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The phone rings in the middle of the night, startling Ed awake. He bolts upright and looks around, disoriented until the phone rings again and he realizes what woke him. He untangles himself from the blankets and quickly makes his way to the phone on the wall of his small apartment's hallway.
"H'llo?" He can't quite hold back a yawn. What time is it anyway?
Hawkeye's voice crackles over the line. "I'm sorry to wake you, Edward, but—"
Suddenly Ed's wide awake, heart pounding in his throat and chest tightening with fear. "Hawkeye? What happened?"
"The General's train was hijacked and it derailed last night a half hour outside of Central. We're in the emergency waiting room at the hospital. There is extra security in place, but I've told them to let you through as soon as you arrive. Havoc should be there with a car soon if he's not already. I can tell you more in person."
Ed thinks he manages to reply with something before he hangs the phone up, but everything feels suddenly muted. He quickly goes back to his room to pull on some clothes and then he's jamming his feet into his boots, grabbing his keys, and booking it out the door all within a span of a few minutes. Jean is indeed waiting outside in a standard military issued car and Ed yanks the door open, dropping into the seat and then closing it behind him quickly.
Jean gives him a weak smile, but doesn't say anything or even wait for Ed to get his seatbelt fully on before he's pulling back out onto the street. Ed's grateful for it, yet it only exacerbates his fear of how serious Roy's condition must be. He doesn't try to fill the silence, just watches the streetlamps zip by and clenches his hands into fists in his lap to keep them from shaking.
By the time they arrive at the hospital, the fear has settled in his veins like ice water and Ed shoves his way past the security guards with not a single fuck given. He hears Jean vouching for Ed and he'll have to remember to thank him later when he has his head on straight again because right now the only thing that matters to him is getting to Roy. Well, getting to Hawkeye to figure out just what the hell happened and how bad it is.
He can make out Hawkeye, Breda, and Kain sitting in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs and they rise to their feet as he skids to a stop in front of them. Ed can't even imagine how wild his eyes must look because Hawkeye immediately reaches forward to put both hands on his upper arms with just the right amount of pressure that helps ground him. She's far too good for any of them, truly.
"He's in surgery now. He has a dislocated shoulder, a broken leg, bruised or fractured ribs—they weren't quite sure yet when the doctor came to speak to us last. A lot of external and internal bleeding and likely more we don't know of yet. They're operating now to stop the worst of the bleeding so they can figure out exactly how bad everything else is."
Ed nods, looking from her to the doors behind them and back again. "Okay. Okay—and he'll… he's going to be okay after they figure it out and do all their medical fixing shit to him, right?"
Hawkeye's eyes dart away from Ed's and he sees her take a shuddering breath in. "We… We won't know for sure until they're through with this procedure."
Ed shakes his head over and over again. He can't breathe. This can't be happening. He thinks Hawkeye's still speaking, but everything sounds like he's been thrown underwater. He can't seem to catch his breath and his vision is narrowing around the edges. Fuck. Panic attack, then. Ed hasn't had one of these in over a year. He'd been naive to think they'd never happen again.
Someone—probably Hawkeye if she'd still been holding onto him—has managed to get him into a chair. He knows he's sitting down, but he can't feel anything outside of the stabbing pain in his chest rippling out through his nerves. Ed squeezes his eyes shut. He has to get it together. He can't just fall apart like this. Not in front of anyone else. And what right does he even have to be falling apart? The others seem to have their shit together so why the fuck can't he calm down? Logically, he knows that they're not okay, either. None of them will be until they know for sure that Roy is going to be alright. And he is going to be alright. Ed refuses to give any semblance of a thought to any other outcome. There simply is no other option. Roy will be fine or Ed will kick his ass. Roy's not allowed to leave him—leave them. Not now. Not for a long ass time.
He knows he's moved into hyperventilation territory and somehow manages to get his head between his knees and hands on the back of his neck. Ed's eyes sting with tears he's refusing to let shed. There's a sensation on his back and it takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize that someone is rubbing it in an attempt to comfort him. Fuck. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a shaky breath in, holding it for as long as he can before blowing it out slowly. After a few tries, Ed manages to take an actual deep breath in and then back out.
Sounds filter back in slowly. The feeling of Hawkeye's reassuring hand on his back is enough to make him want to let the tears burst from him, but he chokes them down and slowly lifts himself back up into an upright sitting position. His eyes are still clenched shut and his hands are shaking, but Ed swallows once, twice, and tries to speak.
"S-Sorry."
"Don't be, Ed. There is no need to apologize for anything you're feeling right now. Not a one of us are okay." Hawkeye's voice is gentle and her eyes are red-rimmed and glossy when Ed manages to make eye contact once more.
Ed opens his mouth to respond when Hawkeye's gaze snaps up behind him and she's getting to her feet quickly. He follows suit and sees the doctor coming their way, blood on his hands and coat—Roy's blood. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Ed forces his eyes and thoughts away and reaches for Hawkeye's hand to offer any kind of comfort he might be able to in return—and selfishly holding onto her as an anchor so he doesn't drift back off into the deep end.
"We managed to slow and clear out enough of the bleeding to get a better idea of the extent of the General's wounds. It seems unfortunately something quite large pierced through the already existing scar on his abdomen. Due to the way his previous wound had healed and his internal organs had resituated themselves, he will remain in a secondary surgery for quite some time trying to repair the worst of it. I wish that I could give you more comfort, but I will not lie to you—the damage is extensive and he's not out of the woods yet. I promise we will do all we can. You'll be informed of any changes or developments as soon as possible. I best get back so I can help ensure your General makes it back to you all."
And just like that, the doctor disappears back through the same doors and they're left on their own again. Hawkeye squeezes Ed's hand and it startles him. He'd forgotten he'd taken hold of it and he looks to her, unable to even offer the smallest of smiles. He can't manage to make himself put on a brave face right now. Not that it would matter, the team'd just see right through any fake bullshit he bothered to put on anyway. So why bother.
As he lets go of Hawkeye's hand so she can go fill in the rest of the team, Ed's suddenly hit with the overwhelming desire to have Al here at his side. Al always makes everything just a little bit better—a little easier to handle. His eyes survey the room and he sees a phone just across the waiting room. Not bothering to get permission, Ed makes his way over and dials one of the small handful of numbers he knows by heart.
It takes three rings for the line to catch and his second favorite voice filters in, making him feel instantly just a little bit better. "Elric Residence, Alphonse speaking."
"Hey. It's me. Sorry for callin' so early." Ed sinks down into the seat, free hand wrapping around his own waist like that'll help hold him together.
"Brother? What's wrong? Where are you? Are you okay?" Al's voice is frantic and Ed feels a twinge of guilt for making his baby brother panic so early in the morning.
"I'm okay. It's Roy. He's—his train got attacked and it crashed and he's in surgery and they d-don't know if he—" Ed's voice catches in his throat and he digs his fingers into his side.
"Oh, Ed. I'm so sorry." He can hear the pain in Al's voice as if it were his own. "I'll be on the first train there."
"No, you don't gotta come. You've got your own shit. I just—I just needed…"
"I'm here, Brother. Always. Is the team there with you? You're not alone, right?"
"They're all here, yeah." Ed forces a deep breath out again. "Thanks, Al."
"No need. You know that. Are you sure you don't want me to come down?"
"M'sure. Aren't you and Scar on your way to Ishval later today?"
"I mean, yeah, but he won't mind if we postpone. If you need me, that's way more important, Brother."
Ed shakes his head and doubles down. "There's nothin' you'd be able to do here besides wait around with the rest of us, anyway. There's no tellin' how long Roy'll be in surgery or what'll happen after or anything. Really, I'll be alright—just talking to you has helped."
"Okay. Alright, if you're sure. He's going to be okay, Brother." Al's voice is soft and reassuring, but Ed knows he never gets away that easily, even in the most dire of situations. "And when he does pull through, you need to tell him already. If you don't, I really will come down there and tell him myself."
"You wouldn't."
"Are you sure about that?"
Ed knows he will. Fuck. "Ugh. You're such a little—alright. I'll tell him. Once he's in a better condition."
"Good. I love you, Ed. Call if you need anything, okay? You've got the number for the place in Ishval still, right?"
"Mhm. Love you, too. Thanks, Al."
Once the line goes dead, Ed hangs up and forces himself to get back up and over to the others. Breda's passing out coffees and hands Ed one with a little half-smile, so Ed forces some kind of movement out of his lips and thanks him before plopping back into the seat next to Hawkeye to wait.
The sun rises and is beginning to set again before they hear any word. Hawkeye sent the others to get some sleep so it's just she and Ed who jump up at the sight of the same doctor as before. He looks more exhausted, but at least he seems to have been able to change clothes so he's no longer drenched in Roy's blood. Ed doesn't think he'd be able to handle seeing it again.
"The second surgery went well, but we'll have to keep a very close eye on him through the night and I'm afraid that means he can't have any visitors yet. We can't risk any outside contamination post-op with injuries as extensive as his. If all goes well and nothing of concern pops up by morning, we should be able to move him to a room in the ICU. It was very touch and go for a while there, but I believe he will make a full recovery. Though it might take quite some time before he's fit to return to even the lightest amount of duty, I'm afraid."
"Thank you, doctor. That's wonderful news." Hawkeye's always been so good at detaching from her emotions and presenting a professional front. Ed envies that ability.
The doctor nods and offers a tired smile. "I don't suppose I can convince the two of you to go home and get a decent amount of rest?"
Ed's already shaking his head and Hawkeye turns to him when she catches the movement. "I'll stay. You should go home for at least a few hours, Hawkeye. I can call if anything changes."
Hawkeye nods in acceptance after a few moments and Ed holds back a sigh of relief. He really didn't want to have to try and fight her on it. She pulls him into a gentle hug and it's all Ed can do to keep himself from breaking down again.
"He's going to be fine." She whispers in his ear before pulling away with a small smile. It's tired, but genuine for the first time since he'd gotten to the hospital.
He nods and watches as Hawkeye walks off, talking to the doctor about who knows what. Stuff that would just go over Ed's head right about now, he's sure. Ed falls limply back into a chair, settling in to wait 'til morning in the hopes he'll be able to see with his own eyes that Roy is alive and that he is going to be okay. He knows he won't be able to sleep until then.
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It's nearing eight in the morning when someone taps Ed on the shoulder. He blinks up at the person, not realizing he must've been completely zoned out for who knows how long. Once he sees her scrubs, Ed's snapping into high alert mode again.
"Did something happen? Is he okay?"
A young nurse looks at him with kind eyes and a kind smile. She reminds him of Winry. "I'm so sorry to scare you, sir. Mr. Mustang has just been moved to a private room in the ICU and his doctor left a note to inform you of any changes."
Ed lets out a sigh of relief and nods in understanding. "Oh. Thank you. Is he allowed visitors?"
She smiles a little wider like she expected that question from the start. "Yes, I can take you on back now. He may not be awake—he's on some pretty strong pain medicine so he'll be in and out of consciousness a lot—but I'll let the staff know you've got clearance to be there so you can stay as long as you'd like. Is there anyone else we should inform?"
Ed looks around the room, noting he was the only one in the waiting room as he had been all through the night. "Oh, um, Captain Riza Hawkeye. I told her I'd call with any updates, so I can do that. I'm sure you're real busy with other things and you've all done so much already."
"It's no trouble at all! I'll take you back to Mr. Mustang's room and then I'll make that call, how's that sound? I was told you've been out here all night and I'm sure it'd ease your mind to see him for yourself, hm?"
He can feel his cheeks warming as he rubs at the back of his neck in embarrassment. "That obvious, huh?"
"It's very common, especially on this side of the hospital." The nurse just begins leading him through the double doors, down a couple of halls, and then stops in front of one of the closed private rooms. "Now, you're aware it was quite the accident and he's been through multiple surgeries, yes?"
Ed nods anxiously, eyes locked on the little window in the door. His heart is ricocheting around in his chest as the nurse opens the door and ushers him in with a promise to call Hawkeye with the news. He's not sure if he actually voiced his thanks, but she's gone before he can even begin to feel bad about his probably shitty manners.
Ed's feet carry him forward and his throat feels tight as he takes in this battered and bloody version of his—of Roy. His eyes are closed—one of them just about swollen shut—and the rest of his face is littered with bruises and cuts. So much of Roy is covered in bandages. One arm is in a sling. He's got a leg raised up to keep it elevated in place. The only part of him that Ed can't bring himself to look at directly is his stomach where he can see the bandages begin to tinge pink and red even at a quick glance. Ed can't stop thinking about how lucky it is that Roy's even alive right now—can't stop thinking about how close he was to losing Roy forever. This kind of thing shouldn't happen to Roy—they were in peace times and he had a nice, cushy desk job and there was no active plot to end the world now. He's already been through enough. Ed should be the one—
A voice, quiet and raspy and heartstoppingly familiar pulls him from his thoughts. "Ed?"
"Hey. Yeah, it's me." Ed quickly scoots a chair up and sits himself as close as he possibly can, reaching for the glass of water on the bedside table.
Roy sips slowly and Ed tries not to break further watching how hard even that simple action seems to be for him right now. "You're… really here?"
" 'Course I am." Ed whispers, clutching his hands together tightly after setting the glass back down to keep himself from reaching out.
But in the next breath there are shaky, bandage covered fingers moving slowly towards him and Ed can't fight the tears off anymore. He's just too weak and exhausted to hold himself back. He scoots forward to the very edge of the chair and so, so gently takes hold of those fingers in both of his and rests his forehead on the back of Roy's hand, unable to fully stop the sob that bubbles up his throat.
"I was so scared, Roy. I thought you were—" Ed whispers honestly, doing his best to quiet his cries, eyes squeezed shut against the reassuring warmth of Roy—tangible, here, alive.
Roy's voice—even strained and lacking its usual smooth timbre—is the best sound Ed's ever heard. Ed wants to drown in the warmth and comfort of it. "I'm right here. Not going anywhere, Ed. Promise."
Ed allows himself a minute more of weakness and then does his best to pull himself together. Since when did he fall apart so easily, anyway? "Sorry. Shit, I'm sorry. Is there—are you okay? Can I get you anything? Should I get the nurse for you?"
Roy's fingers stay curled around Ed's as much as he can manage and the eye that's not nearly swollen shut is full of just as much warmth as his voice and some emotion Ed can't quite figure out as their eyes lock. "Just—stay with me?"
Ed nods with something he hopes comes across as a smile, breath stuttering out of him as he lets the feel of Roy's hand in his anchor him. "As if you could ever get rid of me."
Keeping his voice low and steady, Ed talks about the team and how he's sure Hawkeye and everyone else'll be popping in at some point in the day. He talks about nothing much at all until he notices Roy's breathing evening out as he falls back asleep. Only then does he allow himself to reach up and brush Roy's hair from his face, fingers running gently through the strands. He indulges himself for a few minutes before he rests his arm on the guardrail of the bed, laying his head down as his eyes begin to droop. Ed doesn't let go of Roy's hand for even a moment as he finally lets sleep take hold of him.
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Nearly a week goes by before Roy is released with strict instructions to remain in bed as much as possible and to keep stress to an absolute minimum. Prior to release, Hawkeye had gone to make sure Roy's place was set up and ready for anything he'd be needing for his recovery period.
Before it was even brought up, Ed had volunteered to stay with Roy as much as possible to help and make sure he was following everything the doctors said. Hawkeye and the kind nurse from the first day both sent him a knowing look that Ed very pointedly pretended to ignore.
Ed should have known that it wouldn't be easy to get Roy to let himself be cared for. He was as stubborn as Ed—maybe even moreso at times. This was one of those times. All Ed had wanted was to check Roy's bandages and change any that needed it before giving him the next dose of pain meds.
"Would you just stop being such a stubborn bastard and let me fuckin' take care of you?! Weren't you the one who told me that it's okay to not be strong all the time and that I could lean on you if I needed to? Well that goes both fuckin' ways 'n I thought you knew that already but apparently I need to remind you. So this is me remindin' you!" Ed's blood is beginning to boil and he's so sleep-deprived from being at the hospital every possible moment to now worrying every single second that something's going to go wrong and he won't be able to do anything or get help in time. He can't keep the frustration at bay and his brain-to-mouth filter's just about busted.
Still Roy refuses to yield and Ed's this close to genuinely screaming. "This is not your responsibility. I am not your responsibility. I am capable of taking care of myself, Edward. The medical staff would not have cleared me for release had I not been in a good enough condition to handle taking care of myself in my own—"
"Well excuse fucking me for fucking caring! Do you even—I don't think you get it, Roy! When I got to the hospital, they weren't even sure if you'd make it! They thought you might not survive the surgeries! They said it had been a really fucking close call and I just—I can't…! Do you have any idea how it would have felt for me to lose—" Ed drags his hands over his face. He really needs to get himself under control. He can't afford to let his emotions get the best of him in front of Roy like this. He's supposed to be helping, for fuck's sake, not making it about his own damn feelings. "Whatever. Forget it. I'm sorry. Just—if you don't want me here, okay. I get it. I'll call Hawkeye in the morning so she can take over or something, but you're stuck with me at least for the rest of tonight so you'll just have to deal. I'm gonna go take care of these."
Roy's hand darts out to grip Ed's wrist before he can even pick up the discarded dishes, his voice rough with emotion. "Please don't go."
"I'm just goin' downstairs to wash the dishes. I'll come check on you again after." Ed doesn't want to risk hurting Roy further by yanking out of his hold, but Ed also doesn't want the bastard to see him cry. Again. At the hospital was bad enough.
Roy's grip tightens and so does Ed's throat. "No, I mean—I don't want you to leave in the morning. I don't want you to leave at all."
"Funny way of showin' it." Ed mumbles, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice and wincing inwardly.
"I know. I'm sorry, I just—I never wanted to become a burden to you."
Ed lets out his breath slowly, refusing to face Roy now when his eyes burn with the tears he's holding back. "Well, you're not. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be. So will you just… let me help? Or at least tell me what you need?"
"Do you remember what I said to you before I got on the train for that trip?" Roy asks after a long pause, the subject change throwing Ed for a loop.
Finally turning around, he stares down at Roy where he's propped up against the headboard of the bed. Roy's fingers slide down from Ed's wrist to lace their fingers together as he continues talking and suddenly Ed finds it hard to breathe.
Ed nods, his eyes staying glued to their hands. "You said there was something you wanted to ask me—when you got back."
"Yes. It's something that I've been wanting to ask for quite some time, but I always managed to talk myself out of it. I was too… afraid, I suppose. Afraid of losing you. Afraid of what might change. Afraid of just how much of me you already hold and you don't even seem to realize it."
Ed's heart is thundering in his chest and it feels like a thousand butterflies are wreaking havoc on his insides. "Roy, what are you—"
But Roy cuts him off, gently squeezing his hand. "I wanted to ask—I want to ask if you would let me take you out. On a date. Or it doesn't have to be out, if you'd prefer. It could be here or your apartment or just… anywhere. Anywhere you want. I just—I would be honored if you'd allow me the opportunity to court you. I know you may think it a bit foolish or perhaps even unnecessary, but you deserve to be properly courted and romanced and I would really love to give you that. If you'd let me."
Taking a step forward, Ed sits down on the mattress next to Roy and raises their intertwined hands up against his chest where he's sure Roy will likely be able to feel his racing heartbeat. He can't find it in himself to mind all that much. For the first time since Roy's accident, Ed feels a genuinely happy smile tugging at his lips.
"You're not just sayin' all this 'cause you had a near-death experience, right? 'Cause if you are, I will kick your ass. I don't care how banged up you already are."
Roy chuckles, smiling as much as he can with half of his face still somewhat swollen. "I promise I've been wanting to say this and more to you for a long while now."
"Well, good. 'Cause I've been wanting this for a long time, too. So yeah, you can court the hell outta me. It is kinda unnecessary 'cause I'm a pretty sure thing y'know, but I figure it'll make you happy to do things your way so go ahead and hit me with all of your sappy, cheesy romantic shit." Ed's face feels hot all over, but Roy's hand in his and seeing how happy Roy looks is worth everything and more.
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An hour later after Ed had successfully managed to change Roy's bandages and given him some more pain meds, Roy's fast asleep and Ed has a plan to set in motion. He carefully slips out of the bedroom and makes his way to the entryway, snagging Roy's keys out of the little bowl by the door and slipping into his boots. Making sure he's got enough money on him, Ed quickly heads out to the nearby shops.
He searches through the aisles of the grocery as quickly as possible, picking up all of the ingredients he remembers are needed to make one of the baked pasta dishes Gracia had taught him as well as a bottle of sparkling juice since Roy's not allowed alcohol right now.
The next stop is the bakery where Ed smiles his way through small talk with the owners as they package up one of their heavenly strawberry cakes as well as a few of Roy's favorite pastries for breakfast in the morning. Then Ed's picking up a bouquet of red roses from the small flower stall nearest Roy's place where the older florist winks at him before handing over the bundle.
Thankfully the streets didn't seem to be especially busy so no one would see him struggling a little to carry everything back without crushing or dropping any of it. Ed manages to get back inside with everything in tact and he sets everything down on Roy's little kitchen table so he can get to work making dinner.
Once everything is cooked thoroughly enough for him to throw the pasta dish into the oven, Ed takes the opportunity to go check on Roy and also grab the serving tray. Quiet snores are filtering through the open door and Ed can't help but smile as he tiptoes in to snag the tray.
He gets down two plates and two of Roy's fancy wine glasses, setting them up on the tray alongside napkins and cutlery. After a little deliberation, Ed plucks some of the outer petals from the roses and places them around everything as well as a couple on top of the small strawberry cake in between their plates. If Al could see how sappy he was being…
Checking the oven, he finds the cheese atop the pasta is perfectly melted and it's all brown around the edges. Ed smiles to himself as he scoops some out onto both of their plates and pours some of the sparkling juice in their glasses. Carefully, he tucks the bouquet under the tray so he can carry everything easily and slowly makes his way back to the bedroom.
"Something smells delicious." Roy voices through a yawn.
"Hopefully it'll taste as good as it smells. Hold on, lemme set this down." Ed places the tray and flowers on the floor so he can help Roy back into a sitting position, carefully wedging an extra pillow behind him for comfort.
Picking the tray back up, Ed tries and fails to keep himself from getting flustered as he moves to sit on the mattress so he can set the tray over Roy's legs. "I, um—well—I was thinkin' that it'll probably be a while before you're okay enough to go out and I kinda didn't wanna wait that long to finally have our first date, so—"
"You did all this while I was asleep?" Roy's voice sounds a little rough as he looks over everything.
Ed nods as he feels the tips of his ears start to warm and the nerves getting the best of him. "I've never… really done any of this kinda stuff before, but—I wanna romance you, too, y'know? You deserve it just as much as you think I do. So I ran to the store so I could make one of Gracia's recipes and got some fancy sparkling juice since you can't have wine right now and went to that really good bakery for the cake and got you roses 'cause those always seem extra romantic and, um—is that—I mean, I know it's not all that fancy, but, um… is it okay?"
"Ed, it's—" Roy's voice cracks and Ed's eyes widen as he watches a tear slide down Roy's cheek. "This is—it's perfect. You're perfect. I can't believe you really did all of this for me."
Scooting forward so he can gently cup Roy's cheek in his hand and swipe away the tears with his thumb, Ed smiles softly. "I'd do pretty much anything for you, thought it was pretty obvious by now."
"The same's true for me, you know." Roy leans into the touch as best he can and smiles right back.
Ed hums and nods, his eyes taking in every beautiful bit of this beautiful man. This beautiful man who might somehow be his. "I'm really happy you're alive, Roy."
"I'm happy you're alive right here with me, sweetheart. You're stuck with me for as long as possible, I assure you." Roy reaches out and runs his fingers through Ed's fringe, wincing as he leans forward and before Ed can even panic over Roy moving too much there are lips covering his.
Roy's mouth is soft despite the cut running along the right corner and Ed can't help but to press into the contact eagerly. There's a hand on the back of his neck pulling him in closer and Ed allows himself to be tugged against Roy's chest. The kiss is sweet and warm and perfect. Ed doesn't know how to handle how happy and light he feels inside, but he really hopes Roy feels even a fraction of what he's feeling right now.
They part slowly and once Ed manages to pull himself out of Roy's orbit enough to grab the flowers from under the tray, he places them carefully on Roy's lap with a soft smile.
"I hope you have a vase 'cause I didn't pick one up. Guess I can always go back out and get one, though." Ed shrugs, fingers running through Roys hair to push it out of his eyes because he's just allowed to do that now. And judging by the way Roy seems to melt into the touch—it's very much appreciated.
Roy hums happily and runs his fingers over the petals. "I've got one or two around here somewhere. They're beautiful, Ed. Thank you."
Ed's cheeks warm again as he shakes his head with a smile, turning back to pull the tray within reach. "Now, hurry up and eat before all my hard work gets cold."
As they eat and flirt and touch freely between bites and just revel in the fact that this is even possible after everything, Ed's struck with the crystal clear realization that this is it. This is everything he has ever wanted. Roy is everything Ed has ever wanted.