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Day 29: Asking for Help
Finally, a day of quiet.
The past couple of weeks had kept Roy’s team exceptionally busy with tracking and subduing an extremist group South of East City, but they’d managed to keep the case quick and quiet. Roy’s team was the best of the best, and this case had proven exactly why he’d chosen each of them.
Speaking of—he hadn’t heard from Fullmetal in a few months. He would have been a welcome asset to the case, but he and his brother had apparently found another lead somewhere in the South Area and disappeared with nothing more than a note left on Roy’s desk. Roy had no idea where they were now. Maybe he should keep better track of where his subordinate ran off to.
Roy took a sip of his coffee and flipped through the week’s report. Fullmetal had never been the subtle type. He tried to keep things vague on the rare occasions he disclosed his destinations to Roy, but he left a very obvious trail wherever he went, whether it was tacky repairs, civilian rumors of a golden-haired hero, or collateral damage. Roy was sure he’d find out where he’d gone soon enough through the word on the street or an invoice for reimbursement.
His telephone rang. If Hughes was calling to bother him about his family again, Roy wouldn’t hesitate to shout a few choice words through the receiver. Couldn’t he get one day to relax?
He picked up the telephone and put it against his ear before he could convince himself to simply ignore the call. “Colonel Mustang.”
“You have an incoming call from Major Elric, sir.”
Speak of the devil. He was probably calling to complain about something or another. “Put him through.”
There came a click, and then Fullmetal’s voice came through. “Hey, Colonel.”
“Hello, Fullmetal. To what do I owe this lovely telephone call?” Roy put as much sarcasm as he could into his voice for bothering him on his first slow day in weeks.
“Yeah, um, I think I’ve been shot.”
Roy’s mind went blank and his voice stuck in his throat. It took him three times to speak. “What?”
“I think I’ve been shot,” Fullmetal said again. He sounded awfully calm for the situation.
“You—you think?” Roy shook his head and swallowed hard. “Where are you?”
“Uh…a street away from the warehouse district. East City. I can see tracks from here. Um, the area’s blocked off.”
“What? Why?”
“Construction, I think.”
Actually, that was perfect. Roy knew exactly what street he was on. A pipe had burst and flooded the street a few days ago, so the MPs had closed off the entire area.
“Alright. Don’t move; I’ll be right there.”
“Okay. Um…hurry, please.”
He’d said please. Fullmetal had actually said please when asking Roy for something. This was far more serious than his voice made it sound.
Roy hung up and jumped to his feet, throwing his coat over his shoulders. “Lieutenant Hawkeye, with me. Fuery, get me a medical transport to the warehouse district, by the construction area. Somewhere around Elmwood. Havoc, Breda, Falman, follow us in a separate vehicle.”
“What’s going on, sir?” Hawkeye asked as she followed him sprinting down the hall.
“Fullmetal’s been shot. We’re going to get him to safety, and then we’re going to find out who did it.”
“Shot? Where?”
“I don’t know. He sounded like he was in shock, but he told me to hurry, and he actually said please.”
Alarm flooded Hawkeye’s normally stoic expression. “We’ll take my car to get to the warehouse district faster, but with the construction on Elmwood, we’ll have to get the rest of the way on foot.”
“Right. Is the medical kit still in the back of your car?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Perfect.”
While Hawkeye started the car, Roy quickly checked the kit. All he cared about currently was the large roll of gauze, and there was plenty of it, so he climbed in the passenger seat. Hawkeye took off with a screech of tires, narrowly avoiding a couple pedestrians, and gunned it down the street. Roy’s grip on the door handle turned his knuckles white.
The warehouse district wasn’t too far away by car, and Hawkeye got them there in record time. Roy grabbed the kit and threw the door open before the car had fully stopped, hurling himself towards the construction barricade. Two construction workers had just pulled up, likely to get started for the day, and their eyes went wide as Roy and Hawkeye sprinted past them. One of them shouted a question, but neither of them moved to intercept them, so Roy didn’t bother listening.
They ran three blocks to the only telephone booth on the street, and thank God, there he was, slumped against the inside of the booth with his hands pressed against his stomach.
“Fullmetal!” Roy called as they approached, and the kid’s head raised just enough for their eyes to meet. Good, he was still conscious.
“H-hey,” he said with a tiny pained smile as Roy and Hawkeye dropped to their knees beside him. His white gloves were completely soaked in red, and his black shirt was very, very wet.
“Let me see,” Roy demanded.
Fullmetal swallowed hard, beads of sweat dripping down his face. His hands trembled as he removed them from his stomach, and his face screwed up in pain. Roy carefully untucked his shirt and lifted it up to see the wound.
The perfectly round hole was definitely a gunshot wound. No fouling or stippling, so he’d been shot from a distance. Hawkeye handed him a thick wad of gauze, and Roy pressed it against the wound. Fullmetal choked out a cry as every one of his muscles tightened, and his hands twitched towards Roy’s, instinctually trying to protect himself.
“Breathe with me, Fullmetal,” Roy said, forcing his voice to remain even. “We’re going to lift you up for a second to check for an exit wound and then move you out of the booth. Try to keep your breathing steady.”
Fullmetal drew in ragged, frantic breaths, but nodded. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to take a deep breath, only to let it out in a whimper.
Hawkeye positioned herself at Fullmetal’s side and put her hands on his shoulder. “Ready?”
The kid nodded again, gritting his teeth in preparation. Roy and Hawkeye gently leaned him forward, and his shout of pain made Roy cringe. It was easy to forget how young he was when he performed alchemy or won battles against opponents twice his size, but Roy could hear his age break through in the shout. Edward was still a child, no matter how grown up he pretended to be.
“No exit wound,” Hawkeye said.
Fullmetal hissed through his teeth as they gently laid him down on the ground. “Is—is that bad?”
“No,” Roy said, as Hawkeye took off her uniform jacket and tucked it under the kid’s head. “You’ll be fine.”
“‘kay.” He coughed and cried out, spasming under Roy’s hands. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, but they didn’t fall. “D-damn it…”
Warm blood seeped through the gauze and wet Roy’s fingers. Hawkeye helped add another wad to the wound without releasing the pressure. Fullmetal’s eyelids fluttered.
“Stay awake for me, Fullmetal,” Roy ordered. “Focus on your breathing.”
“H-hurts…” His face was alarmingly pale, and his skin was clammy with sweat. He spoke in a timid, vulnerable tone that brought Roy back to the terrible nights in the desert, and suddenly Roy was holding his desert jacket against the mangled stomach of an Ishvalan child.
“I know it hurts.” Roy’s voice cracked. “Just try to breathe.”
“Where’s Alphonse, Ed?” Hawkeye said.
“I…dunno.” Edward’s eyelids fluttered again as he struggled to stay awake. “G-guy came out—outta nowhere. T-told Al to…go after ‘im so I…could call.”
“Do you know the guy who shot you?”
He shook his head. “Didn’....even…say anything.”
“Colonel!” Havoc shouted from down the street. Breda and Falman were right behind him. “What happened?”
“Split up and find Alphonse,” Roy ordered. “He’s gone after an armed man who shot at Fullmetal unprompted. What’s the status of the medical transport?”
“The construction crew is moving the barricades to get them in,” Havoc said. His eyes dropped to Roy’s bloodsoaked hands and he forced a smile. “Hey, Chief. You doing okay?”
Edward cracked a tiny smile and gave him a weak thumbs-up.
“Just hang in there. The medical transport is almost here.” Havoc gave a quick salute, and then the three of them split off into the warehouse district across the street.
Sure enough, the transport arrived only a minute later, though the seconds ticked by like eternities as Roy knelt with his hands against Edward’s bleeding stomach. The medical team took over, and as Roy began to step back, the kid reached for his hand, half-conscious, but deliberate. Roy heard the question that hung in the air without it needing to be spoken.
Please.
Roy took his hand without thinking, and Edward’s bloody fingers curled around his palm.
Hawkeye joined the rest of the team in searching for Alphonse and the armed assailant, and Roy squeezed Edward's hand as he rode with him in the ambulance. By the time they made it to the hospital, Edward had finally succumbed to unconsciousness. The hospital staff rushed him away, leaving Roy standing in the hallway feeling completely helpless.
About an hour later, Hawkeye and Alphonse came by to give an update. Alphonse had a few dents in his breastplate, but he was practically immortal, so Roy wasn't worried. Hawkeye was unharmed, and she reported that the rest of the team was safe as well. They'd caught the man with no further injuries, thanks to Alphonse keeping him occupied.
The man had been part of the extremist group Roy and the team had busted. He had seen Fullmetal snooping around and recognized him as one of Roy's subordinates, so he'd shot him on sight. Roy would have some choice words for him during the interrogation.
A few hours after that, a nurse let them into Edward's room. They'd moved him upstairs once he'd stabilized, and Roy breathed a sigh of relief.
Edward was awake when they came in, looking exhausted but aware. He was hooked up to an IV, but no blood bags. He must have passed out from shock rather than blood loss. He smiled when he saw them and held up something in between his finger and thumb.
“Check it out,” he said, his voice slightly wobbly, probably from the painkillers. “They let me keep the bullet.”
“That's disgusting, Brother,” Alphonse said.
“It's cool.” Edward rolled his eyes and dropped his arm back to the bed. “I'm definitely gonna put it on a cord or something. A good luck charm.”
“You know, Fullmetal,” Roy said, coming in to sit in the chair across from the hospital bed, “the only reason you were so lucky is because we were close by. You should have called the ambulance first.”
Edward's eyes dropped to his lap. “R-right. Sorry.”
“But.”
His eyes flickered back up, and Roy softened his expression.
“Thank you for calling me.”
Edward's gaze shifted awkwardly to the other side of the room. “Yeah, well, you said I could ask you for help if I needed anything, so.”
“I'm serious, Edward.”
The kid's head immediately snapped back up to look at him. “You called me by my name,” he said in disbelief.
“Because I'm serious.” Roy held his innocent golden gaze with a firm tenderness that scared him somewhere deep inside. Because it meant that he really cared about him, more than he was comfortable admitting. But that was a crisis for another day. “Thank you for calling me. Thank you for trusting me.”
Edward rolled the bullet between his finger and thumb, still staring at him with wide eyes. “I…yeah. You're welcome, I guess. And, um…” A flush spread across his cheeks, and he looked away. “Thanks for…you know…answering me.”
“I'll answer as many phone calls as it takes to keep you alive, kid. All you have to do is ask.”