Hi, there! This is a quick story I'm dedicating to StoryofLaughter and Dragonriderjedi. :3 I hope y'all enjoy this! By the way, I don't own FMA or any of the characters. I just like them and find great joy in putting them in hairy situations. By the was, this is not yaoi (or slash, depending on what you call it). Soli Deo gloria! :D
"Hey, Ed, do you mind watching the house for us?" Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes had been gushing about how he was taking his "adorable" daughter Elysia and his "gorgeous" wife Gracia out camping and needed someone to take care of his house. "It would only be for a day."
Edward Elric blinked. "Um, sure. Al and I are in town for the weekend, anyway."
"Great!" Hughes had figured the boys would not have to pay for a hotel room if they took care of his house. He grinned. "We'll be leaving this Friday at 5. Here's an extra house key. Thanks again! I'll take pictures to show you!" Hughes bit back a snicker at the boy's barely concealed groan.
Ed and Al settled into the house nicely. Al made a supper of soup for Ed. Shortly after 5:30, they heard knocking at the door. The brothers exchanged alarmed glances. They were only house-sitting for the Hughes family for the one night. What if the person outside the door was a thief or murderer? What if he would chase them around the house and destroy the furniture? While the two boys could certainly defend themselves against intruders, they did not want to ruin the house Hughes had let them occupy. They eventually decided to ignore their wariness and open the door. They were greatly surprised to see Colonel Roy Mustang leaning against the wall, drenched and shivering. His eyes, glazed with fever, did not sparkle with recognition at the sight of them. He did not even throw any short jokes at Ed. He simply breathed out, "Mind. . . if I—" before collapsing onto the pavement.
The action jolted the Elric brothers out of their confused stupor. They both tried to catch the man; however, both failed. With Mustang out cold on the Hughes's porch and torrential rainfall outside the comfort of the home, the Elrics knew they would be entertaining a guest for the night. Well, as the elder informed the younger, their guest seemed to need little entertainment.
Alphonse collected the limp colonel and laid him out on the couch by the fireplace. They set about making him comfortable. While Al lifted him up, Ed reached out his flesh hand to remove Roy's greatcoat. He recoiled his hand instantly upon touching the colonel's skin. "Al, he's freezing!"
"What do we do, brother?"
Ed paused and murmured, "We've got to get him out of the wet clothes or he'll catch a fever." He mentally added, Which I'm pretty sure he already has. He tried once more to strip the man of both his coat and military jacket. "Do we take off his shirt, too? I don't care what you say, but I refuse to take off his pants." He rubbed his aching arm port absently.
Al tugged off the colonel's black boots. "I'm not sure. Probably."
Ed rolled his eyes at the predicament into which Roy had gotten himself. "This is the one time you'll get sympathy from me, you idiot." Roy paid no mind and continued shivering. Water dripped off his hair onto the pillow Ed had placed there. Ed sighed and began to peel off the sodden white dress shirt.
Five minutes later had Roy Mustang lying on the couch, having not moved an inch. Thankfully, his shivering had ceased. His hair, still quite damp, fell into his eyes. He was covered in a thick (and now slightly soggy) blanket. He looked rough, his steady breathing and the marginal movement of his chest the only indication that he was alive.
"Of all the places, why'd Colonel Jerkface have to show up here?" Edward grumbled. He extended a finger and poked the cold, wet fabric covering an arm. Despite how violently he had executed the action, the colonel did not even stir.
"Brother, don't poke him so hard. Do you want him to wake up and attack you?" Alphonse sounded upset. In reality, his concern was a result of the colonel's lack of a reaction. "D—do you think he's dead?"
Ed shoved off the remark. "Of course he isn't. Why, his old age is supposed to kill him, not a little rain! Don't worry, Al." No matter what he said, Ed could not push away the twinge of fear for his superior officer's life. He looked to the chairs upon which they had hung Roy's water-saturated greatcoat, jacket, and dress shirt. The boots had not been moved from when Al had dropped them on the floor.
"Do we leave him on the couch all night?"
Ed glanced again at the colonel. "I guess not. Is Hughes's room clean enough for him to sleep in?" The boys had planned for Ed to sleep in the guest room. They had not even looked inside the other bedrooms.
Al brightened. "I'll check!" He seemed eager to leave, possibly so he would not have to see the helpless man unconscious on the couch.
"You dimwit!" Ed whisper-yelled. "Why'd you go and get yourself wet on a day like today? 'Oh, I'm Colonel Useless-in-the-Rain Mustang. Why not go for a walk today? It's the perfect rainy day for it!' Only imbecilic morons willingly do things that stupid!" He crossed his arms. His cross words were tinged with a hint of worry.
Just then, Roy groaned. He rolled to his right side and sneezed.
"Colonel?" Edward was relieved, which surprised him.
Mustang's labored breathing slowed as he fell back into unconsciousness. His left arm fell off the couch.
The blond sighed and sat down on the edge of the couch. He stewed over the events of the evening, spewing out insults to the colonel's brain capacity. "Dolt. Ninny. Ignoramus. Simpleton. Blockhead. Peabrai—"
He was cut off by the entrance of his brother. "It's clean. Do you want me to move him there?"
Ed nodded. He took the blanket and wrung it out to make it dry. He then carefully doused the fire. Al picked up the flaccid form of the colonel and carried him to the master bedroom. Mouth slightly open, Roy's head lolled against the chilly armor. When he was placed in the bed, he started to tremble again. Al covered him with a thick, green comforter. He observed the still figure in the bed and then paused. "Brother?"
"Yeah, Al?" Ed's voice rang from the living room.
Al brushed Roy's bangs back from his forehead. "Could you come see this?" he called.
Ed strolled into the room. "What's up?" He stared at the bare forehead. "Is that a bump?"
"I think so. What if he's got a concussion."
Ed rolled his eyes. "People don't get concussions from falling onto porches."
"But what if he got hurt earlier?" Al fretted.
Ed poked the sizeable lump and noticed how Roy winced at the motion. "Well, if he does have one, then we have to wake him up every hour to make sure he doesn't go into a coma or something." Ed shook the man, ignoring the grumbling. "Hey, old man! Get up!"
Roy's eyelids fluttered. He mumbled something incoherent.
"I said wake up!" Ed slapped his face.
Al gasped, "Brother!"
Roy's brows furrowed. With a pained grunt, he opened his eyes. They surveyed the whole room yet saw nothing. When he finally blinked, some of the fog in his coal-black eyes cleared. "Huh? What am I—Ow!" he reached for his head.
"What's your name?" Ed's voice was calm.
Black eyes paused. "Roy Mustang, Colonel. My serial number is 16745298."
A serial number? Does he think he's still in the war? Ed mused. "What is the date?"
"It is the seventh day of the fifth month."
That's true. "Where are you?"
Roy blinked. "M—Maes's room?"
Ed nodded and queried, "What happened to you?"
"I was walking home. I usually have Hawkeye drive me when it's raining." The because of the affect rain has on me was implied. "This time, I told her I'd hitch a ride with—" he sneezed— "Havoc because she came into work sick. I told her to go to her apartment and get some rest. After work, I. . . greatly underestimated the weather report for rain this afternoon. I saw that I was closest to Maes's house."
Ed took in the knowledge. "Okay, who am I?"
Roy scrutinized him. "A—are you Maes?" His words were beginning to run together. "No, your hair is different. When did you dye your hair, Maes? Black looked good on you. Did Gracia not like it?" His eyes were growing mistier. "No matter what, you'll still never be as hot as I am." He laughed weakly at his joke.
Al piped up, "Colonel, he's not Hughes. He's my brother."
Mustang gazed into Al's soul-fire eyes. "Elysia, you've grown!" He chuckled, "Hughes, I'd have thought you would at least show your best friend a picture of your daughter all grown up!"
"B—but, Colonel. . ." Ed sputtered. "Are you okay? It's me—It's Ed and Al!"
Mustang's blank eyes regarded Ed with curiosity. There were two spots of color high on his cheeks, indicating a fever. "Ed? Hmm. . ." His eyelids drooped.
"Colonel?"
"'M tired. . ." His eyes closed all the way.
"No, wait! Stay awake!"