DISCLAIMER: I do not own FullMetal Alchemist Brotherhood nor do I claim to. I just like the show/manga and wanted to write a little something for it.


_[ STORY ]_


Winter in the East City of Amestris was brutal this year Roy Mustang mused as he exited his car, a sudden gust cut through the man his breath caught before he winched slightly from the cold biting at his wound. Pulling his coat tighter Mustang hurried his pace into the office building; the hallways were sparse with people even at the early hour of 5 in the morning there should have been far more.

Mustang was glad for this as he was able to keep his hand firmly pressed into his injury, for some reason he found the pressure soothing, especially after last night walking into one's room without lighting is not a good idea. He could still feel the sharp edge of the dresser drawer he forgot to close that morning digging into his flesh next to the injury.

"It's what I get for waking up late," he muttered rounding a corner he almost crashed into a Corporal, "geez watch where you're going," he said sidestepping.

"My goodness I'm...I'm so...so sorry Colonel Mustang," the Corporal started from behind the boxes he was carrying.

"It's alright, just be careful," Mustang said making to walk away.

"Um, Sir?" the Corporal called.

Mustang sighed taking another step before looking back, "yes?"

"Are you feeling alright? You look ill."

Panic wormed its way into Mustangs chest if someone he only ran into in the hallway on occasion noticed then what would his team say, he forced a scowl across his face, "it's none of your concern," he said before walking away.

Once Mustang was on the next floor only a few doors from his office he ducked into the restroom and looked in the mirror, his eyes were bloodshot with dark circles much expected as he had only slept an hour maybe two last night, and the night before that as well.

It was the flushed cheeks and sheen of sweat across his face that gave it away, "by the almighty I do look horrid," Mustang said aloud, "why did I interfere that night?" he asked himself rinsing his face.

Gripping either side of the sink, Mustang let the water drip from his face as memories of a night two and a half weeks ago flashed through his mind's eye.


Roy was the happiest he'd been in a long time, free from the feeling someone wanted him dead to the point he walked around East City without the 'Hawks Eye' it'd been several months since the 'Promise Day' so much had changed yet so much was the same.

After Dr. Marcoh healed Havoc and himself, they and Hawkeye returned to work for the military, Grumman had taken charge and wanting his best team to 'take it slow' had transformed them back to East Command. With orders to come back to Central on the anniversary of the 'Promise Day' to start getting the 'ball rolling' as Grumman had said there was also take of promotion which made Mustang smile.

Right now though such thought where far from his mind, Mustang had a pleasant night out, some delicious food and drink and was passing the Star Light Theater heading home when he heard a shriek break the silence from the maintenance alleyway beside the theater.

Mustang didn't hesitate he ran for the alley, the scene he came upon was someone with a knife yelling at a woman to give them the bag she had, "HEY!" Mustang shouted making the mugger jump and turn towards him.

The woman was able to run inside closing the door, "you bastard!" the mugger screamed launching himself at the Colonel who sidestepped as the man flew by, Mustang shoved the body away into the wall.

The perpetrator growled and used the wall to redirect his momentum back at Mustang, slashing his knife wildly as he went, Mustangs instincts kicked in as his mind thanked Hughes for the knife fight training back in the day. The distant sound of sirens caught Mustangs attention meaning he took a hit from the fast-moving attack across his abdomen, the adrenalin coursing through his bloodstream meant he barely felt it, but Mustang saw it. He grabbed the wrist and flipped the man around pining his arm behind his back and Mustang wrapped his free arm across the other's neck.

Police swarmed the alleyway shouting at Mustang and the mugger, the backstage door opened and the woman and another person walked out to talk with the officers, flashlights illuminated the area well they arrested the man, the woman, and her coworker thanked Mustang for his intervention. As things started to wind down the adrenalin keeping the pain of the knife wounded at bay made its self know; the blood loss didn't help either, and he passed out, one of the theater staff catching him.

Mustang woke a few hours later in the hospital a doctor and a police officer by his bedside, with paperwork for him to do; by morning he was able to go home with expressed instructions from the doctor on how to care for his injury.


Mustang lamented over his failure to follow those instructions, but with Grumman having him plan the East Comand Winter Festival he was distracted from such a task, and it landed him with an infection and a fever having developed a few days ago.

Mustang dried his face before heading to the office, by some miracle only Jean Havoc was in, Mustang breathed a sigh of relief, "morning Havoc, where are the others?" he asked.

"Breda and Fuery are both out with that flu bug going around and today is Falman's day off," Havoc said between puffs of his cigarette still looking over the paperwork on his desk.

"Aren't Falman's day off Wednesdays?"

"It is Wednesday, Sir."

"Oh right, what about Hawkeye?"

"Armory the guy in charge down there is also out with the flu and the top told Riza to cover him, but they know we are severely short staff here, so they extended out the deadline for this week's paperwork," Havoc said turning to look at the man, "plus the storm has a lot of people calling in."

Mustang turned away and pretended to look at the 'inbox' on another desk, "not surprising it's nasty out. I'm glad they gave us more time, but still to take Hawkeye without saying anything first," he said picking up a paper.

"She wasn't overly pleased either, but she was ordered too," Havoc said leaning back in his chair.

"Just like old times," Mustang muttered, "I'll be in my office if you need anything," he said putting the paper down before moving to his workspace, closing the door behind him.


Hours ticked by for the Flame Alchemist, the howl of the wind and scribbling of the pen his companions, Havoc at one point had come over to see if he wanted lunch. Mustang refused he was getting close to his next dose of medicine after Havoc left promising to bring back coffee the pain in his side flared making Mustangs breath catch.

"Right on time," he said aloud rising slowly from his seat.

Making his way over to the coat rack Mustang dug into the pockets only to find nothing, he checked the other side nothing as well, "son of a…" he started taking a deep breath.

"What a day to forget the little bastards," he muttered, moving back to his desk, "why is it so damn hot in here!?" he said looking to the windows, "it couldn't hurt to let a little air in, could it?"

Mustang opened the window a few inches, then sat down facing it, the wind coming in was fast and filled the room with a bitter chill, but with Mustangs fevered state he didn't notice this only how it seemed to relive the stuffiness of the office and his symptoms.

Leaning back in his chair, Mustang started to drift off exhaustion catching up moments after opening the window he was asleep, feeling comfortable on the surface, but the body knew something wasn't right and it increased the fever to not only continue fighting off the infection, but also the biting cold.


_[ TO BE CONTINUED ]_


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