Author's Note: This story was a little bit hard to write, but it was one of those things that bugged me until I did. This situation actually happened to my husband and me. Mustang has always reminded me of my husband, and this really drove the point home. As I wrote about what happened to us, it just fit so perfectly into a scene with Roy and Ed that it almost creeped me out. Anyway, in spite of that, I still do not own the characters. Although I do feel that I own the experience. I hope you enjoy. Oh yeah, and I don't swear as much as Ed.
Burdens
A single drop of eggshell white paint let go of the texture on the ceiling and planted itself on the bridge of the young man's nose as he peered up at the area he'd just covered with his paintbrush. He tried to scowl at the offending drop, but settled for a sigh if exasperation. "There has got to be a better way to do this."
Working on the wall across the room, his younger brother chuckled, already covered in paint himself. "I'm sure there is, Brother, but we don't have time for you to figure it out." A tinge of red shone through the spots of white splattered on the boy's cheeks. "Winry will be on the five o'clock train."
Edward dropped his brush on the tarp covering the floor and sat down on his stool, stretching his shoulders. "She's going to be so proud of our painting skills." He grinned as Alphonse's blush deepened. "How'd you get her to agree to moving up here anyway?"
"I had to agree to her terms." Al turned back to his wall as though to end the conversation.
Ed, however, was not done. "What terms?"
After all they'd been through, Al had a hard time denying his brother anything. "I had to let…"
The phone rang and Al opted to answer it rather than finish his sentence.
Ed looked up from up from his discarded paintbrush sharply when Al returned quickly to the room, holding the phone out to him. He scowled as he took the offered receiver, walking back toward the front all to relive the tension on the cord. "It's never good when it's for me," he grumbled before speaking to the caller. "Hello?"
"Edward, I need to go to the hospital."
Ed almost dropped the receiver as cold fear drained the feeling from his hand. He opened his mouth to reply, but had to clear his throat before sound would come out. "I'll be right there." The receiver barely made it to the cradle before he was halfway out the front door. "I have to go, Al!"
"Brother, what's wrong?"
"I have to go. I may not be back today." The door slammed behind him.
His body was on autopilot as he slid behind the wheel and turned it on. Paying minimal attention to the road, his mind cycled through the possibilities. Injury? It was 8:30 in the morning, for fuck's sake. What the hell was he doing? The man shouldn't even be out of bed yet. It would have to be a major injury for him to feel he needed the hospital. Fuck. What the hell is he doing? Fine. Blood can be dealt with. He was lucid enough to call; he must not have lost too much. But he shouldn't be out of bed yet; he can't have done anything to hurt himself. He must be sick.
Oh god, the man who hadn't seen a doctor of his own free will in an entire decade was sick enough to need a hospital.
The fear continued to absorb him, the numbness now claiming his arms. A small selfish thought crept into the maelstrom raging in his brain. "I hope he isn't puking." Vomit is not something easily dealt with. Please let it be anything else. Even a heart attack? No, maybe not a heart attack. Not a cardiac diet. They'd have to give up steak.
"Get a hold of yourself, idiot."
Whatever was wrong, he would know when he got there. He couldn't freak out. He'd have to be strong—he'd have to be the strong one this time.
Taking a deep breath, Edward willed it to re-inflate his arms and warm his chest. He put the car in park, leapt out, and flew up the front steps, his frenzy barely controlled. He quickly scanned the front hallway and adjoining rooms. Empty. "Roy?" His voice took on a higher pitch than he'd have liked as the fear settled heavily in the pit of his stomach. Taking the stairs two at a time, he burst into the office, ready to fall to his knees on the floor to assist if needed. "Roy!"
Mustang looked up from his book with a slight smirk gracing his lips. "Calm down." He rolled his chair away from the desk and stood. "I'm not dying."
Ed swallowed his angry words. "I'm here. Let's go."
"Hold on. I need shoes." Roy took in Ed's spotted, disheveled appearance and bit back a chuckle. "Would you like to change first?"
"No, I…I already rushed over here." Ed's impatience was getting the best of him. "Get your shoes." He was close to growling. "Let's go."
Edward had heard the phrase "white knuckles," but had never thought too hard about it until right then. He peeled his fingers off the steering wheel and tried to loosen his grip. It didn't help that usually Mustang or Havoc or Hawkeye drove. Or that Mustang insisted on plastering that dumb smirk on his face and glancing at Ed every so often as though he found the blonde's panic humorous.
As Ed pulled up in front of the menacing building, Roy motioned for him to park in the lot on the side. He continued to watch, amused, as Ed fumbled to turn the car off. The young alchemist turned to face him, anxiety and embarrassment written all over his face.
"I've, uh…I've never been to the ER, um…conscious."
Roy finally let his chuckle out as he slipped out of the car and Ed followed suit. "I'll lead the way."
Ed wanted desperately to take hold of Roy's hand as they entered a door off the parking lot labeled "Emergency Room" and walked the long, bright hallway to the desk with a nurse who looked as though she'd die of boredom soon—to feel Roy's warm, reassuring fingers in the spaces between his own. Yes he refrained, trying to save face.
"Name?" The nurse didn't look up from her logbook.
"Roy Mustang."
The nurse finally took real notice of the pair in front her, her eyes sparkling. "Colonel Mustang, sir, should I get…"
"No." Mustang softened his voice and expression, smiling in a way he knew would get him what he wanted. "Thank you, though. I just want this to be as simple as possible."
She wrote his name in her book as though in a dream. "Yes, sir."
Although he'd witnessed similar exchanges several times before, Edward couldn't help but fume, hoping the nurse might catch his death glare as she handed Roy a clipboard of forms to fill out and motioned toward the lobby.
As they sat alone in the lobby, Roy considered the blanks on the forms and grumbled about "never-ending piles of paperwork." Edward watched the man closely, looking for clues as to why they were there. There were no pieces missing—at least none that Ed could visually account for. And, thankfully, there was no vomiting. Roy clipped the pen to the board and sighed heavily. Having come up with no answers himself, Ed cleared his throat. "What's wrong with you, anyway?"
Roy spoke as though discussing the weather. "I woke up to use the bathroom and found myself pissing blood."
Edward tried hard not to visualize anything. "What causes that?"
"It could be caused by a number of things, all of which probably need a doctor."
"Well, I'm glad your ego allowed you to realize that." Ed's mumble was barely audible.
"Roy Mustang." Another nurse poked her head through the door at the far end of the lobby. The pair rose to follow her to an exam room. Though she kept a professional air, there was a distinct sparkle in her eyes as she hooked Roy up to the monitors.
Edward fell into the lone chair across the room from the bed and watched miserably the nurse held out a slim, manicured hand and Roy slid the clipboard into it, looking up at her through his dark bangs with that same cheesy half-smile.
"Thank you, Colonel." Ed ground his teeth as the nurse purred. "The doctor will be in shortly." She sashayed out of the room.
"You're disgusting." Ed crossed his arms and slumped further in his chair.
"Why?" Because I know how to get what I want?"
Ed glared a couple of daggers before looking away.
"Look," Roy's voice had taken on the cold quality of tone that always made Edward cringe. "If you don't want to be here, you can go back to Al's place. I'll call someone else for a ride when I'm done."
"What makes you think I wouldn't want to be here with you, bastard?" Ed kept his exclamation at a harsh whisper, mindful for once of his surroundings.
An entirely different nurse chose that moment to poke her head in the room. "I'm sorry, Colonel, but I'm going to need you to come with me. We need some samples."
"Of course." Roy stood to follow the nurse out of the room.
Still scowling, Ed caught Roy's sleeve briefly before the man let the door close behind him.
"Fuck." Elbows on his knees, Ed cradled his forehead in his hands. Burning frustration mixed with the icy fear in his gut and he momentarily thought of vomiting. "How perfect would that be?" The empty room declined to answer, and the blonde distracted himself by reading the signs on the walls.
Several minutes passed and he began rereading every word he could find.
"Goodness, Colonel, that's quite a lot of blood."
Ed froze and the air in the room grew heavy around him, making it difficult to breathe.
Several more minutes passed before the door opened, letting fresh air and Roy back in. He sat back down on the bed and settled his tired eyes on Ed. "Things might be worse than previously thought."
Ed swallowed. "So I heard." Shyly, he visually inventoried the man's body again. "Are you in pain?"
Roy cast his eyes down with an expression close to disgust.
"I'll take that as a yes." Edward watched Roy's body language and leaned forward, suspicious. "How long have you been in pain?"
"Don't be a hassle, Edward."
"Don't be an arrogant prick. How long?"
"Five days." Roy spit the words out, not making eye contact.
"Five fucking days? What a selfish bastard! How…"
"Please." Mustang's tone reminded Edward of a parent rebuking a child. "Shut up."
"Excuse me, Colonel, if it is such a hassle for you to put up with me caring!" Ed pushed himself out of the chair and whirled to face the door. A strong, warm hand caught his shoulder as he reached for the doorknob. He took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly before turning back around. Roy's dark eyes were stern, and yet there was a hint of something—a small amount of weakness shone through the normally impassive mask.
"I don't want you to leave."
The honesty and need in those simple words melted Edward's anger instantly and his whole body wilted. "Good." He let the corners of his lips curl up slightly. "Because I don't want to leave."
Roy slid his hand down Ed's arm to capture his fingers at the end, nestling his own in the spaces between the younger man's. Ed led Roy back to the bed, grabbing the rolling stool from the corner and settling on it close to Roy's position, not once breaking the link through which each felt a measure of reassurance.
After a moment of expectant silence, Mustang cleared his throat. "It could simply be kidney stones."
"That's not so bad."
Roy cost a sideways glace at Edward. "You don't have to deal with them."
"You're tough." Ed tried his best to mimic Roy's lecturing posture. "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger."
Rolling his eyes, Roy molded his expression into his signature smirk. "Unless you're perfect, then you can do without inconveniences like this." To his surprise, the young man didn't rise to the occasion of an argument over the Colonel's true merits.
Ed pondered his and Roy's entangled fingers a moment. "At least kidney stones won't kill you." When he raised his eyes, the emotion in them cut Roy deep. His face and voice softened.
"I'm sorry, Edward. I didn't realize you were so scared."
"I'm not scared. I'm…concerned. It could be…" Ed didn't even want to think the word, let alone speak it. "…cancer."
Roy's slight grimace told Edward that the possibility had crossed the older man's mind, but Roy seemed to push the idea away and chuckled, as though in the face of danger. "Kidney stones run in my family."
A sharp knock on the door preceded the tall, gangly man who stepped through. With a jolt, Edward tried to pull his hand inconspicuously back to himself, but Roy held fast.
Mustang cleared his throat as the man in the white coat noticed Ed on his stool and sat in the chair instead. "Good morning, doctor."
"Good morning, Colonel." The doctor had a heavy accent, and his thick mustache rustled when he talked. "I have looked at your tests, and you, my good man, have acquired a nasty bladder infection for yourself." He seemed to be overjoyed in giving this news.
Edward bit his tongue and tried to keep to himself.
Mustang was all business. "What needs to be done?"
"Well, we'll give you a shot of strong antibiotics and a prescription for an oral antibiotic and send you home."
The relief emanating from Edward was almost palpable, and he seemed to wilt. Roy stood, pulled his hand from Ed's now easy grasp to offer it to the doctor, who also stood. "Thank you."
"Anytime, Colonel." The doctor left the room with a wink.
Immediately, a nurse swooped in and motioned for Roy to sit back on the bed. Ed rolled the stool away to watch with amusement.
Sliding her hands into a pair of gloves, the nurse turned back to fact the pair holding a large needle. "Have you had a shot like this before, sir?"
"No."
"It may be rather painful."
Ed snickered, partly to hide his nerves. "It's gonna hurt."
Mustang gave Ed a doubtful look, but did not bring up the younger man's usual childishness around needles. "I'm tough, remember?"
"If you say so." Ed's face broke into a full grin as the nurse instructed Roy to pull his pants down far enough that she could see his hip.
"Ready?"
"Of course."
Edward swallowed his laugh at the shocked pain that crossed the older man's face.
The nurse slid the needle into the hazardous waste box. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
Roy forced a smile. 'No, not at all."
She handed him a slop of paper and pointed out the phone number on the bottom. "Call this number if you experience any problems."
He gave her his best try at his usual confident smile, and she smiled back sympathetically before leaving the room.
Standing, Ed held out his hand to help Roy to his feet. "Hurts, doesn't it?"
Mustang rolled his eyes, stiffly and silently following Edward back to the car.
Edward let the door fall shut behind him and watched as Roy gingerly sank into the couch, setting the prescription on the small table in the entryway. "Is there anything I can do for you…"
"Are you seriously…"
"You didn't let me finish." Ed scowled. "Is there anything I can do for you, jerkface?"
"Much better." Roy moved to put his feet up on the coffee table, but thought better of it, grimacing pathetically. "You should go back to Alphonse's place. Winry will be in Central soon."
"Oh, man, you're right." Edward turned and grasped the doorknob, then turned back to face Mustang again. "I shouldn't leave you like this."
"Slow down, shortstack. You'll get whiplash." Roy smiled as Ed fought back a violent reaction. "I'll be fine."
"Yeah, like you've been fine the last few days?" The blonde's tone of voice made his irritation clear.
Mustang opened his mouth to reply, but Edward cut him off.
"How am I supposed to take care of you, dickhead, if you don't let me know when you need it?"
On the outside, Mustang's demeanor remained calm and arrogant. On the inside, however, his mind was reeling. Edward felt the need to take care of him? The young man had had enough to worry about without Roy adding to it.
"Listen." Mustang folded his arms across his chest and tried to look as strong as possible while still unable to put his full weight on his left hip. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I only called you because I knew you'd be pissed if you found out after the fact that I'd gone."
"You're damn right I'd be pissed."
Mustang scowled as though the blonde were being unreasonable. "My problems, Edward, are my problems. They are my burden to bear. No one else."
Several expressions, ranging from rage to defeat passed over Edward's face before he allowed himself to speak. "Well then, I will leave you to bear this burden by yourself. I have a train to meet." He once more grasped the doorknob and his next words barely made it back into the living room as he exited. "Call me if you need anything."
As the train pulled into the station, Edward turned toward his brother, who was looking fervently for Winry. "Oh yeah…what terms did you agree to?"
Alphonse blushed slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about, brother."
"Come on, Al, you know you can't lie to me."
Winry stepped off the train and spotted the brothers waiting for her. Al smiled at the sight of her and answered Ed. "You'll find out soon enough."
Waving, Winry jogged up to them and threw her arms around Al first and then Ed. She turned to Al. "Did you tell him?"
Edward scowled at Alphonse. "Tell me what?"
Grinning ear to ear, Winry put out her left hand to wiggle her finger's in Ed's face, purposely causing the diamond to sparkle. Her grin dissipated when Ed's scowl didn't leave his face. "Are you upset?"
"No." Edward forced himself to collect his thoughts and smile. "No, I'm happy for you guys, really."
"Really, brother?"
Ed's smile grew. "Really, Al. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to, but I couldn't find the right words." Al looked uncomfortable and Winry slid her hand into his.
Watching his brother with Winry, Edward's thoughts found their way back to the man he'd left in pain on the couch. "Hey Al, take Winry home and show her our handiwork. I've got to go."
Al watched Edward trot out of the train station. He didn't know what had transpired that morning, but Ed had assured him everything was okay. He hoped this time his brother wasn't lying to him.
Because tiptoeing through the house was so foreign to Edward, his actions took on an air of suspense. Stepping softly down the stairs after changing out of his paint-spattered clothes, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself when Roy came into view, in the same position he'd been left, but sound asleep. As quietly as he could, he took the prescription from the side table and carried it into the kitchen. He slipped the bottle out of the bag and shook a pill from the bottle, grabbing a glass from the cabinet above his head. Juggling the glass and the pill, Edward opened the freezer and tried to also grab a tray of ice.
Even thought the crash was merely medium, Mustang's instincts demanded he leap from the couch and confront the cause. However, he only managed to open his eyes, put his hands down on the couch, and grunt in pain as his body made it slowly to a standing position.
"Crap!" To give the young man credit, he'd scaled an exclamation that would normally have filled the house down to a very loud whisper. It was enough to calm Mustang's nerves. Ed was back, and much more yelling and swearing would have accompanied a severe crisis.
Edward picked the spilt ice up off the floor as quickly as he could and filled the glass with water from the tap. He'd heard Roy's attempt to react and swore inwardly, his hopes of dazzling the man with his caretaking skills dashed. With a frustrated sigh, he left the kitchen, holding out both the pill and the glass of lukewarm water.
"Sit down." Ed usually thoroughly enjoyed the chance to order his superior officer around, but this time his attention was immediately drawn to Mustang's bedraggled appearance and the shadow of pain across his face. He couldn't even smile at the awkward way Roy sank back into the couch. "I'm sorry."
"For?" Roy's voice was rough, his tone making it apparent he was grumpy.
"First, for the rude awakening." Edward handed over the pill and the glass and watched as Roy popped the pill into his mouth and took a big swig of the water. He cringed at the unpleasantly surprised expression on the man's face as he swallowed. "Second, for dropping all of the ice on the floor."
"Did you clean it up?"
"Yes."
"Then I suppose those are forgivable offenses." Roy leaned back into the couch and smiled at Ed, only to find the young man uncharacteristically pensive. "What's wrong?"
After another moment of thought, Ed met Roy's dark eyes with his old golden ones. "Al and Winry have each other now."
Mustang attempted to pinpoint the source of Ed's problem. "Does that bother you?"
"Why does everyone think I'm bothered by their relationship?" Ed bristled a bit.
"You and Al have always been together, depending on each other. Like you said, now Al has Winry." Roy took in Ed's scowl and tried to appease him. "It's perfectly natural to be jealous."
"I'm not jealous." Edward controlled the urge to yell. "I'm happy for them. I really am." Ed sighed in obvious frustration. "Al doesn't need me anymore, which is fine. He is happy, so I am happy."
"Are you really?"
"Yes, dammit! Let me make my point!"
Mustang bowed his head to signal that he would let Edward continue without interruption.
The blonde alchemist paused a moment. He felt very much like giving up, but deep down he knew that he and Roy had reached a tipping point in their relationship and they had to come to an understanding, whether Roy was going to cooperate or not. "A younger, less mature me would never admit this, but I've come to see that people need to be needed." He tried to gauge Roy's thoughts, but the man was a stone wall. "Well, fuck this!"
Roy watched Ed spin on his heel and begin to walk away. He did not try to stop him or call him back. Without a clue as to what the young man was trying to tell him, it would be best to let him cool down and gather his thoughts. Perhaps when he wasn't so worked up, it wouldn't be so important. Ed stopped suddenly on his way out and stood very still for several minutes before slowly turning back around.
"You are arrogant. And stubborn. And almost always a complete asshole. But dammit, Roy Mustang, I need you. I need you to be here. I need you to be safe and healthy. And I need you to be happy. I have yet to understand why, but your happiness is integral to my own. Do you understand me, bastard? That's what love is. Now, Roy, do you love me? Do you need me too? Because if not, I will get out and try to find someone else to need."
Mustang cleared his throat and tried very hard to hid the frustration of having to explain himself in words when he thought that his actions were understood. "Of course I need you, Edward. If I didn't need you, you wouldn't be here."
Edward considered the older man, processing his reply. "Promise?"
"Yes." Roy's tone was so matter-of-fact that doubting seemed impossible.
After another moment of consideration, the tension in Ed's body relaxed. He relented and moved back to the couch, slumping at the end opposite of Mustang.
Roy rolled his eyes and patted the cushion right next to him. "Come here, kid."
Ed scowled, but obeyed.
"Listen, Edward." Mustang grasped the hand of the younger man. "You are used to shouldering the burdens of everyone around you. I am used to shouldering my own burdens and not letting anyone else touch them. We are both stubborn men." He emphasized the word 'both.' "You must trust that I love you. That I need you even though I don't let you carry my burdens. I need you to be happy without me weighing you down. Can you do that?"
Even as Edward agreed, they both knew they'd clash again, their natures were too strong and too conflicting. Yet each time they walked this same bumpy road over and over again, they reached the brief comfort of another new understanding, and an affirmation that each would put in the effort to make it work.
