,”

“Coulda fooled me,” Roy jabbed, and he heard Edward scoff in indignation.  “Take your shirt off too,”

Once he was absolutely sure Edward wouldn’t need his help walking over to the couch, he took both of their dishes and placed them in the sink.  He turned to water all the way over to heat, and waited a minute for it to warm up.  The last time Edward had gone in for a repair, he had spoken with his mechanic about automail care.  She had told him that the weather made the pain worse, and the best way to treat it was with hot water and rags.

Roy had asked Edward about his automail in the past before going behind his back to ask his mechanic about it directly.  Edward had never been very open about it, and most of the questions he asked were met with anger and annoyance.  He gave up after a short while, not wanting to make Edward resent him more than he already did.  But he didn’t want to be so ill-informed of his subordinates' condition in the rare instance something happened and Roy was the only one who could help.

Like now, for example.

He placed his hand under the water, checking the temperature.  It was much warmer now, and Roy was satisfied with it.  He reached down to grab a bundle of rags from his cabinet, as well as a plastic tupperware container to place them in.  He soaked the rags one at a time, wringing them about, and dumped them in the tupperware.  Once he thought he had enough, he turned off the water and made his way over to Edward.

Edward looked at it with a puzzled expression, before connecting the dots when Roy pointed to his automail.  Edward almost looked embarrassed, but Roy chose not to comment on it.  He took Edward’s hand in his own and placed it in the container.

“Is this too hot?”  He questioned

Edward poked it with his finger, testing the temperature.  “Nah, it’s fine,”

“Good.  Do you want to put it on, or is it ok if I do it?” Roy asked him awkwardly.  Edward knew his automail better than he did, but he also didn’t want Edward to strain his ribs by twisting around to reach his ports.

“You can do it.  It’s fine.  Just don’t put too much heat on the metal,” he paused as Roy kneeled down to start on his leg.  “How’d you know to do this?”

“Ms. Rockbell told me last you got repairs because you wouldn’t,”

“Damn Winry,”

Roy laughed at his comment, and Edward scowled at him.  He rolled up the pant leg to around Edward’s midthigh, and gently placed one of the rags on the aching skin.  Edward let out an audible, contented sigh, relaxing his body into the sidearm of the couch.

“Based on that reaction, I think you should be glad she told me,”

“Shut up bastard,”

He smiled, adjusted the rag slightly, making sure it didn’t sit too much on the metal port.  Now that the kid had some food in his stomach and a change of clothes, he seemed to be perking up a bit.  His face was still deathly pale and he was still taking short, painful breaths, but he was talking and moving around more.  It was quite the improvement from how still he had been in the office and during the ride over.

Once he was satisfied with the leg, he moved to the shoulder port.  The skin seemed more affected there, likely because it covered a larger part of Edward’s body.  The port on his shoulder was more difficult to cover with how Edward’s shoulder was shaped, especially with the part that was attached to his ribs, but he managed it after a bit of struggling.

While Roy was adjusting the rags so Edward could lay back comfortably, he noticed the sweat beaded across his brow.  All the walking to and from the bathroom had probably exhausted his body, and the heat from the rags likely wasn’t helping either.  Roy grabbed an additional rag from the tupperware and started to wipe his face. 

Edward was not a fan of this.  

“What are you doing?!”  He exclaimed, trying to push Roy away by the wrist.   When that didn’t work, he resorted to covering his head with his hand.

“I’m wiping the sweat off your face,”  Roy stated simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, smacking Edward’s hand away.

“Well, stop it!

“No.  Stop being difficult.  It’s no different than me helping you with your automail,”

“Yes it is,” Edward mumbled, but he allowed Roy to finish wiping his face.

“And how so?”

“Because I can wipe my face even if I’m sick.  Automail is different,”

The argument that would have ensued was interrupted by a knock at the doorbell.  Roy gave Edward a look that read you got lucky this time before tossing the sweat-soaked rag back into the tupperware and walking up to the front door.  Assuming that only the doctor or Hawkeye would be dropping by so late, Roy didn’t bother looking through the peephole to check.

Opening the door by just a crack to avoid letting out the warm air of the house, Roy saw Dr. Knox waiting patiently by the door, bundled up in a dark brown trench coat.  He gave Roy a frown, stuffing his hand in his pocket and shuffling around for a bit before pulling out a brown paper bag.

The doctor handed him the package wordlessly, and Roy took it, assuming it was Edward’s medicine.  He gave it a quick shake and the familiar sound of pills rattled around inside, confirming his assumption.  He rolled it up the paper bag and tucked it into his pocket.

“Thanks Doc,” Roy said, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the wind.  He glanced back to Edward, who was lying across the couch with his eyes closed.  “Do you wanna check up on him?”

“No,” the doctor stated, finally speaking.  “Just make sure he sleeps and gets lots of fluids,”

“Alright,” 

Dr. Knox tucked his chin into the collar of his jacket, giving him a brief nod.  “See you Roy.  Call me if you need anything,”

“I will,” Roy called as the doctor left.  The whole interaction had been less than a minute, but Roy could already feel his nose starting to freeze.

He closed the door, and dumped the contents of the bag onto the coffee table.  A green bottle full of red pills had Take once every six hours for pain as needed printed across the label, and a second green bottle full of white pills read Take every 12 hours for infection.   He popped open both bottles, taking a red and white pill, and poked Edward’s nose with them, who opened his eyes half heartedly and took the pills from Roy.

Edward popped the pills into his mouth without a single question, swallowing them dry.  His eyelids hung low, and Roy noticed the dark circles underneath his eyes as he sighed, rubbing his throat.  Roy pocketed both bottles, and gave a glance to the dishes in his sink, and then back to Edward’s splayed form.

I should probably get him a blanket.

He walked into his bedroom and grabbed one of  his thick wool blankets from the closet.  He didn’t think it would get super cold in the apartment, but Edward’s fever would give him chills, and it was better to be safe than sorry.  He also grabbed one of his pillows from his bed for good measure.  He gave them both to Edward, who maneuvered the blanket in such a way that his automail leg and arm could stick out, but the rest of his body was covered.  He tucked the pillow under his back, yawning.

“Get some sleep, Edward,”  Roy told him, feeling his own exhaustion creeping up with him as Edward was finally settled.  “And make sure you take those rags off before you fall asleep,”

Edward mumbled something acknowledgement and waved his flesh arm wearily in his direction.   Roy gave a glance to the dishes in the sink, and grumbled to himself. 

 “Will you be able to sleep if I do the dishes?”  It was the absolute last thing he wanted to do, but if he put it off until morning he would never get it done.

“Yeah, whatever,” Edward yawned into his hand, blinking tiredly.  “Can I have one of these books?” He gestured to the many worn books strewn about the coffee table.

“Grab what you want, but I want you resting in the next fifteen minutes,”

“I don’t need a bedtime,” Edward grabbed the first book from the table, glancing at the title.

“Well, you have one here.  Don’t make me turn that into an order,”

Edward didn’t say anything in return, carding through the pages of the book.  Roy trudged over to the kitchen to start on the dishes.  He let the lukewarm water run over his fingers, the dirtied ceramic, and the silver pot.  He had to fight to keep his own eyes open as he coated the dishes in lemon scented soap, scrubbing them vigorously with a sponge until it turned white and bubbly.

He let the water wash away the soap, continuing the cycle until each of the dishes were free of food particles and soap.  Once he was satisfied, he used the last rag he had to dry them off before placing them back in the cabinet.  He wiped his slightly wrinkled fingers off on his uniform pants.  He sighed softly as he looked down at himself, tossing the used rag into a basket by his bedroom door.

He hadn’t even changed out of his work clothes.

Roy changed into sleep clothes in his room, dressing in a simple white top with gray pants.  He ran his fingers through his tousled hair, making the decision to shower in the morning.  It had been about fifteen minutes since he left Edward, and he shuffled out of his room, ready to chastise the boy into sleeping.  When he saw him, he was relieved to see that the boy was already out, the book resting against his chest.  He hadn’t taken the rags off like he was supposed to, and his breathing rattled in tune with his rising chest, but at least the boy was finally asleep.

Roy padded his over to his sleeping form to remove the cooled rags from his body.  He peeled them off carefully, not wanting to wake him from his restless sleep.  He also removed the book from Edward’s chest, bookmarked the page he was on in case Edward wanted to pick up where he left off tomorrow, and placed it back on the coffee table. 

He pulled the wool blanket over Edward’s body to completely cover him now that the rags were gone.  Edward sighed softly and snuggled into the scratchy wool.  HIs automail arm remained at his right side, but his left arm had tucked underneath his shirt and laid across his stomach, and his head leaned against his shoulder, facing Roy.  Even with how badly he was wheezing, he seemed almost peaceful.

A warm, fuzzy feeling tugged at Roy’s heart, overwhelming him with an emotion he didn’t quite know how to place.  Now that the kid was asleep, he let himself gently brush Edward’s sticky bangs from his face.  Edward let out a shuddering breath as Roy’s hand made contact with his feverish skin, and he was about to pull away when Edward leaned into the touch, still asleep.  He nuzzled against Roy’s palm, signing softly.

Roy’s throat constricted painfully at Edward’s reaction, and he trailed his thumb across the boy’s cheekbone as gently as possible.  His skin was warm to the touch and already starting to sweat again, but Roy wasn’t bothered by it.  The tightness in Edward’s face relaxed at the contact, and he made a soft keening sound when Roy temporarily removed his hand so he could kneel by the boy.  Roy chuckled quietly to himself, enjoying the brief moment of peace and affection that Edward would never let him show in real life.

He looks awfully young when asleep.

It struck him once again that Edward really was still a child.  It was hard to remember sometimes due to his rather stoic personality and his incredible intellect, and with the way he set out with his own goals and was more accomplished than many of the adults that Roy knew.  But it was moments like this, when his bangs framed his large eyes and he seemed to crave affectionate contact, or when he grew fearful in the car over his illness and made stupid decsions that resulted in unnecsassary injuries, that made it painfully clear that Edward was still a child who need adult guidance.

Once Edward stilled again, and his breathing grew deeper, Roy could move his hand without any protest from the kid.  He didn’t necessarily want to leave, but he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open as he knelt by his sleeping subordinate.  He looked at the clock, before flicking off the lights and retiring to the armchair for the night.  Roy tucked himself into his own blanket, before giving the snuggled figure one last look.

“Sleep well, Ed.”

Chapter Text

Bright sunlight filtered through the window in Roy’s living room, splitting the dimly lit room in half.  The soft whirring of the heat and rumbling of the ice machine acted as a natural alarm clock, gently pulling Roy from the depths of sleep.  He shifted in the armchair, slowly opening his tired eyes to glance around the room before squinting them shut as the yellow sunlight assaulted his vision.  He was slightly confused as to why he was hunched over uncomfortability in his armchair and not in his room, but he was too sleepy to wonder about it further.

He covered his head with his blanket to block out the sun.  A slight ache was starting to spread across his lower back due to his hunched position, and Roy adjusted his position to try and ease the strain.  His spine protested painfully as he twisted around, he groaned, rubbing his knuckles against the tense muscles to relax them.

He sighed, burrowing his head further in the blanket, swallowing down the dryness in his throat.  He was tempted to stay concouned in the warmth of the blanket a while longer, not wanting to leave the comfort it provided.  It was a Saturday, so there was no work, no documents or phone calls that required his immediate attention, so he could easily allow himself this self-indulgent rest.

The same sounds that had woken him began to lull him back to sleep with it’s rhythmic and repetitive tune.  Roy didn’t fight it as his eyelids began to droop, causing his darkened vision to blur.  He let out a deep exhale, curling deeper into the rough wool blanket, allowing his weight to sink into the ruined upholstery.  He was almost back to sleep, wandering the funny limbo between rest and awareness when the tranquil atmosphere was broken by a loud sputtering  just a few feet from him.

The exhaustion seemed to evaporate from his body as adrenaline rushed through his veins.  Roy shot up instantly, heart ramming against his ribs as he struggled to rip the blanket from his head.  Smells of burnt clothing and gunpowder filled his nostrils as he struggled upwards from his armchair.  His breathing quickened as the familiar feeling of gritty sand rubbed at his ankles.  He stumbled forward, mind racing with barely coherent thoughts as fear gripped his chest in a tight, suffocating fashion.

The golden sunlight messed with his vision as he ripped the blanket from his head.  He stepped forward, tripping over something, his hands buried with sand. He let out a gasp as he tugged at his clothing, looking for one of his gloves.  He was back in Ishval, he was back, and he didn’t know what was going on, only that he needed to protect himself.

The sputtering near him grew louder, and his body went rigid with fear as he crawled forward, trying to gain his footing in the slippery, blood-coated sand.  Someone was wrapped around his legs, and he started to panic, unable to shake it off as it slowed his desperate crawling.  Blood started to pound in his head in time with his heart, and only one thought managed to fight it’s way through his panic.

He had to pull himself together, had to get it together before whatever it was found him and killed him and whoever he was with.  He searched his clothing more frantically, shaking fingers digging painfully into his skin, trying to find his gloves, his goddamn gloves, dammit he was going to die where were the gloves -

He spun his head around to meet the threat, preparing himself to face it head on, raising his gloveless fingers to snap on instinct, when a shock of golden hair caught his vision.  Roy paused, despite everything screaming at him not too, gazing upon the face of a young boy who looked painfully familiar, with two metal limbs poking out of a wool blanket that was kicked down to his knees, golden hair framing his face.  Despite the rampant, panicked thoughts that filled his brain, the name of the young boy hit him in an instance.

This was his Major, Edward Elric.

The logical side of Roy’s brain finally caught up with him, along with the memories of the previous night, causing the visions of gritty, blood stained sand to vanish in an instant.    His body was suddenly weak with relief, and he had to catch himself on shaking hands before collapsing forward.  Edward hadn’t been involved in any sort of sqirmishin his time in the military, and certainly hadn’t been old enough to participate in the Ishvlian war.

Roy fought to get his breathing under control, blood still pounding loudly in his head.  He was not out in the desert, he reminded himself, but home in his little apartment, safe.  His hands were brushing against carpet, not sand, and the thing that had wrapped itself around his legs was not a person, but a blanket that he had used the night before.

Edward ceased coughing for a minute, miraculously still asleep.  He inhaled deeply, the sound crackling with mucus, and let out a shuddering breath as he started to cough again.  Roy stared at him, trying to gather his scattered thoughts.  When the boy kept coughing, showing no signs of waking, Roy gave himself a mental shake before attempting to stand on trembling legs to wake the kid.

His knees buckled slightly under his weight, but he managed to keep himself upward as he shuffled towards Edward.  He shoved an arm under the boy’s back, hoisting him upwards.  Edward slumped forward, wheezing, almost falling on his face until Roy caught him by placing a hand on his chest.  He gave the kid a little shake to wake him.

Edward’s eyes opened slowly as he took in another wheezing breath, thankfully seeming to be done with coughing.  He blinked a couple of times, looking baffled, until Roy gave him a pat on the chest.  His Major’s face swung over to look at Roy, watery eye’s widening in recognition, face twisting into an expression of confusion.

“What’s with the face, Colonel?” Edward hissed rawly, swatting away the hand on his chest.

“What face?”  Roy’s voice trembled dangerously, rough with disuse, and Edward raised his eyebrows.

“You’re like, super pale.  Sick or something?  Nightmare?”

God, I wish it was as simple as a nightmare.

“No, no, I’m fine,”  Roy reassured, bringing a hand to his face.  He wasn’t fine in the slightest, his body still shaking and heart still beating so loudly and aggressively he was surprised Edward didn’t hear it, but he didn’t need to burden the kid with that.

“Sure,”  Edward gave him a scrutinizing expression, looking him up and down, disbelief dripping from his voice.  Roy was about to tell him to drop it, that there was nothing to worry about, before the kid cut him off.  “What’d ya wake me up for?”

Roy stood up, taking a deep breath to steady his voice, grateful for the subject change.  “You were coughing pretty badly.  Woke me up.  I was worried you’d choke on your spit or something,”

Edward’s expression changed into one of exaggerated appreciation, placing a hand over his heart.  “Aww!”  He cooed, grabbing Roy’s hand dramatically.  “The ever-brooding Flame Alchemist was worried about me!  How sweet!”

Roy rolled his eyes, pulling his hand back from the boy.  He was about to shoot back a sarcastic response when Edward leaned forward, his face inches from Roy’s nose.

“What’s next, Colonel, confessing your feelings for Hawkeye?”

Roy froze, fiery blush rushing to his face as he registered Edward’s words.  He resisted the urge to smack Edward upside the head, shooting him a dangerous glare, and Edward beamed.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye and I are coworkers,” he said slowly, running his fingers through his hair.  “Coworkers, Edward.  That’s it,”

Edward either did not take the hint to shut up or just chose to ignore it.  “Coworkers, huh?”  He pushed, waggling a finger.  “Sorry, not buying it.  I’ve seen the way y'all interact.  Making her coffee early in the morning, eating lunch with her in your office, avoiding paperwork so she’ll pay you a visit,”

“Edward,” Roy interrupted, grabbing the kids waving hand, trying to hide the utter embarrassment that was spreading to the tips of his ears.  “Shut. Up.”

Edward was positively glowing by now, urged on by Roy’s reaction.  “Why?  It’s true!  Your blushing is only proving my point!”

“I am NOT blushing!”

“You’re in denial Mustang!” His voice had upped an octave and he had crossed both hands over his heart.  “Everyone knows it, you’re the only one-”

“I swear to GOD, Edward,” Roy hissed, covering his face with his hand.  “If you don’t shut your damn mouth I will SHUT it for you,”

“Oh, how so?”  The boy challenged, cocking an eyebrow.

Roy faltered for a moment, scanning his thoughts for a way to crack back at the kid.  His silence caused Edward to cackle loudly.  Roy scowled at him, and Edward wheezed out another mocking laugh, wrapping his automail arm around his waist.  The glittering metal gave Roy an idea.

“Well, I happen to know that you send awfully sweet letters down to someone in Resembool,”

Edward’s laughs immediately fell silent as he gaped stupidly at Roy, blood turning his checks and the tips of his ears a rose-red.  Roy gave him a smirk, hoping he’d take the bait.

“I do not write letters to Winry!” He spat, glowering.  “She’s my mechanic!  Nothing more!”

A feeling of triumph filled Roy’s chest as Edward waltzed right into his trap.  “I don’t remember mentioning Ms. Rockbell by name.  I thought you had two mechanics down there?  Funny how your thoughts when straight to her,”

Edward fumed, and Roy wasn’t sure if the red on his face was due embarrassment, anger, or a combination of both.  He swore he could see smoke coming out of his ears.  Regardless, Roy was absolutely delighted that he had managed to turn the conversation in his favor.  He gave a satisfied grin as Edward mumbled something under his breath, and cupped his ear with his hand.

“What was that?” He inquired dweetly.  “I didn’t quite catch that,”

“I said,” Edward snarled, raising his voice, “shut the hell up you BASTARD!”

The kid broke off into a fit of coughs, and Roy let out a loud laugh, finally removing his arm from the kid’s back to head over to the kitchen for breakfast, seeing that he was awake enough to support himself.  He glanced at the clock to check the time.  It was just a little over nine in the morning, and while he and Edward bickered, the sunlight that streamed through the window had grown larger, lighting up the majority of the apartment.

Deciding to forgo the artificial lights, Roy prepared himself a bowl of cereal.  Edward, who was still red in the face but finished with his coughing fit, threw off his blanket, stomping his way over into the kitchen with as much strength as his sick body could muster.  Roy took this as a good sign.  If Edward could stomp on his automail leg, however tiredly he seemed to be doing it, was an improvement from yesterday.

Roy leaned against the counter, watching Edward with a grin as he sipped on the milk.  Edward made a big deal of searching through his cabinets, slamming the doors shut when he couldn't find what he was looking for.  He caught Roy watching him, who shrugged his shoulders innocently, and Edward stuck out his tongue.

Eventually, Edward found what he was looking for, grabbing a plastic cup and filling it with water, purposely splashing some of it on the polished granite.  He seated himself at the kitchen table, holding the cup with both hands, glaring over the top of it as he drank.  Roy gave him a few minutes to pout, looking rather hilarious in Roy’s opinion.  He grabbed Edward’s medication from the counter, looking for something easy for Edward to stomach for breakfast.

In the back of his cupboard, he found a sleeve of saltine crackers from when he had the flu.  He checked the expiration date, relieved to see that they were still good,  and settled himself at the kitchen table to eat breakfast with Edward.  He took the two pills from the bottles, sliding them towards Edward, who took them wordlessly and swallowed them down.

Taking another bite of his cereal, which was decidedly not as good as he was expecting, he pushed the sleeve of crackers towards Edward.  Edward scowled at it, taking a loud sip of his water, before smacking the crackers back towards Roy with a disinterested snort.  Roy gave him a good-natured frown, taking it upon himself to tear open the plastic.  He gave it a little shake, offering to Edward again.

Edward made a face, staring at the crackers.  “I’m NOT hungry,” he declared, looking ready to smack the crackers out of Roy’s hand.

“I know, but you can’t survive off of just water and chicken broth, especially when you’re sick.  I want you to eat at least one,”

“No,” He stated definitely.

Roy sighed, taking a breath.  “Yes, Edward.  You have to eat one mandatory cracker,”

Edward snorted.  “Mandatory?  Be serious Mustang.  I’m not in your office, you can’t boss me around,”

“But you are in my apartment, eating my food and wearing my clothes,” Roy pointed out, and Edward crossed his arms, grumbling.  “I think I have at least some authority,”

“It’s not like I asked for this.  You offered.  Regret it yet?”  Edward said bitterly, looking down at the floor.

Roy tightened his jaw, realizing that Edward had taken what he said the wrong way.  He twirled his spoon in his bowl, choosing his next words more carefully.  “Of course I don’t regret it.  Why would I?  I don’t know why you insist on being insanely difficult, but it’s no different than seeing you in the office.  I want you to get better, and I didn’t want you to be alone in the hospital over the weekend.  Plus, it’s nice to have company in this little apartment for once, even if that company likes to insult me at every turn,”

Edward looked taken aback by his words, mouth slightly ajar as if he was going to say something.  The tense silence between the two of them grew as they stared at one another, until Edward decided to look away to pick at the wood on the table in favor of speaking anymore.  His expression was no longer angry, but a mixture of emotions that Roy couldn’t quite pick out.

Instead of questioning it further, Roy picked out a cracker from the sleeve, inspecting it.  “How about this, kid?  Let's make a deal.  How about if I eat a cracker, you eat a cracker?” He suggested, holding the satline towards Edward.

Edward looked back up at him, scrunching up his nose.  “That’s not much of a deal,” he mused, but took the cracker anyway.  He held it up to his face, sniffing it, before giving Roy an expectant look.   

He took a bite of his cracker, rolling it around on his tongue.  It was tasteless, even with the salt, but it was bearable, and he swallowed it, giving Edward an enthusiastic thumbs-up.  Edward rolled his eyes, nibbling at the edge of his own cracker.  He smacked his lips, judging the taste before taking another bite, and then looked back to Roy.

As ridiculous as it may have seemed to outsiders, Roy knew that the sharing of crackers was both Edward and his way of wiping the slate clean and putting the situation behind them.

Edward managed to make it through three crackers before pushing the sleeve away, polishing off his cup of water.  He stayed while Roy finished his cereal, which had gone soggy while they shared the saltines, grimacing every time he saw the milk dripping down Roy’s silver spoon.  He messed absentmindedly with his automail, checking the port and probing the scarred skin beneath it.

Edward ran his fingers through his greasy hair, frowning at the feel before tucking his bangs behind his ears.  He reached for his frizzled braid, running his fingers along the flyaways before undoing the tie at the bottom and separating the braid with his flesh hand.  He swung his neck a bit, letting his hair sort itself out, fiddling with the tie in his hands.

Roy had known that Edward had long hair, how else could he plait it so nicely into a braid, but he hadn never seen how long it actually was.  He was surprised to see that the golden strands went past his neck, the tips of it just barely missing his mid back.  It was slightly waved from having been in a braid so long.  Edward leaned back in his chair, still messing with the hair tie.

After Roy finished his breakfast and placed his bowl in the sink, Edward disappeared into the living room.  Roy called to him that he would be taking a brief shower, and Edward gave a sound of acknowledgement from the other room.  Roy grabbed a towel and a change of clothes from his room.  He contemplated staying in comfortable sleep clothes, but decided against it, knowing that he wouldn’t get any work done if he stayed in pajamas.

Due to the weather, the water in the shower didn’t get very warm, so instead of staying in to procrastinate his paperwork like he planned too, he washed his hair as quickly as possible to get out of the lukewarm shower.  He washed his face at the sink, rubbing his hand along his jaw.  It had been two days or so since he last shaved, and a bit of stubble was starting to grow in, a light five o’clock shadow present across his face.  He stared at his razor, wondering if he should shave.

He ended up not shaving, toweling his hair somewhat dry and running his fingers across his part to wrangle it into his typical hairstyle.  He patted down the stay bits of hair, brushed his teeth, and exited the bathroom with his sleep clothes in hand, tossing them onto his unslept bed.  He grabbed the bundle of paperwork, searched for a pen, and finally, just after ten thirty in the morning, he was ready to go.

Out in the living room, Edward was reading the book that Roy had bookmarked last night.  He had refilled his glass of water and placed it on the coffee table, and had tucked his blanket underneath his feet to use as a footrest.  He looked content, pulled in by a book Roy was almost positive he had seen him read before, taking soft, shallow breaths.  Roy placed his paperwork on the coffee table, sitting on the floor, starting to sift through the files in front of him.

“Did you sleep on the chair last night?”  Edward asked suddenly, turning the page on his book.

Roy looked over his shoulder to see the blanket that was still half strew across the floor and armchair from his morning panic, and he winced internally.  “Yeah.  Why?”

“Dunno.  Curious,”

Odd thing to be curious about.

“I did it in case you woke up choking or something.  Which you did,”  Edward gave him a side glance, and Roy popped a question.  ‘Speaking of which, how are you feeling?”

The kid gave a shrug.  “‘Bout the same as yesterday,” He answered vaguely.

“And that is what, exactly?  You weren’t that honest yesterday,” Roy pushed, carding through the first packet of files in front of him, cringing at the amount of papers.

“It just hurts,”

“What hurts?  Be more specific,”

Edward's shoulders sagged, and he rested the book against his thighs.  “Everything.  My ribs, my chest, my head,” He listed, voice hoarse.  “Isn’t the medicine supposed to make me better?”

“It will, but it’s only been a day, and you’re going to get worse before you get better.  That’s the fun part of having pneumonia,” Roy explained, deciding that the first document was too much work and tossing it to the side.  “You might feel better if you shower,”

“I don’t wanna shower, I wanna sleep,”  The boy protested, wiggling around on the couch to face Roy.

“Then sleep,”

“Can’t.  It hurts too much to breathe and I can’t lay down without coughing,”  He sighed, rolling his head to look over Roy’s shoulder.  He furrowed his eyebrows, pointing past Roy and at the window.  “Hey, is it snowing?”

Roy followed his finger, and sure rough, large bright flakes of snow were starting to flutter down from the sky.  They were tossed about in the howling wind, causing whirlwinds of snowflakes to dance around in the frozen air.

“Well, I’ll be damned.  Weather guy was right for once,” Roy chuckled, turning back around.  “Strange, isn't it?”

Edward wrinkled his nose as if the question had personally offended him.  “No, it’s gross,”

Roy barked out a laugh at Edward’s response, causing the kid to give him a surprised look.  “Agreed.  It’s almost worse than the rain,”

Edward snickered softly, going back to his book, and Roy smiled softly to himself.  He turned his attention to the next document in front of him, which was one of Falman’s reports.  This one was longer than the first one, and Roy reminded himself yet again to pull Falman aside and speak with him about the length of his reports.  There was no maximum word count for reports, despite the many times Roy had tried to enforce one, but most of his squad kept theirs around a couple of thousand words or so.

Most of them, anyway.

Unfortunately, Falman was notorious for detailed, lengthy reports on the simplest of things.  Whether it was a one day excursion outside the city to inspect a building or a resupply mission, he would come back, never late, with an extraordinarily detailed report that was at least eight pages if he was lucky.  The one he held in his hand was at least ten, and Roy was not looking forward to summarizing it.

Other paperwork included summaries from lower branches that needed approval, files that needed to be signed and pushed forward, money and supply requests, as well as letters from the bigshots in central either complaining about him or requesting his help.  The most common ones that passed his desk, the ones that walked the line of being both hilarious and extremely frustrating, were the complaints about Edward.

A bit like Falman, Edward managed to make the simplest of missions extremely complicated.  Roy either received phone calls and letters praising Edward for his help, begging him to come back, or ruthless searing complaints about his handling of the situation and Roy’s management of him.  While the people loved him, Edward was not so popular within the military high command, as he liked to drag the military’s name through the mud.

Roy tossed Falman’s report aside with a chuckle, remembering a time he had gotten a phone call from a woman in a remote town about two hours from East City, complaining about a “short blond brat” that had fixed her home for free after a skirmish, but added gargoyles to the roof of her home.  He ended up telling Edward to stop adding his own personal flair when fixing up his mistakes, but he actually told the woman to be grateful for the free fix and to stop bad-mouthing his alchemist.

He straightened out his papers, deciding to organize the documents into piles before completing them, splitting them into three separate piles: Letters, reports, and documents that only needed his signature.  If he could plow through the easy ones done first, he might get into a grove and finish his work before Monday.  And if not, at least he would have some paperwork to show for it when Hawkeye pestered him on Monday.

He skimmed over a document proclaiming that a military ball would take place on January 15th, and all officers needed to RSVP before the tenth so enough supplies could be bought.  Roy haphazardly sighed at the not attending section before moving onto the next document, which was an article explaining that the Department of Investigation was expanding their jurisdiction in East City. 

He got into an easy groove, the pile of finished documents growing steadily beside him.  He was interrupted after making it through about seven of the documents by Edward’s flesh hand poking at his paperwork.  He shifted the paper, causing Roy to screw up his signature.   He gave the kid a pointed look, and Edward grinned sheepishly.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Paperwork,” Roy answered, rubbing at the smeared portion of his signature with his finger.

“What kinda paperwork?”  Edward leaned forward, straining his neck to look at the top of Roy’s file.

Roy shuffled the papers, bruising Edward’s hand away.  “Lots of different kinds,” he mumbled distractedly.

Edward huffed.  “Why are you being vague?”

“Why are you suddenly so interested?”

“I’m bored, Mustang.  B-O-R-E-D,”

Roy chuckled, scrawling out another signature on a leave form.  “What do you want me to do about it?”

Edward threw his hands up dramatically, sighing.  “God, I don’t know!  Talk to me or something,”

At that, Roy tore his eyes from the paperwork, giving Edward his full attention.  “I was under the impression you didn’t like listening to me talk,”

“Eh, you’re not that bad,” Edward waved a hand.  “I just give ya trouble when you lecture me, that's all.  Plus, you’re the only company I have right now, and you’re out here instead of in your room.  Worried I might die on your couch?”  He added on, face smug.

“I always do my work in the living room,” Roy retorted.  

“Alright Mustang.  Whatever you say.  Can I help?”

“With what?”

“The paperwork, duh,”

Roy paused mid-signature.  “You want to help me with paperwork?” He asked incredulously.

“I gotta do something Colonel, before I go crazy,”

Roy thought about it for a moment.  Legally, the answer was no, as Edward didn’t have the rank nor experience to summarize the majority of the reports.  Because Roy was a Colonel, he got the work that the rest of the team couldn't do, which included Edward.  But, Roy thought, cocking his head to the side, It’s not like they’ll know that I wasn’t the ones who read them.   It wasn’t entirely legal, sure, but it wouldn't be the first time Roy had gotten help like that.

“Technically, you can’t,” Roy said, and Edward sighed.  “But,” Roy conutined, waving a piece of paper around, “If you really wanna help, these reports are pretty easy to read,”

Edward pushed himself up on his elbows.  “You can’t be serious,”

Roy handed him the report.  “Wouldn’t be the first time.  As long as you can summarize well enough, it won’t be an issue,”

“Hawkeye’ll kill you,” Edward warned, eyes alight with mischief as he took the report.

“What Hawkeye doesn’t know won’t hurt her,”

Edward was able to blow through the reports with a surprising speed.  Roy would sign his papers or write a response to a letter, and when Edward was done reading, he would report back with a short summary for Roy to write down.  Then he would ask for another report, Roy would write, and the cycle continued.

Every couple of moments or so, Edward would have to take a break from his reading to get his breathing under control, as he got winded easily from speaking too quickly.  He would only take shallow breaths to keep his ribs from throbbing, but doing so made his coughing more frequent.  Occasionally, Edward would limp over to the bathroom to spit up the phlegm he hacked up.

Each time, Roy would wait for him to come back, pausing his paperwork to offer him a glass of water.  While Edward was much better then yesterday in terms of his automail, he was still ghastly pale and sweaty.  It was true that with pneumonia, Edward would get worse before he got better, and Roy hoped that they were in the worst of it so Edward didn’t have to suffer anymore.

Around noon, when the paperwork was almost completed, Roy declared a fifteen minute break for lunch.  Roy snacked on some buttered toast with Edward, who only nibbled along the side of the crust.  Roy also ended making him some broth, remembering Dr. Knox’s words to keep him hydrated, and allowed him to drink it on the couch instead of at the table.  He sat next to him, grabbing his radio, switching through the news channel for some background noise.

At some point, Edward started to argue with Roy about his choice of channels.  He tried to wrestle it from him, claiming that he just wanted to go to the music channel.  Roy held the remote above his head, refusing.  Edward relented, and Roy thought he had won until Edward tackled him with a surprising amount of strength, throwing his sweaty blanket over Roy’s head to scamper away to the bathroom with his prize.

Roy swore at him from the couch, throwing Edward’s blanket to the side.  Edward mocked him from the bathroom, cranking up the volume on the radio to drown out Roy’s cursing.  He banged on the bathroom door, threatening demotion and court-martial if Edward didn’t give him back his damn radio, calling the kid a plethora of colorful names until his neighbor started shouting at him through the wall.

After that bump in the road, Edward actually ended up taking a shower and changing into a new pair of Roy’s old clothes.  He gave back the radio with a grin, which suspiciously heavier in his hands.  Roy turned the knob back to the weather channel as it droned on about abnormally low temperatures and a maximum of three inches of snow.  Roy snorted in disbelief, looking out the window to see the snow falling heavier than ever.

After their break, which ended up being much longer than fifteen minutes, they went back to their routine.  The stack of finished paperwork outnumbered the amount of unfinished work, and if they continued at their current pace, it would be likely that Roy would have no paperwork to do on Sunday.  While the idea pleased him, the look that Hakweye would definitely pull when he came to work Monday with a finished bundle of paperwork is what really made him power through.

However, it was naive to think that they would make it through all the paperwork without any hiccups.  Edward finished up his latest summary, asking for the next report, and Roy grabbed the first one off the pile.  There was a horrible, sinking feeling in his stomach as he glanced over the report in his hand, recognizing the scrawled, loopy handwriting and crumbled paper.

It was Edward’s Chimera report.

Damn it, Roy thought bitterly as he gripped the paper tightly in his hand, his fingers causing small indents along the sides.  He had COMPLETELY forgotten about Edward’s report in light of everything that had happened within the last twenty-four hours. He tried to toss it into the finished pile with his summary, planning to dig it out later to finish when Edward was asleep, but the kid noticed, holding out his hand questionly for it.

Roy pondered whether or not he should give it to him.  He was not eager, or willing, to make Edward relive the inspection that had gotten him hurt in the first place for the sake of finishing his paperwork faster.  Chimera’s were a sensitive spot for both of them, but Roy was the adult, and he could handle it much better than Edward could.

On the other hand, Edward would be far from pleased if Roy tossed the report aside without so much as giving him an explanation on why he didn’t want him to read it.  The again, if he told Edward why he didn’t want to give him the report, he would be extremely upset with him, and he didn’t want to cause another argument.

He sat there, glossy-eyed and lost in thought.  It wasn’t until Edward leaned across the coffee table to snap his fingers in Roy’s face that Roy was broken out of his inner turmoil.  He blinked, the world around him becoming clear once more as he met Edward’s concerned gaze.

“You still there, Mustang?”

Roy blinked stupidly casting a glance around his aprtment, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.  “Yeah, yeah.  Sorry,”

“You do that a lot,” Edward stated, looking him in the eye with a scrutinizing expression.

“Do what?”

“Get distant,” Edward explained, leaning back into the couch.  “Your face gets all funny and your eyes look weird.  Same thing happened this morning when you woke me up, and in the office yesterday,”

Roy was at a loss for words.  Did he really do it often enough that Edward noticed? “I-I guess i didn’t realize,” he murmured, half to himself and half to Edward.

The kid just shrugged.  “Whatever.  Just hand me that report, would ya?”

“Don’t worry about this one,”

“Why not?”

“It’s yours,”

Edward froze as the words hit his ears, his hand still outstretched for the report.  His face was etched with a variety of emotions, but surprisingly, the most prevalent one was that of grief.  Not anger, not shock, but just pure, unfiltered grief.  It was Edward’s turn to grow distant as his eyes went glassy, not reminded of his adventure down in Adkins, but of a young girl with brown plaited hair and wide, blue eyes, who loved her dog and father more than anything.

“You know,” Roy said, breaking the silence.  “She was a real sweet kid,”

Edward slowly turned his head around to stare Roy dead in the eye, and Roy began to regret his decision until Edward’s shoulders sagged.  “I didn’t know that you met her,” he whispered.

“Just a couple of times, when I would check up on you,” He paused, remembering how she would tug on his pants and beg him to pet her dog.  He smiled at the bittersweet memory.  “Everytime I went over, she would introduce me to her big white dog,”

“Alexander,” Edward added softly, casting his eyes down to the report still in Roy’s hand.

Roy nodded.  “That was it.  Alexander,”  A sudden spurt of mention rose in his chest, and he bit his lip to keep his voice from breaking.  The words that he had been wanting to say for ages but was never sure when the time was correct bubbled up in the back of his throat.

 “I’m sorry,”  He blurted.

Edward looked back up at him, shocked.  “For what?”

“For sending you to Adkins.  For the Tucker situation,” He swallowed down a choked sound.  “For Nina,”

Edward took in a sharp breath, shaking his head.  “Ain’t you fault,”

“Maybe not,”  Roy answered, not believing a word Edward said.  “But I’m responsible for you.  I’m the reason you were there in the first place,”

Somehow, Edward understood they were no longer talking about his report.  “You didn’t know, Mustang,”  The kid’s voice was hard with emotion, and he looked down at the floor.

Roy wasn’t sure what compelled him to do what he did next, but he reached forward suddenly, gripping Edward’s wrist in his hand.  “Just know Ed, I never wanted any of this to happen to you.  None of it.  I fought so hard to keep you out of it when Tucker got exposed,”  He took in a shaking breath, looking the kid in the eye.

“I really tried to keep you safe,”

Edward’s eyes were wide and clouded, and they both remained still as stone as Roy’s words hung in the air.  Roy could’t make out the expression on Edward’s face, worried he had done something horribly wrong, cursed himself internally, pulling his hand away from the boy’s wrist.  To his surprise, Edward gripped his fingers with his flesh hand, keeping him from pulling away completely.

“It’s ok Colonel,” He murmured, voice tight.  “I.. I never blamed you for any of it,”

Roy brushed his thumb against Edward’s knuckle.  “I completely understand if you do-”

“No,” The boy insisted, shaking his head.  “Life is just.. shitty sometimes.  Can’t do anything about it,”  He released Roy’s hand, chuckling bitterly.

“Not always,” Roy agreed softly.  “But you never need to shoulder it alone.  You can talk to any of us, anytime,”

Edward shuffled his hands together, nodding.  “Ok,” he whispered softly.

The uncomfortable silence that followed the conversation was thankfully broken only a few moments later by the phone.  Roy stood, brushing himself off, thankful that he and Edward had been spared the tasks of smoothing over the silence.  He answered the phone, holding it to his ear.

“Colonel Mustang speaking,” he answered bluntly, ready to tell off anyone who had called him on his day off.

“Hi Colonel!” Alphonse’s tiny, cheerful voice sounded through the phone, and a feeling of softness washed over Roy, wiping out any feelings of prior annoyance.  “Hello Alphonse,” he said, making his tone considerably softer.  Edward perked up at the mention of his brother's name, and scrambled to the other end of the couch to listen in.  “How are you?”

“I’m good!  How’s brother?”

Roy gave a glance to Edward, who was listening intently to the conversation.  “He’s doing alright.  Difficult as always,”  Edward stuck his tongue out, and Roy smirked.  “Do you wanna talk to him?”

Edward sprang up, reaching for the phone with grabby hands, and Roy had to smack him away.  “Oh, it’s no trouble at all, Alphonse,” Roy reassured.  “I think he’d be really happy to speak with you,”

“Give me the damn phone, you jerk!” Edward hissed quietly, tugging at the phone cord.

“I’ll speak with you later, Alphonse.  Someone’s being rather pushy,”

Alphonse gave a knowing chuckle as Roy handed the phone over to Edward, who plopped down on the floor, leaning against the wall, rattling off everything that had happened within the last twenty-four hours.

It warmed Roy’s heart to see Edward speaking so eccentrically with his brother, looking much happier than he had seen him in a while.  Roy glanced out the window to see the sun starting to dip below the snow-filled clouds, causing the apartment to dim slightly.  He checked the time, making his way into the kitchen to prepare something for dinner.  Edward’s sickness and medication was making him less than hungry, but it was still important that he eat something so his body could keep fighting.

He listened to the boys talking as he bustled about in the kitchen, making himself and Edward a bowl of broth, forgoing his traditional microwavable meals.  Perhaps Edward would be less defiant about drinking his soup if Roy was eating something similar.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Edward gesturing wildly as he spoke, even though his brother couldn’t see him.  The kid seemed to be in less pain regarding his broken ribs, but Roy didn’t miss the way he would wince painfully when he coughed or swung one of his arms too high.

Edward was still raspy when he spoke, and he rubbed his throat with his flesh hand after going on a monologue about how he had stolen Roy’s radio and locked himself in the bathroom to transmute it slightly.  Roy craned his head to give the boy a pointed scowl, and Edward just grinned, cupping his hand around his mouth to speak more quietly to his brother.

The boy’s conversation lasted for a while, and in that time Roy was able to make both of them their soup.  He gave Edward his bowl of broth while he sat on the floor so he could keep speaking with his brother, and held up two fingers to signal that he wanted at least two sips taken.  Edward rolled his eyes, but started to sip on the broth nonetheless.

Roy gathered the paperwork that was still strewn across the coffee table and tucked it into a corner so he would have room to drink his broth.  They had gotten a good amount of work done, and he knew Hakweye would be suspiciously surprised when he handed her the finished work on Monday.  He would have to remember to keep Edward away from her for a while, though.  While Edward had no qualms about lying to him, Hawkeye was easily able to squeeze the truth out of the boy.

When Edward was done with his call, he guzzled down the remainder of his broth, smacking his lips.    While dumping his bowl in the sink, Roy handed him his second dose of medication.  The energy Edward had exhibited while speaking with his brother was completely snapped, and he yawned heavily as he settled himself back on the souch, tucking his blanket around his lap.  At some point, he had tucked his hair into the collar of his shirt to keep it out of his face.

Roy clicked on the TV, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, switching through the channels to find something mind-numbing enough to fall asleep too.  Because of how much he had spoken on the phone, Edward had rubbed his throat raw, and he could barely get a word out without sounding terribly hoarse and coughing.  He still wanted to voice his opinion on the TV channels though, so he communicated through frenzied hand waves, facepalms, and annoyed groans.

Eventually, he got tired of waiting for Roy to pick up on his hints, and Edward tackled him with the small amount of energy he had left to try and wrestle the remote from him.  Learning from their past fight over the radio, Roy just covered Edward’s head with his blanket and gently shoved him back into his corner of the couch.  As a result, Edward did not succeed in winning the remote, and he spent the next couple of minutes pouting and wheezing, hugging his broken ribs and fluid-filled lungs.

Outside, the snow showed no signs of stopping, falling heavier and thicker than even.  Mounds of it were beginning to pile in front of the downstairs complexes, and Roy was grateful that he wouldn’t have to spend the morning shoveling his way out of his home like the others would.  The roads were also starting to ice, and once in a while a car could be heard screeching across the roads.

Edward ended up passing out against the armrest at around ten, hugging his pillow to his chest like a stuffed animal, curled into the warm blanket.  His breathing was very labored, and Edward would take in a large gasp on occasion, but he remained in a restless sleep.  Roy took advantage of the situation to change the channel on the TV and start summarizing Edward’s report.

The report ended up not being as nearly complicated as he thought it would be, and the Chimera’s down in Adkins just ended up being a remains of an experiment from a long-dead alchemist that had no connection to Tucker.  It was just an isolated incident that Edward had managed to get wrangled into, not a giant overarching scheme.

When he finished the report, he got up to refill Edward’s cup of water before bedding down for the night.  However, unlike the previous night, Edward did not stay asleep the whole night, waking up only a few minutes after Roy finished up his report in a fit of painful coughs.  He sat up, hanging his head between his knees, coughing so hard he almost seemed to be retching.  Roy sat by him, keeping a hand on his shaking back, offering him the glass of water when he was done.

Edward took it, sipping on it tiredly, eye’s half closed as he hung his head.  When he finished his drinking, he collapsed back down onto the couch, almost immediately falling back into a restless, wheezing sleep.  Roy assumed that the situation was an isolated one, as nothing like that had happened the night before,  and that the rest of the night would be peaceful.

He was utterly, horribly, wrong.

Right before Roy fell asleep in the armchair, finally finding a comfortable position to curl up in, Edward woke up again, hacking his lungs out.  This time, the water didn’t help to settle his lungs, and he spent the next thirty or so minutes switching between coughing, exhausted groaning, and shuffling around on the couch to find any way to relieve his coughing.

Neither Edward nor Roy got any true sleep that night.  No matter what he did or what he tried, Roy could not give Edward any relief from his coughing.  Later in the night, Edward’s coughing turned more into painful gasping as he fought for air, hugging his chest in his arms, tears streaming down his spent face.  The boy seemed to be stuck in a limbo state, not entirely awake but not asleep, his eyes blurry with pain and exhaustion.

Even though his own legs shook from lack of sleep, eyes dry and limbs heavy,  Roy utterly refused to lock himself in his room for much-needed rest, despite Edward’s half-aware reassurance that he was fine.  At some point, either late in the night or early in the morning, he wasn’t quite sure, after the vicious cycle with Edward had lasted longer than a couple of hours, Roy got the bright idea to dig through his old basket of medicine tucked in his bathroom cabinet for some type of solution.

He ended up finding a long-forgotten container of lidocaine spray for throats, and a half-empty container of nasty grape-flavored cough drops.  He nearly cried out with relief, stumbling back towards Edward, who had hung his head over the armrest, his long hair covering his face.  He was no longer fighting the coughs, letting himself shake pitifully as the wet coughs racked his body.

Roy knelt down by the kid, tapping his shoulder with the bottle.  Edward lifted his head wearily,  looking confused and distant.  Roy pointed to the kid’s throat, opening his own mouth, and Edward copied him.  In his terrible state, he didn’t even protest to Roy spraying the medicine down his throat.  He missed the first time, hitting the kid’s tongue and cheek,  but he managed it after forcing himself to steady his shaky hands.

The kid coughed once as the medicine hit his uvula, and Roy offered him one of the cough drops.  He placed it under his numbed tongue, wincing at the taste, sinking his abused body back onto the couch, closing his watery eyes.  It wasn’t the smartest idea to let the kid suck on a cough drop half-asleep with a numbed throat, but it wouldn’t kill him if slipped down his throat.

Roy sat on the other end of the couch instead of the armchair in case Edward woke again, but the medicine seemed to be working, and in the early hours of the morning, Edward had finally fallen asleep for good.  It was restless, sure, with him twitching in his wool blanket and moaning out in pain when he shifted, but it was better than nothing.

At some point, Edward ended up with his feet in Roy’s lap, either for warmth or comfortability, and Roy placed a hand on the kid’s shin.  He yawned, bending his neck back uncomfortably against the worn couch cushions, too tired to move to the armchair that was only a few feet away and not wanting to push Edward away.  He wasn't sure when he gave into the pull of sleep, but once he knew Edward would not be waking and wouldn’t need him anymore, his body gave up the fight against the exhaustion, and let his consciousness drift into the gentle lull of sleep.

Chapter Text

Knock

Knock

Knock

Roy grumbled as the sound pulled him from the depths of sleep, snuggling deeper into the cushions of the couch, letting out a long exhale through his nose.  His neck ached terribly at the movement, and he groaned, adjusting himself to ease the tight muscles.  His leg bumped against Edward’s right knee as he shuffled on the couch, and Edward stirred slightly.  Roy laid a hand across the kid’s ankle to still him.

Knock

Knock

Knock

Roy buried his head deeper in the ragged cushion, trying to ignore the rapping likely coming from the front door.  He was still completely exhausted from the night before and not at all willing to get up.  It was the weekend, his day off, and he had every right to ignore anyone who bothered him.  If it was serious, they would have given him a call beforehand, not come straight to the front door of his apartment.

Moving might cause Edward to wake up, and Roy didn’t want to risk that when the kid had been asleep for longer than forty-five minutes and finally resting deeply.  Last night had been horrible, full of angry words and agonizing coughing and stolen minutes of sleep that Roy could barely operate on.

The knocking had ceased, and Roy hoped that whoever was bothering him had finally decided that it wasn’t worth their time to annoy him on the weekend.  There was a few minutes of blissful silence, and Roy started to relax, easing back into the calming realm of sleep.

Knock

Knock

KNOCK

Roy jolted upright, completely awake, and shot a vicious, furious glare towards the front door.  Edward squirmed at the movement, muttering something, and Roy cursed under his breath.  Damn it, damn it, don’t wake up.  Thoughts ran amok anxiously in his head as he leaned forward. He grasped the kid’s moving arm in his hand, running his fingers across the kid’s skin to soothe him.  Stay asleep, he willed, please stay asleep.

Edward tensed as Roy fingers met his skin, then relaxed as he brushed his fingers across his forearm to settle him.  His head snuggled back down into the pillow, and he made a quiet, gentle sound before completely setting back down into the depths of sleep, no longer squirming.  Roy let out a relieved breath

Crisis averted.

He then threw a another furious glare to the front door, where the knocking was only growing more rapid and insistent, making a conscious effort to move off the couch slowly and quietly as to not disturb Edward, as much as he wanted to scream at whoever was behind the front door to leave him the hell alone goddamn it!

Once Edward’s legs were moved off of his lap and laying back down on the couch, and the kid showed no signs of moving or waking, Roy hurried made his way over to the door to rip the throat out of the person who thought it was a decent idea to come to his home, on his day OFF no less, instead of bothering him with a phone call like any sane human being.  He fumbled with the lock, swinging the door open to seethe at whoever was standing behind it.

A blast of bone-chilling air shot straight through him, briefly distracting him from his fury as he huddled in on himself to try and deflect the wind.  He squinted as the bright morning light, enchanted by the pristine snow that had fallen the night before reflected off the ground and right into his eyes.  Roy rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, groaning, to get a clearer view of the person in front of him.

A pair of rectangular glasses came into view, along with a grin brighter than the sprinkled snow, and a hand clapped his shoulder.  Roy blinked, and another figure appeared, soft blonde hair wrapped into a bun and stray pieces sticking out, wrapped in a fluffy, dark coat.  The previous fury that he had felt was washed away immediately and replaced with joy and good-natured expasteration when he realized who was standing in front of him.

It was Hawkeye and Maes.

“Hey Roy!  Long time no see!  Good morning!”  Maes trilled, entirely too happy for someone standing outside in the freezing wind.  “My God, you look terrible.  What’s wrong with your hair?”

“Good to see you too Maes,” Roy answered, bringing his hand up to pat down the strands of messy hair on his head.  He gave a smile to Hawkeye, who offered one of her rare genuine grins that made his stomach twist in a confusing fashion.  “Morning, Hawkeye,”

“Good morning, sir.  How’s Edward?”

“Ah, he’s doing alright.  Bit of a rough night,” he winced as a torrent of wind shot by them, and Hawkeye tucked her chin into her coat collar.  “He’s still asleep, but you guys can come in if you’re quiet,”

“Don’t mind if I do!” Maes whispered loudly, pushing past Roy and into the apartment, giving a dramatic shake of his shoulders before reaching into his pockets to discard something onto the coffee table.

Roy gave a good-natured eye roll as Hawkeye followed behind Maes, flipped down her hood and shook the snowflakes from her golden hair.  “We brought some stuff.  We’ll, Maes did. I just tagged along,”

Roy was glad she did.  “A visit from you is always appreciated,”

Hawkeye smiled, letting out a soft laugh.  “Thanks sir.  Nice to know that our unprompted visit is well-received.  I know you hate it when people come by on your days off,”

Roy was about to reassure her, blaming the red tips of his ears on the bitter wind, when Maes popped up in between them with a mischievous expression.  “Hey lovebirds, can ya shut the door? It’s freezing,”

Roy glared at him, shoving away Maes as his body shook with masked giggling.  “Shut up Maes!” Roy hissed, reminding himself to keep his tone under control so as not to wake Edward as Maes walked away, giving him a mock salute.

“He’s just teasing you sir,” Hawkeye reassured, undaunted by the jab, resting a palm on Roy’s upper arm.  “Don’t let it get to you,”

“He’s an idiot,” Roy muttered, squinting his eyes as his friend waggled his eyebrows.  “What did you guys bring?”

“Cough drops, mostly.  A syrup for sore throats, some tea, and a sedative, I think,”

“I’m not giving Edward a sedative,” Roy said immediately, giving Hawkeye a shocked look.  Edward refused to take depressant medication, something Hawkeye knew, which was one of the few things Roy wouldn’t fight him on because he often refused it as well.

Hawkeye nodded.  “I know.  I told Maes that, but he insisted he bring it just in case.  Just toss it or hide it for one of your bad nights,”

Bad nights.  Huh.  If only that kind of stuff worked.

“Hey, Hawkeye?” He asked, rubbing his face.  “Is it alright if I take the day off tomorrow?”  Edward was only supposed to stay the weekend, and Roy had originally planned to have Edward use one of his sick days to hang out in he apartment while he was gone, but that was before he had spent the entire night doubled over, hacking his lungs out.  Now he didn’t feel comfortable leaving him alone until he was sure there wouldn’t be a repeat of that.   “I don’t want Edward alone in the apartment, not after last night,”

“I was just going to suggest the same thing to you, sir.  You look dead on your feet,”

Roy chuckled, tugging at his shirt collar.  “You are a real saint, you know,”

Maes came back, finished dumping the gifts on Roy’s coffee table, throwing an arm over Roy's shoulders with a yawn.  “What are you two doing all quiet like?”

“Talking, Maes,” Roy said through gritted teeth, shrugging his friend off of him.  “We’re talking, like normal people,”

Maes shook his head in disappointment, whistling.  “Such a shame.  Such an absolute shame.”  He turned to Hawkeye, who looked completely unbothered, much to Roy’s chagrin, placing a hand on her shoulder.  “Ready to go, Riza?”

“Just a minute.  Can I use your bathroom, Colonel?”

Roy nodded.  “You know where it is,”

She walked away, shrugging off her coat and gently placing it on the armrest opposite Edward’s head.  Maes gave him a nudge, a knowing look on his face.

“She here often, Roy?”

Roy smacked him, really smacked him this time, right in the chest, face flushed.  Maes was completely undeterred, satisfied with the reaction he had coaxed out of Roy.  He straightened his glasses, which had gone askew due to Roy’s  shoving, laughing quietly.

Giving Roy a few moments to fume, Maes let out an amused sigh, running his fingers through his hair.  “In all seriousness though,” He said, straightening his posture.  “How's the kid?”

“Just coughing a lot.  He was up most of the night.  Didn’t end up sleeping until I found an old bag of cough drops and a bottle of numbing spray,”

“Poor little guy,” Maes looked over Roy’s shoulder to see Edward curled up on the sofa.  Even from this distance, Roy could heat his labored breathing.  “You having him sleep sitting up?”

Roy heaved a tired sigh, rubbing his eyes.  “Yeah.  It doesn’t seem to do much, though,”

“You know,” Maes said knowingly, tapping his chin thoughtfully.  “When Elicia gets like that, I let her lay on my chest while sitting.  It helps a lot more than cushions and pillows,”

Roy gave Maes a disbelieving look, slack jawed, who just looked back at him innocently.  “You are suggesting that I, Roy Mustang, arguably Edward’s least favorite person, suggest cuddling with him to help him sleep?”

“You’re not his least favorite person!”

Roy just shook his head, unconvinced.  He wished he could live in that fantasy world that Maes was so often trapped in.    “I don’t know what world you’re living in if you think that Edward wouldn't rip my face off if I so much as mentioned your idea to him,”

“I didn’t say YOU had to do it,” Maes pointed out, pouting.

“Why does Maes look so sad, sir?”  Hawkeye’s voice broke into the conversation as she returned from the bathroom, wrapping her thick coat around her shoulders.  Maes grew even more puppy eyed at the statement, sticking out his bottom lip for emphasis. 

Roy clapped him on the shoulder goodnaturedly, ushering him towards the door.  “He’s just being an idiot, Lieutenant.  Don’t worry about him, he’ll be right as rain when he gets home to his kid,” Maes visibly brightened, and Roy shivered as the door opened and the cold wind whistled through.  “Thanks for stopping by, you two,”

“Of course, sir,” Hawkeye murmured, nudging his shoulder gently with her own as she walked outside.

“Yes, anything for my best friend and his unruly boy,” Maes mused, pushing his glasses up his nose as they fogged, stepping outside.  “Call us if you need anything, alright?”

Roy nodded, and both of his friends waved goodbye, making their way back down the ice encrusted stairs to Maes’ car.  Roy watched them go, shutting the door when they were safely behind the wheel, cranking up the heat to curb the chill that had entered the house.  He sat back down on the couch, placing Edward’s legs back on his lap, observing the gifts that Maes and Hawkeye had left the two of them.

There were three bags of cough drops, ranging in flavor from grape, lemon-honey, and peppermint.  Two boxes of tea were also left, ginger root and chamomile, which would be wonderful for soothing Edward’s sore throat.  The cough syrup was not flavored, and Roy was almost positive it was the same one he had taken when he had fallen ill with the flu a couple of months ago and he remembered it tasting awful, sticking to the roof of his mouth like tar and smelling like gasoline.  If he wanted Edward to take that, he’d probably have to mix it in with something.

Then there was the sedative.

It was a bottle of doxylamine, commonly used to treat cold symptoms like coughing, congestion, and sneezing, all things that Edward was struggling with.  However, it was also commonly used as a medication for insomnia, inducing drowsiness extremely quickly and known for knocking people out for hours on end.  Roy was familiar with it, having tried a pill or two after Isvhal.

It ended up making the dreams worse.

He wanted to throw it out, right then and there, knowing that there was no way in hell he would give that to his Major or take it himself.  Hawkeye suggested squirreling it away for one of his bad nights, but even she didn’t know the difficulty the medication had brought him when he was young and franic to rid himself of the nightmares that plagued his sleep.

It might come in handy, especially if someone ended up staying the night and asked for medication, as everyone on his team suffered from some sort of stressful memories.  There was always a possibility Edward might ask for it if he was desperate enough for it due to lack of rest, but Roy was extremely doubtful it would ever come to that.  He gripped the bottle tightly, examining the pills that were bringing him so much uncertainty.

He was getting ready to toss the bottle into the trash when Edward squirmed next to him, mumbling something.  Roy discarded the bottle on the coffee table, drawing his attention back to his sick kid.

Edward blinked awake, giving Roy a confused glance from where he was buried in the blanket, stray hair sticking to his face, bangs shielding his golden eyes.  They were red and dry, highlighted by the dark circles underneath the bottom lids.  He yawned, mucus snapping at the intake of breath.

“Wha…wha time is it?” Edward slurred, not entirely awake.

Roy shot a quick look at the clock.  “It’s… twelve in the afternoon,” 

Damn, that’s late.  I probably should be finishing up my work.  Especially now that I’m not going in tomorrow.

Edward blinked lazily, gaze fixating on the bags on the coffee table.  “Whas that?”

“Cough drops.  From Maes and Hawkeye.  They stopped by a couple minutes ago, but you were asleep,”  Edward wet his dry lips with his tongue, reaching out with an uncoordinated hand to grab the drops.  It smacked clumsily on the table, and he frowned.

“Want one,”

“What flavor?” Roy asked, leaning over to grab all three bags.  “We’ve got peppermint, grape, and lemon-honey,”

Edward screwed his eyes shut.  “Ew, not grape.  Lemon-honey,”

Roy dumped a couple of the drops into his palm, package crinkling as he moved it, and Edward slowly pushed himself upward, holding his hand out for the medicine.

Roy leaned his head back as Edward took them, undoing the wrapping and rolling them over in his mouth with a contented sigh.  Roy’s shoulders sagged, a sudden weariness presenting itself now that his unexpected company was gone.  He wasn’t sure if it was watching Edward’s slow, exhausted movements or the actual sleep deprivation from the night before that was causing the sudden drowsiness, but he wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep.

He really should be getting work done.  He really, really should.  It was the afternoon already, and with him deciding to miss work in favor of watching Edward, he should be shrugging off the exhaustion and getting his paperwork finished so he wouldn’t be swamped come Tuesday.

But he was so, so tired.  It was a pathetic excuse, sure, but right now, he wanted nothing more than to rest his aching body and let sleep overtake him.  Last night hadn’t been the first time he’d been up most of the night, nor would it be the last, but there was something about sitting with a sick kid, who was worse off then he was, being able to offer nothing but water and reassuring words, that made it feel so much worse.

Edward shuffled next to him, and Roy assumed he was going to collapse back into his cocoon of blankets and pillows on the other side of the couch to fall back asleep.  He was surprised to feel Edward hunker down next to him, the top of his head pushing against Roy’s thigh as he snuggled back down into the blanket, tucking his feet where his head had been previously.

Roy opened his eyes halfway to peer down at Edward to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.  The boy was curled up tight against his leg, knees bent up against his lower stomach.  He must have still been lost in the funny limbo between sleepiness and consciousness to willingly make contact with Roy, going as far as to nuzzle against his leg with his head.

Still, even if that’s all it was, Roy still felt warmed that Edward felt safe enough to do that around him, even if the decision wasn’t entirely a conscious one.

Roy brushed the hair from the kid’s eyes, and he heard a huff of annoyance at the gesture, but Edward didn’t move or protest at the action.  Edward’s throat rumbled with phlegm as he breathed, and Roy kept his hand resting against the kid’s temple.  The boy’s body shook as he took a deep inhale, and his breathing hitched up, a small pitiful cough escaping his lips.  Edward let out a soft, sad whine, too tired to fight any oncoming coughs.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem like his body planned to assault him with another wave of hacking, and after a few raw coughs, Edward felt silent once more, chest popping with liquid as he breathed heavily.  The kid seemed exhausted, but wasn’t sleeping, twitching restlessly against Roy’s leg.

Roy decided to try something he remembered his foster mother doing for him when he was ill and unable to sleep.  He wasn’t sure if Edward would appreciate  it or punch his nose in, but judging by his current willingness to be close to Roy, it was worth a shot, especially if the boy was letting him rest his hand against his temple.

He started to card his fingers through the boy’s golden hair, letting his fingernails gently scratch against Edward’s scalp.  Edward let a long exhale, his body relaxing at the touch, pushing his head up against Roy’s leg.  Roy chuckled softly to himself, resting his head back against the couch and closing his eyes.  Edward would probably tear his scalp from his skull later, when he wasn’t so tired and out of it, but for now, he seemed to be enjoying the affection, and Roy was happy to provide it for him.

It didn’t take long for Edward to fall back asleep.  It was deeper than the brief rest he had managed to steal the night before, not even the sounds of the ice machine in the freezer causing him to stir, and Roy was grateful for it.  The sounds Edward made as he breathed made Roy wince, grateful that there was nothing wrong with his own lungs as Edward wheezed next to him.  He kept scratching the boy’s scalp, hoping it would help him rest longer.

Roy meant to stay awake.  He wanted to be able to watch Edward some more, to make sure he wouldn’t choke on his own spit or the cough drops he had placed under his tongue, but the lack of sleep from the previous night had clearly been too much for the both of them, and Roy spent the next couple of hours dozing as Edward sniffled next to him.

When he finally did wake up for good, spurred on by Edward’s rustling and nudging against his leg, it was much, much later than he expected.  The clock showed that it was nearly three in the afternoon, meaning he had spent almost three hours messing with Edward’s hair, dozing in and out of sleep.

Edward groaned, nestling his against Roy’s hand when he stopped running his fingers through his hair, pressing his head up against Roy’s leg.  Roy pulled the covers up to the kid’s chin with a fleeting chuckle, using his sleeve to wipe away the sweat that had accumulated on his face.  He pressed his hand against the kid’s forehead to check for fever, and Edward sighed at the touch.

Roy was relieved to find that Edward’s forehead was no longer hot to the touch, and by the way he was sweating, it was evident his fever was breaking.  The kid wasn’t shivering anymore, teeth no longer chattering like the night before, and his face was coming back to its regular flushed color.  As of now, it looked like he was getting better.

They just needed to get over the coughing.

Roy knew that coughing could last for days with pneumonia, even if the person’s fever had subsided.  Right now, it seemed to be picking up as Edward’s body tried to dispel the mucus and liquid that had pooled in his lungs.  He only hoped that the worst of it was over.  Edward started to stir, and Roy pulled Edward slightly closer to him so he wouldn’t wiggle off the couch.

Edward wiggled in Roy’s hold, adjusting himself to a more comfortable position, before slowly opening his eyes.  He squinted at Roy, letting out a deep yawn, smacking his dry lips.  He looked very much out of it, his gaze dazed and breathing slow as Roy gently kept carding his fingers through the boy's hair.

“Hey Edward, how do you feel?”

“I want- I want water,” Edward’s tongue poked through his lips, wetting them.

“I’ll get you some,” Roy heaved himself upward, unsteady on his tired legs.  He went to leave, when there was a slight tugging at his sleeve.  He looked down to see Edward’s flesh fingers wrapped around the fabric.  Roy furrowed his brow, confused.

“I can’t get you water unless you let me go,” He said gently, placing  \a hand over Edward’s.

Edward frowned, eyes still glazed with sleep.  “You’ll come back, right?”

Ok, that was a little strange.  Edward may have been uncharastically snuggly lately, more receptive to hair rustling and shoulder pats, but this was further than Roy was expecting.  He internally shook his head, giving Edward a small smile.  The kid was sick, that was all, and he was just being a little out of sorts. 

“Yes, I will come back,”  Edward let go of his sleeve, looking content, and Roy gestured towards the other room.  “I’ll just be in the kitchen,”

Roy took the glass that Edward had used last night and filled it with water, pocketing the two pills that Edward had yet to take.  He took a bit longer than normal so Edward could wake up a bit more.

Back on the couch, Edward had more fully woken up, sitting up against the back of the couch with his knees crossed, blanket pooled in his lap.  He rubbed his eyes when Roy entered the room, taking the glass of water and swallowing both of his pills with a wince.

“What's the time?” The kid rasped, rubbing his throat.

“Around three or so,”

“Sorry.  Didn’t mean to sleep so late,”

Roy waved him off.  “Don’t worry about it.  Last night was rough for both of us,”  Edward scowled at the memory before taking another messy swig of water.  “How’s the throat, by the way?” Roy inquired.

“Hurts.  Think I can taste blood,” Edward stuck his tongue out to emphasize his point, screwing his eyes shut.

“Wouldn’t be surprised,”  Roy paused as his stomach rolled over, grumbling quietly.  It had been nearly fifteen hours since either of them had eaten anything but cough drops and lukewarm water, and he knew he was ready for an actual meal.  “Are you hungry?”

“No, I don’t think I could swallow anything,”

Roy pondered that for a moment, his eyes resting on the discarded tea packets.  He stood, stretching out his sore back, vertebrae cracking painfully.  “Think you could swallow tea?”

Edward shrugged.  “Maybe,”

That was as much of a “yes” he knew Edward would offer him, so he padded his way back into the kitchen, taking a packet of chamomile tea and the bitter cough syrup, squinting his eyes as he kicked on the light.  He set a kettle on the stove and made himself and Edward some toast, just in case Edward’s appetite did end up picking up after he drank some of the tea. 

He added a small amount of the cough syrup to Edward’s tea, adding a couple of spoonfuls of honey to balance out the taste.  He stirred it all together, turning the tea a much darker shade of gold than it had been before.  Thankfully, it still smelled like tea, so hopefully Edward wouldn’t be picky about it.

Back in the living room, Edward had rolled up the blanket to help himself sit upward to keep his lungs from growing agitated.  He accepted the steaming mug of tea with a nod, holding up to his nose to sniff it.  Roy settled himself next to him, placing the plate of toast in between the both of them and grabbing an old newspaper that had been stuffed under his coffee table.

Edward looked back at him with a suspicious expression etched onto his face, raising the mug to his lips but not sipping it.

“What’s in this?  It smells different,”

“Just some cough syrup that Maes brought over, and a bit of honey to balance out the taste,”

Edward lifted the mug, looking all around as if Roy had hidden something in the ceramic.  “You didn’t put that sedative in it, did you?”

Absolutely not, Roy thought, shaking his head.  “No.  I would tell you,”

“Promise?” Edward asked intensely, starting Roy dead in the eye.  “You promise you didn’t put anything in it?”

“Yes,” Roy answered truthfully, taken aback at the intensity of Edward’s words.   “I promise,”

Edward gave him a vicious look that read if you’re lying, I’ll never forgive you, before taking a small sip of the tea.  He breathed out softly as the warm liquid washed down his sore throat, setting his back against the couch cushion and closed his eyes halfway.

Roy felt a smile inching across his face at Edward’s soft, relaxed expression.  After the absolute chaos that had been last night, Roy was glad to finally see him looking content and pain-fee.  He knew Edward’s questioning of the sedatives was not a dig at Roy, but merely a fear that stemmed from medical-related memories.  Roy knew that depressant medication was commonly given to automail patients after they went through surgery, Ms. Rockbell had told him that, and Edward probably didn’t want to be reminded of that time.

Roy understood that all too well.  He refused depressant medication in favor of others himself, as the deep artificial sleep tended to trigger certain memories he was all too willing to keep under wraps.  He chewed on a piece of buttered toast, skimming over the newspaper but not really reading anything.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Edward reach for a piece of toast and nibble alongside the crust.

When Edward finished sipping down his tea and went to the bathroom, he plopped another handful of peppermint cough drops into his mouth.  He rolled them around with his tongue, then shuffled towards Roy, placing his chin on the man’s shoulder to glance at his newspaper.

“Hey, Mustang,”

Roy craned his neck to the side, sore muscle protesting.  “Yes?”

“You got any card games?”

Roy raised an eyebrow, curious on where the conversation was going.  “Yes, a couple.  Why?”

“Wanna play with me?  I think I could kick your ass,”

An amused smile spread across Roy’s face.  Kid was a bit cocky thinking he could crush Roy in cards when he had spent so much time playing chess against Grumman.  He liked to consider himself a strategic genius in that regard.  “Really?  What do you have to offer?”

Edward leaned over Roy, grabbing the bags of cough drops strewn across the coffee table.

“You like cough drops?”

***

“Come on, you have to be cheating!”

Edward’s impending, colorful rant was cut off by a flurry of coughs.  Roy sat cross legged across from him, looking innocent despite Edward’s accusation.  It hadn't been the first time, or even the fourth of fifth time he had hurled that at him since they started playing.

They had been playing cards for the last three hours, and Edward had lost every single game.  The kid had insisted in the beginning that the first losses were only flukes, and that he was going easy on Roy, but as the stack of multicolored cough drops next to Roy only grew, Edward’s proud and confident demeanor had slowly turned into one of anger and bafflement.

“I’m not cheating, Edward,” Roy answered honestly, trying to fight back a smile at Edward’s furious expression as his coughing died out.  “You have a terrible poker face,”

The kid really did.  Everytime he got a good hand or felt like he was in the lead, he would grin stupidly wide and get cocky, only to be crushed a few moments later.

“I do NOT!”  Edward shouted hoarsely, pointing accusingly at Roy.  “You’re just a stupid smug bastard!”

“A stupid, smug, observant bastard,’ Roy corrected, gesturing to Edward’s sleeve.  “Don’t think that I didn’t see you sneak some cards in there,”

Edward’s pointing finger quivered, and his eyes widened, golden bangs shrouding his enraged expression.  “Are you calling me a cheater?”

Roy swallowed back a laugh as Edward’s voice grew soft and dangerous.  Oh, this was absolutely WONDERFUL.  He really shouldn't be  getting the kid so riled up when he was sick, but he couldn't help it when Edward made it SO easy to get under his skin.

“Yes, I’m calling you a cheater,”

Edward threw his cards up in a dramatic fashion for the fifth time that day, the veins on his temple throbbing as he shouted colorful words and insults at Roy.  Roy merely gathered Edward’s scattered cards, pleased with himself, and started shuffling them or another game.

Edward stopped his shouting to steal a handful of cough drops from Roy’s collection, sucking on them with a pissed off expression, holding out his hands for the deck of cards.  Roy handed it to him, and he clumsily reshuffled them and passed out the cards himself this time.  He was clearly trying to put the game in his favor.

“How did you know?”  Edward asked sullenly as he handed Roy his cards.

“I grew up in a brothel,” Roy explained, examining his cards and internally wincing at the bad hand.  “I’ve seen every trick in the book,”

“Damn you,” Edward scoffed, eye’s lighting up with glee as he shuffled through his own cards.

“Plus, you’re not very sneaky about it,”

“Hey, screw off bastard!”

The stack of newly shuffled cards hit Roy square in the face, fluttering downwards across his lap.  Edward cackled with pure joy at Roy’s baffled expression, throwing himself forward as he wrapped an arm around his stomach.  Roy signed, rubbing his nose, which didn’t actually hurt all that much, gathering the cards yet again to restart the game.

The remainder of the day passed entirely too quickly as they played several more games, and Roy found himself thoroughly enjoying every minute he spent playing with the boy.  Over the course of the next couple of hours, Edward’s excited, spunky personality slowly started to deplete, until around dinnertime, he was fighting to keep his eyes open.  Roy was kind enough to give the kid back his spoils of the game, which Edward had been picking at anyway.

Edward refused food, asking if he could have another mug of tea with honey in it, requesting that he had chamomile instead of whatever Roy had given him last time.  Roy elected not to tell Edward that the tea he had had last time had, in fact, been chamomile, and made the kid his new mug without complaint.

Edward had one his hair into a low ponytail to keep it out of his face, which Roy had argued was useless because his bangs weren’t long enough to fit into the hair tie anyway.  Edward had socked him the ribs with his automail fist instead of complaining, and Roy had shoved him back in the living room so he could finish making dinner. 

Alphonze called again, ending the potential argument between them.  Roy let Alphonze know that he had taken tomorrow off to continue watching Edward, and that was improving drastically from how he had been on Friday while Edward hovered around him, impatiently waiting for the phone.  Both of them decided not to mention how difficult the previous night had been.  Roy didn’t need Alphonze marching down there and threatening to bash Roy’s head in with his metal gauntlet for not taking proper care of his brother. 

Not again, anyway.

Edward sipped on his tea while he spoke with his brother, and even though his mood had picked up when Alphonze spoke, it was obvious that he was growing tired.  Eventually, his response turned into the occasional “really?” and “Oh wow” as Alphonze babbled on about the lead he had followed up on while Edward had been sick.  Even though it ended up not being the Stone, he had found an old handwritten journal full of theories about it that had been left behind by a previous alchemist.

Roy intervened and ended the conversation when Edward’s chin started to bob against his chest, telling Alphonze that he was free to call tomorrow, but right now Edward needed to rest.  Edward didn’t even complain or protest at Roy’s meddling into the conversation, proving how tired he really was, and gave his brother a loving goodbye before hanging up the phone and rubbing his tired eyes with his flesh wrist.

Before letting Edward fall asleep on the couch, Roy took some precautionary measures to prevent a repeat of the night before.  He made Edward take a spoonful of the cough syrup, which turned out to be just as nasty as he remembered it being.  He then applied a generous amount of numbing spray to his throat, despite Edward’s whining about how nasty it tasted, filled his mug of water, and replenished his dwindling stack of cough drops.

Edward passed out into a twitching, fidgeting sleep, propped high on pillows and cushions, at around nine-thirty, and stayed asleep.  Roy stayed tense for a while, forcing himself to stay awake by busying himself by cleaning up the living room and the kitchen, just in case Edward woke up in another painful fit of coughs.  However, as time ticked into the late hours of the night and the kid remained asleep, Roy started to relax.

He changed into a fresh pair of sleep clothes, not having changed out of the ones that he had been in all day, and made himself a spot to sleep on the armchair with the leftover blankets and pillows.

He read while on the armchair, the same old book that Edward had picked on his first night, tired, but not tired enough to sleep.  Even though Edward was still asleep, and Roy had let himself relax a little bit, he wanted to be awake in case Edward needed him sometime during the night.  However, as he paged through the dog-eared pages of the book, blinking slowly, Edward stayed asleep.

It wasn’t long after Roy let his guard down and relaxed himself into his blanket that Edward started coughing again.

First it was only one cough, soft and quiet.

Then there was a terrible choking sound as Edward’s chest heaved with the effort to stop the next assault of hacking, and the kid shot upward, hands gripping the edge of the blanket as he gasped for air in between each, suffocating cough.

Roy let out a sympathetic sigh, wincing at Edward’s pitiful gulps of air.  The kid was pitched forward, head hanging and cheeks red with the exertion as his body hacked up the phlegm hidden in the crevices of his lungs.  Roy planted his hands on the armrests of the chair, ready to push himself upward to go to Edward, when the coughing and erratic breathing finally stopped.  He turned to look at the kid.

The sight of Edward struck pure, cold fear into his heart.  Instead of tired glazed eyes, they were wide and panicked, mouth screwed shut as he clung tightly to the armrest.  Spit dribbled down the corners of his lips as his body shook, but no sounds came out.

Roy threw himself off of his chair, gripping Edward’s shoulders tightly.  Edward let out a gasp at the sudden touch, and his body jolted, but no cough left his mouth.  His face was a bright crimson red as he clutched his jaw tight.  His skin was drawn so tight across his face that Roy swore he could see his pulse beating through his flushed skin, veins in his temple throbbing.

It wasn’t the way Edward’s body shook with silent coughs, or the flushed appearance that made worry spike in every part of Roy’s body.

It was his expression.

Roy pulled Edward closer to him, keeping him mere inches from his face.  Now that he was closer, he could see the way Edwrd’s golden eyes were almost completely overtaken with his pupils, shining brightly with fear.  They were glassy and unfocused, shifting around the room rapidly.  He gritted his teeth, so tight that Roy was sure the boy’s muscle would ache in the morning.  Sweat was beading down his face, soaking his bangs, making his face sticky.

Edward’s body jolted again, and a soft agag broke it way through Edward’s mouth.  He blanched, growing more panicked.  His shoulders shook under Roy’s grasp, and the kid forced in another shuddering breath before screwing his mouth shut again, refusing to breathe.

Realization dawned on Roy then.  The kid was holding his breath to try and keep himself from coughing.

“Edward!” Roy said loudly, shaking him slightly.  “Stop holding your breath.  It’s not going to keep you from coughing,”  He tried to keep his tone cool and collected, even though Edward’s fearful expression ignited a fire in his chest.

Edward moaned, lolling his head forward, sucking in another short breath.  He showed no sign that he was listening to Roy or that he had even heard him.  His head dropped down to his chest, and Roy shook him again, another wave of fear washing over him.  “Edward, stop!” He ordered, voice quivering.  “You’re going to make yourself worse by holding your breath!!”

Edward’s hand flew to his throat, and he looked at Roy with wild, panicked eyes.  “I can’t breathe,” he croaked.

Roy felt giddy with relief that Edward had finally acknowledged him.  “Yes you can,” he reassured, steadying his voice, tucking him closer to his chest.  “You can breathe just fine,”

A whimper escaped Edward’s lips.  “It hurts,”

A deep ache spread across Roy’s chest at the quiet, pitiful words.  He was surprised to see how much it affected him.

“It’s just a minute more, Ed,” Roy lied, voice rough as the nickname slipped out.  “Just one more minute.

Please, let it be one more minute.

The kid gasped, trying to suck in as much air as possible into his sore, tightening throat as another cough cut off his breathing.  Edward was growing more panicked the less air he was able to draw in because of the coughing, causing his breathing to grow even more erratic and irregular.

“Follow my breathing,” Roy whispered, wrapping an arm around Edward’s shuddering, choking body.  If he didn’t get the boy’s breathing under control soon, he would have to deal with a possible panic attack on top of the coughing.  “In through your nose-” he took an exaggerated breath, and Edward copied him, and Roy exhaled. “-Out through your mouth.  Smell the roses, blow out the candles,”

It was much longer than a minute later when Edward’s breathing finally evened out, the tight, grating coughs dying out into a few quiet gasps, but when it did, the venomous gripping fear in Roy’s chest uncoiled, replaced with ease and relief.  He relaxed the tense grip he had on Edward’s shoulders, the tension flooding out of his body.

Roy was about to give Edward a gentle, reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, wondering if he should sleep on the couch again with the boy, when a sudden weight pressed against his side, heavier than what had been present before.

He looked down in shock to see Edward leaning heavily against him, curling himself into Roy’s side against his rumpled sleep shirt, grasping the blanket tightly in his fists.  He visibly tensed when he felt Roy’s dark eyes lock onto him, looking down at his mismatched hands.  Edward swallowed, nestling his head into Roy’s ribcage.

“I swear to God, if you say anything-”

“I won't,” Roy's voice wavered, laced with surprise but still honest.  As much as he liked to poke and tease Edward, getting under his skin and causing his blowups, this is not something he would ever make fun of him for.

He would never tease Edward for lowering his boundaries.

Edward wiggled, and Roy moved the grip he had on the boy so he could lay more comfortably.  Edward’s temple was now resting completely against his ribs, rising and falling slowly as Roy breathed,  He wondered if this is what Maes had meant when he suggested letting Edward lay on him to help him sleep.

“Why did you do this, Mustang?” Edward wheezed, looking out into the room.

“Do what?”

“This,” Edward mumbled flatley.  He sounded confused, an unfamiliar undertone to his voice.  “Watching me in your apartment, giving me your clothes, your food.  Why not just send me to the hospital?”

Roy blinked.  He took Edward in because he knew the fear that hospitals brought the boy, the memories they could unravel as he was poked and prodded, medicine shoved down his throat and IVs forced under his skin.  He took him in because he could never imagine willingly putting him through a situation that could hurt him, not when he knew exactly how that felt.

“You didn’t want to go,”

Edward scoffed.  A real, bitter, venomous scoff.  “When has that ever been an issue for you?  You make me do things I don’t want to do all the time,”

That was true.  He did make Edward do things he hated, all the time.  Roy racked his brain for any type of excuse.  “It’s different,” he said at last, the statement sounding unsure even to himself.

Edward wasn’t satisfied with that response.  “How?” He demanded, twisting his head up to finally look at Roy.  “How is it different?”

“You’re my subordinate,” Roy said clumsily, shrinking at Edward’s harsh tone.  “I’m supposed to take care of you,”

God, was that all he knew how to say?  Because you my subordinate?

“In a PROFESSIONAL setting.  This is far from professional.  You don’t need to give a shit about me right,”

Edward’s words were throwing him for a loop, making his tongue feel thick and fumbling, unable to come up with the right words to explain why he cared so much, his expression stupid and blank as he started into Edward’s blazing eyes.

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Because I don’t get it!”  Edward hissed thickly, throat closing as he forced the words out.  “Why do you care?  Why do you care at all?  All you needed me for was to look good and get promoted, so why do you still care about me!?”

Edward was breathing heavily, his whole body tense and eyes watery as the words tumbled from his lips.  His gaze was fixed tightly on Roy, tense emotion emanating from him.  Roy was taken aback by the sudden outburst, choosing his next words carefully so as to not upset him anymore.

“It’s like what I said on the way back from the hospital.  I care about your wellbeing,”

“But. Why.” Edward said each word slowly, methodically, his gaze boring into Roy’s very soul.  “I’m difficult, I’m brash, so why do you still care?”

Edward was difficult.  He was brash.  He had a terrible attitude and had cost Roy many meetings with superiors, many cuts in budget and threats to his position.  The young Alchemist was insubordinate and rude and would have been court-martialed under any other superior.  Yet, Roy found himself, day after day, enjoying every fleeting interaction he got to have with the kid, no matter how much he got under skin and pushed his buttons.  Despite the insults, the arguments, the screaming, Roy cared.  He cared so much it hurt.

“I just do,”

The answer was simple and lame, so much more meaning hidden behind it, but Roy had no idea how to voice it.

“That’s not good enough!” Edward exploded,  gripping the collar of Roy’s wrinkled shirt in his flesh fist, looking ready to kill.  Roy reared back in shock at the reaction, grabbing the kid’s wrist to try and pry him off, but Edward held the fabric tight.  “Give me a real reason!  Tell me why!”

The kid was shaking now, shaking violently, growing erratic and wild, and Roy placed both hands on his shoulders to try and steady him, but Edward only pulled Roy forward, his grip on the fabric so vicious Roy thought it would tear his shirt.

He was about to cuff the kid upside the head, clap a hand over his mouth to stop the bitter words from spilling, anything to get him to knock it the hell off and calm the hell down.

“Why haven’t you left me yet?”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Roy’s heart shattered into a thousand tiny, sharp pieces that dug their way into each of his organs as the bitter, broken words registered.  A horrible aching feeling filled his lungs and squeezed his heart and made it difficult to breathe.  The emotions that swirled in him were suffocating.

Roy had been wrong.  Edward wasn’t angry or upset, or even irritated.

He was terribly confused.

Edward’s head had fallen forward, his shoulders shaking with what Roy now understood was grief, his hand still wrapped around Roy's collar, albeit more loosely now.  The kid let out a soft, choking sound that made Roy’s stomach flip.

“Why would I leave you, Ed?

“He did,”  The kid choked on the words, letting out a quiet sniffle.  “She did.  Everyone leaves us.  No one stays,”

Roy didn’t need to ask who he was, or who she was.  Edward’s head was resting against his chest now, just below Roy’s chin, and he could feel the strands of golden hair rubbing against his skin.  Roy brought one hand from the boy’s shoulder to rest across Edward’s next, trailing his thumb across his skin in a comforting gesture.

“I’m not going to leave you, Ed,”

“Don’t lie,” He whispered, voice wet and trembling.

He sounded like he was crying.

“I’m not lying.  I'm being serious,”  Roy’s throat started to close, making it annoyingly difficult to speak, and a warm feeling was building up in the back of his eyes.  “I’m never going to leave you,”

“Every adult has always left,” Yes, the boy was definitely crying now.  It was obvious in the way his voice hitched up when he spoke and the way his breathing quivered.  “They've either died or walked out.  And I’ve been waiting for you to do the same!”  Edward’s voice rose in pitch, and Roy could feel hot tears soaking into the hem of his shirt.  “Everytime I kick in the door, or yell at you, call you a bastard, I’ve been waiting for you to say you’re fed up with me and kick me out,”  He was openly sobbing now, smacking a hand against Roy's chest.  “But you won’t,”

Roy felt broken.  So horribly, unbelievably broken at the boy’s words.  He was so angry, so disappointed with himself that he had never noticed beforehand what Edward had been struggling with for so long.  Screwing his eyes shut as his own tears threatened to fall down his face, he threw his other arm around the kid’s shoulders, holding him to his chest, hugging him excruciatingly tight. 

“I never will,” he choked out.

Edward collapsed into him then, throwing his arms around Roy’s shoulders, burying his face in the crook of Roy’s neck.  His hot, salty tears smeared across his skin, but Roy didn’t protest, rubbing his hand up and down the kid’s back to soothe him as his body shook with sobs.

“Why are you still here?  Why do you put up with me?” Edward hiccuped, voice muffled.

“Because you are important to me.”  Roy was losing the bottle with his emotions, his vision growing blurry and his voice breaking.  “Beyond work, beyond the Stone, you, Edward Elric, are important to me,”  He paused, taking in a shuddering breath.  “Not your title, or the potential promotions you could give me.  You.  Just you.  That’s all I need,”

Roy could feel thin tears creeping out of his eyes, and he swallowed roughly, burying his face into Edward’s hair.  The kid curled tighter into him, the heartwrenching crying starting to pitter out.  Roy held him tight, so tight he was sure it was hurting the boy’s broken ribs, but he couldn’t help himself, wanting Edward to feel safe and comforted and cared for.

He wanted him to feel loved.

“Why wasn’t it enough for him?”

There was that him again.  The one that had started all this, the one that had started the feelings of abandonment and fear and resentment, who made it nearly impossible for Edward to place his trust in adults again, even though he was still just a kid.  Edward made it obvious how much he hated him

Roy found himself hating him too.

“I don’t know,” He said softly, continuing to rub his hand up and down the boy’s back.  “But he was an idiot.  A stupid son of a bitch that left behind two wonderful kids who deserved a father,”  Roy choked on the words, swallowing down a potenital sob.  He hadn’t had a father, so the term was difficult for him.  But he had had his foster mother, who raised him lovingly and kindly and gave him a family.

Roy wanted Edward to have that too.

“He didn’t know how lucky he was,”

“Lucky?”  Edward was impossibly quiet, tears still streaming down his cheeks and onto Roy’s shirt, voice hoarse with emotion instead of sickness.  “How?”

“Because he had you.  He had you as his son,”

Edward broke down into another fit of sobbing, allowing Roy to shush him and comfort him in the awkward way he knew how.  He didn’t ask anymore questions, demand anymore answers, simply let the man assure him with soft words of kindness and gentle gestures of affection.

The boy fell asleep like that, tucked into Roy’s chest and Roy’s arms wrapped around him in a protective embrace, the crying and emotional turmoil of the conversation tiring him out.  Roy fell asleep too, his forehead resting against Edward’s temple as the boy curled himself into his lap.  It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, but Roy didn’t care.

Edward got better.  That ended up being that last difficult night either of them had.  He stayed in Roy’s apartment for three more days, entertaining himself with books and TV when Roy went to work and eating dinner with him when he got back.  Even as the coughing improved, Roy stayed sleeping in the armchair, just in case.

His ribs ended up taking another two and half weeks to heal, and Roy had confined him to desk duties until he received a clean bill of health, which his Major protested half-heartedly against.  The office ended up being much more lively as Edward got up to his usual antics that normally happened outside the office.  Too often, Roy would hear screaming and leave his private office to find Edward chasing one of the team around with his automail blade or performing some type of outrageous alchemy.

Hawkeye, surprisingly, paid it no mind.

She had been surprisingly doting on the boy ever since he came back to work, helping him with his paperwork and striking conversation with him.  Edward seemed to thoroughly enjoy the attention she gave him, listening to her words intently and wanting to make her proud with how well he finished his work.  He went with her on coffee runs and sat between her and Roy at lunch, rambling about the strangest things.  Hawkeye would always ruffle his hair, give him words of encouragement, and Edward would beam.

Roy and Edward never spoke of the days they had spent together, and it was strictly off the table as a topic of conversation or teasing in the office.  Edward would mention it sometimes, like when Roy was running behind on paperwork and Edward would ask if he needed any “illegal” help, or he would joke about how he had gotten much better at poker and wanted a rematch, which he never did end up winning, but that would be it.

And Roy was ok with that, because now he understood Edward Elric and the way his mind worked.  And his Major, still brash and rude and unruly, was no longer afraid Roy would grow tired of him and leave.  It took some time, but Edward grew far more confident, swindling Roy out of pocket money and asking for help when he needed it.  Roy knew he didn’t understand everything about the boy, but he knew enough that he was confident he could provide help when the time came.  He knew Edward would call for him when his problems grew too big.

That was all he ever wanted.