"Are we there yet?" Ed whined, kicking his short legs against the floor of Mustang's car.
"Fullmetal, we've been driving for twenty minutes," Mustang said. "We are not there yet. Not even close."
Mustang still had mixed feelings about bringing Ed along on his camping trip, the special one that he used to share with Hughes before he…. No, Mustang didn't want to think about that right now. He couldn't. He had come out to have a good time, to relax and unwind away from the pressures of Central. But he wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to do that with the kid along. They'd been gone less than an hour, and already he was making Mustang want to pull his hair out.
But Riza had insisted it was a good idea, and Mustang suspected that Riza knew what she was doing better than he did. It wasn't until Mustang had asked Havoc to camp with him (he had refused on the grounds of a date) and Riza herself (who had just flat out told him no), that Riza had suggested Fullmetal to him. She had said it would be good for Ed to get out of Central for a little while too, and by that point Mustang was fresh out of options anyway.
Mustang had tried to go back to the cabin he and Hughes had shared on so many trips just once after his friend's death. He hadn't even made it a night. The memories had been too much for him, and he'd ended up returning to Central only a few hours after he'd left, apologizing to Hughes the whole way home. This time, Mustang knew better than to try to do it alone, which was the biggest reason he'd brought Fullmetal along.
"I'm hungry," the young alchemist said. Mustang narrowed his eyes at the road and didn't say anything. Maybe if he ignored the kid, he would shut up.
It didn't work. "Colonel, I'm hungry. Do we have anything to eat?"
Mustang took a steadying breath. "We have food for the trip," he said, "but it's all in the trunk. You can wait the two hours until we get to the cabin."
Fullmetal pouted a little bit, but he didn't complain anymore about the lack of food. Mustang breathed a sigh of relief.
It didn't last long.
"Two hours?" the kid asked plaintively.
Why did I agree to this? Mustang clenched his hands around the wheel, trying to prevent himself from pulling the car over and leaving Ed on the side of the road. He didn't answer.
"Can we at least listen to music?" Ed asked, already reaching for the dial on the radio.
"The station doesn't reach out here," Mustang explained as the radio hissed and crackled with static. He did his best not to enjoy the look of dismay on Ed's face…not too much, anyway.
"Two hours…you could take a nap," Mustang suggested hopefully. Ed glared at him, but the look was somewhat ruined as he swallowed an enormous yawn. With as much dignity as he could summon, the young alchemist slumped into the corner of his seat, turning his back to Mustang. Finally, blissful silence.
Ed slept through the rest of the drive, not even stirring as Mustang pulled up to the familiar cabin. He turned off the car and stared at the glint of the sun off the lake where he'd spent so many days with his friend.
Well, Hughes, I finally made it back…I'm sorry it took me so long. I just…for a while, it was too hard. But I think I'm ready to try again, and I'll make sure Fullmetal loves this place as much as you did. He paused, remembering Hughes' unbridled enthusiasm, and smiled slightly to himself.
"Well, maybe not that much," he said quietly, and shook Fullmetal awake.
Ed sat up, yawning, and examined his new surroundings. Mustang watched him warily, hoping that the verdict would be a positive one, yet unwilling to admit even to himself how important it was that Ed approved.
"I've never seen a forest like this before," Ed finally said, eyes wide.
Mustang felt a sudden rush of gratitude. He smiled at Ed. "Not many trees where you grew up?"
Ed shook his head, still staring at the lake and surrounding forest. Mustang felt momentarily sorry for the young alchemist. He had never had anyone to show him things like this before. And Mustang knew, probably better than anyone, how being raised without a father could affect a boy.
"Me either," he admitted. Ed looked at him, clearly a little surprised. "I hadn't really seen anything like this until Hughes took me here a few years ago. It's…."
"It's amazing," Ed said firmly, and opened the door. "Can we get the food out of the trunk now?''
Shaking his head, Mustang got out of the car. Riza had been right - as usual. This weekend wouldn't be nearly as bad as he'd expected.
The cabin itself had belonged to Hughes' family. Hughes had been coming here since he was a small child, and he had known the place like he'd known the back of his hand. Mustang hadn't been coming here for nearly so long, maybe one week a summer for the past five years or so. He and Hughes would fish in comfortable silence on the tranquil lake, and then Mustang would use his alchemy to light a fire and they would cook and eat whatever it was that they had managed to catch that day. Mustang had never had the heart to tell Hughes that he didn't enjoy fishing all that much. But now that didn't seem to matter. Everything about the cabin seemed slightly better, because the memory of Hughes was drifting through it like a ghost.
The cabin was small, but not too small. There was a cramped main room, with a sofa in the corner and a square table squished up against one side, and two bedrooms, each containing a narrow bed. It wasn't enough room to spread out, certainly, but it was enough room to be happy. It was cozy, really.
Mustang knew that Hughes had hoped to come here with his wife and daughter one day, once Elicia was old enough that he wouldn't have to constantly have to worry about her drowning in the lake. Mustang thought that Hughes would have been happy that he was coming here with Ed now. Hughes had always thought this was a place meant for a family.
Not that that's what he and Ed were. He wasn't Ed's father, he was his superior officer. But at least he could get the kid some fresh air, and the cabin wouldn't be standing almost empty with only Mustang inside it.
It only took the two of them around an hour to unpack everything. They were only planning on staying for a week, and they didn't need to bring anything that alchemy could provide. They didn't need to bring much food either, since part of the fun of staying in a place like this was trying to catch it for yourself.
Mustang walked the perimeter of the cabin with Ed by his side, checking for anything that seemed out of place or had been damaged since he'd last been here. The kid had a sandwich in his hand that he was eating as they walked, and he was remarking in awe over every small thing, as if he'd never been in a forest before at all. It was a little annoying, but Mustang didn't dare shut him down. Ed had gotten less of a childhood than most, and who was Mustang to deny him this one thing? So when Ed excitedly picked up a pinecone, or pointed at a chipmunk barely visible through the trees, Mustang just smiled and nodded and let him be.
They completed their circuit of the cabin, and nothing seemed wrong. Mustang nodded, satisfied, and headed for the door. Ed stuffed the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth and followed.
"So when's lunch?"
Mustang frowned at the mustard smear on Ed's upper lip. "You've just had it."
"That was a snack. I'm still hungry."
Mustang thought of the limited food he'd packed and sighed. Then, he brightened. This was a great opportunity to introduce Ed to the art of fishing…not that he would enjoy it any more than Mustang had at first.
"We'll catch our lunch."
"But-"
"It's easy," Mustang proclaimed with a surety that he didn't entirely feel. "Come on, I'll get you some gear."
The fishing gear was still in the trunk where he and Hughes had left it. Carefully, he pulled out the rods they'd used, Hughes' long bamboo rod and his slightly shorter, newer one. I guess you won't mind if I use your rod, will you? He handed his old rod to Ed, who looked at it dubiously. Next was the box filled to overflowing with lures, bobbers, spinners, and bait, most of them with obscure uses even Hughes didn't know. He placed that on the floor and stared into the bottom of the trunk with a sudden pang of sorrow. There, beneath the spare reels of line, lay Hughes' old fishing vest. It was a preposterous piece of clothing, made of faded green canvas and absolutely covered in pockets. But every time that Mustang had come up to the cabin, his friend had worn it, despite all of Mustang's considerable teasing. After a moment's deliberation, he lifted it out and put it on over his shirt. It was a little too big for him, and he saw Ed giving him a strange look, but he didn't care.
He picked up Hughes' bamboo rod and grabbed the tackle box. On the way out the door, he lifted his fishing hat from the peg and pulled it down onto his forehead. Then, with Ed in his wake, he made his way to the dock.
"Um, Colonel?" Ed said when they were about halfway to the dock. He broke off, giggling a little bit.
"What is it, Fullmetal?"
"Why...why are you wearing that hat?" As he said it, he broke into peals of laughter. When Mustang turned around to look at him, the humor of the situation overwhelmed Ed, and he had to stop walking, bending over as he tried to catch his breath.
"It's not that funny," Mustang said as his eyebrows knitted together.
"I just...I can't believe you're wearing a hat!"
Mustang took the hat off and considered it. The first time he had come here with Hughes, when Ishval was recent enough that they both still had nightmares, when Gracia had just found out that she was pregnant, Mustang hadn't had the hat. The first day he and Hughes had gone fishing, the pale skin on Mustang's face had burned so badly that Hughes had worried they would need to cut the trip short so they could take Mustang to a hospital. It had hurt for the rest of the trip, and spent the next week or so peeling. After that, Mustang wearing a hat had been a condition of him being allowed to come to the cabin. The week didn't really start until Mustang had his fishing hat on.
"It's...it's just so I don't burn," Mustang said softly, unsure why, precisely, he felt the need to defend himself to the kid.
"It looks stupid," Ed said definitively. "I'm not sure I'll be able to take you seriously when you're wearing that."
"I'll leave it," Mustang said, not completely sure why he did. He was Ed's superior officer, he had no reason to try to impress the boy. He really had no reason to consider anything the kid was saying at all. But, while he did still technically have authority over Ed, for the most part he had put that power on hold for the week the second he invited the kid on the trip. He set the hat down. Ed giggled a little more, and then subsided.
"Have you ever fished before?" Mustang asked Ed once they were finally on the dock.
"Not really," Ed said. The young alchemist was peering somewhat anxiously into the dark water beneath the dock, eyeing it like he thought there was a chance it would suddenly grow arms and reach up to grab him.
"Well, I'm not sure you'll like it much at first," Mustang said. "But like you said, you have to eat."
Ed frowned, but before he could think of a counterargument, Mustang opened the tackle box and beckoned him over. Somewhat reluctantly, Fullmetal wandered over to join him. Mustang held up the different lures and explained each one, remembering when Hughes had done the same for him. He thought that the glazed look on Ed's face right now was probably the same one he'd had at the time, so he couldn't entirely begrudge the young alchemist's disinterest. Eventually, he just selected Ed's lure for him and deftly tied it onto the line. He handed Ed a can of worms and turned back to his own fishing rod. The lure he'd been using for five years was still in its place in the tackle box.
He turned back to Ed and found him staring at the worms in confusion and distaste.
"Why did you give me a can of worms?"
"Bait," Mustang explained. "What do you think fish eat?"
"I don't know, other fish? Bugs? Plants?" Ed said unhappily.
"Well, we don't have other fish, bugs or plants," Mustang said. He reached into the can and found a nice, juicy worm. He put it on the end of his hook, then relented at Ed's slightly horrified expression. The kid had seen a lot of death, and the fact that killing a worm still bothered him a little was probably a good sign. Who was he to change that? Besides, this was supposed to be their break from making hard choices.
"If you don't want to use a worm, try using bread. Some fish will eat anything."
Ed looked at him gratefully and plunged a hand into his pocket. He took out a small piece of bread and jammed it onto the end of his hook. Mustang raised his eyebrows, and Ed shrugged sheepishly.
"I made another sandwich."
Mustang chuckled softly and shook his head. Ed's appetite could prove a serious problem. Still, food was why he was out here in the first place. Patiently, he picked up his rod and began to explain casting.
A little while later, Mustang had caught two decent sized fish. Ed had caught nothing. That was partially due to his refusal to leave the bobber in the water for any length of time, but when Mustang had (in his most patient tone) pointed that failing out, Ed had snarled at him and continued to struggle. Now, he was glaring at Mustang's two fish in sullen envy. Mustang shrugged and packed up the tackle box, gesturing for Ed to follow him back up to the cabin.
"So, Fullmetal, do you know how to filet a fish?"
Three hours later, the fish were cleaned and gutted, the sun was starting to set, and Ed was traipsing through the woods, trying to locate enough wood for a fire. "Is this enough?' he asked, stumbling up to Mustang and holding out an armful of sticks.
Mustang eyed the wood skeptically. "Those are all pretty small, Fullmetal. We need to keep a fire going for a long time. Can you find anything bigger?"
"But you have fire alchemy," the boy whined. "Why do we even need sticks in the first place?"
Mustang sighed. He knew Ed understood how fire alchemy worked, at least well enough, and was just starting to get tired of rooting around in the woods for twigs. But they should have almost enough anyways. Even though they would need fuel to keep the fire going, Mustang's alchemy should be able to make up for most of what their wood lacked. And if it really came down to it, Mustang could just flame-broil the fish directly and they wouldn't need to bother with a fire at all.
"That's probably enough, Fullmetal," Mustang said. "Just put them over here."
Ed set the sticks down, and then turned back to Mustang. "Colonel, your face is really red," he said. "Are you alright?"
Mustang looked down at the ground. He didn't particularly want to answer, because he knew the kid was going to laugh at him. "It's a sunburn," he said finally. "Because I didn't wear my hat."
Sure enough, Ed burst out laughing. Mustang stared at him, a little unsure of what to do. Part of him wanted to order the boy to stop. Most of him knew that that was a horrible idea, that he owed it to the boy to give him a break from the inescapable chain of command.
Eventually, Mustang started laughing too, a little bit. It was sort of funny, he supposed, but it would have been funnier if his face didn't feel like it might start peeling off.
It would have been funnier if he hadn't promised Hughes he would always wear the hat if he decided to go fishing. But Mustang didn't want to think about that, not now.
Mustang arranged the wood that the kid had brought and then used his glove to set it aflame. Immediately, it went up in a crackling blaze, and Mustang saw Ed flash a quick smile of pleasure. In his life, he had mostly known fire as a weapon, a tool for destruction. Mustang wasn't sure the kid had ever really seen its life-giving abilities. This was all new territory for him.
Mustang put the fish on the fire to cook, and they watched the stars come out in companionable silence. Mustang looked up at the constellations. In Central, sometimes the buildings blocked the night sky – not that he often had the time to look up. He'd always appreciated these chances to get away from the city and forget his obligations. He hoped that Fullmetal would feel the same.
He looked over at Ed, who was staring intently at the fish. He touched his shoulder, and the young alchemist looked over. Mustang pointed into the sky.
"Look…the stars are coming out. See that bright one right there?"
Ed nodded. "Isn't that supposed to be the brightest star in the night sky?"
"That's right. It's called the Wayfinder, because it leads north. It's better than any compass, if you ever find yourself lost at night."
Ed stared up at the Wayfinder. "How do they know?" he eventually asked.
Mustang raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised by Ed's interest. "I don't know who discovered it," he told him, "but soldiers used to use it on night marches. I know a lot of men who still put their trust in the Wayfinder over any navigational equipment we have now. Of course, that makes them pretty helpless during the daytime."
Ed laughed, and Mustang smiled, slightly surprised about how good that made him feel. Ed pointed to another constellation, a band of stars shaped a little like a crescent moon.
"What's that one called?"
"Soldiers call that one the Tavern Wench," Mustang said, realizing at the last minute that he probably shouldn't be sharing this with a fifteen year old. "Umm…I don't know its real name."
Ed frowned. "Why the Tavern Wench?"
Mustang sighed. He was in too deep to back out now. "Well…see how that line there looks a little like a skirt? That's flying up?"
Ed squinted at the sky, then tilted his head. Suddenly, he broke into a grin and snickered. "I see it! Wow, I can't wait to show it to Ling! I wonder what they call it in Xing?"
"Probably not the Wench," muttered Mustang.
"What other constellations do you know?" Ed asked, but Mustang wasn't sure that he should share anymore.
"Oh, look, the fish is done," he said hastily. He pulled them off the fire and distributed them between the two plates.
Mustang handed one of the plates to Ed, and saw the kid light up with excitement. "Thank god!" Ed exclaimed. "I was getting so hungry."
"Fullmetal, we haven't even been here for a day and you've already eaten at least five times."
Ed shrugged a little. "I need to eat," he said. He started to pull the fish apart with his fingers, gasping with pain when they burned his hand.
"Fullmetal, that's too hot to touch, wait for it to cool down a little bit…."
"That's why I have these," Ed said, wiggling his metal fingers in front of Mustang. He used his automail hand to start shoveling the fish into his mouth. "This is pretty good," he said, mouth full.
Mustang was a touch more civilized than the kid, so he waited for the fish to cool down some and then used silverware to cut it into pieces. But he did have to agree with Ed's assessment. It was quite good, especially considering Mustang wasn't much of a cook.
The two stayed around the fire for a couple of hours, sitting cross-legged on the ground and watching the sparks drift up to join the stars. Mustang realized to his shock that the kid had never had s'mores, and was given the pleasure of introducing him to them. Ed told a few ghost stories with varying levels of success, gesturing widely with his arms and using the shadows cast by the fire to set the mood. Mustang hadn't really understood how much pressure Ed was constantly under in Central until he saw him like this, without the same anxiety weighing down his steps. It was nice to be able to see the kid actually be a kid.
And Mustang, almost despite himself, found that he was having fun. He remembered sitting around a fire just like this with Hughes, and while he certainly wished Hughes was here with them, the memory didn't bring a bitter taste to his mouth the way it had before. He kind of felt like he was honoring his friend by teaching Ed how to camp the same way Hughes had taught Mustang. Even though Mustang knew better, he kind of felt like Hughes was there with them.
After a while, Ed started yawning, and Mustang suggested that they go to sleep, telling him that they should get an early start the next day and try to get some more fishing in. Ed obediently shuffled off and started getting himself ready for bed, leaving Mustang alone by the fire. He spent a few moments staring into the flames, deep in thought.
"Well, Hughes," he finally said, "wish me luck for tomorrow. It's a lot of work trying to entertain this kid."
Then Mustang put the fire out, and went to get ready for bed too.
The following morning got off to a rocky start. When Mustang woke up bright and early (the best time for fishing, Hughes had always insisted), Fullmetal refused to get up. Mustang shook his shoulder, but Ed just moaned angrily.
"Fullmetal, get up!"
"It's not a vacation if I have to wake up early," Ed said grumpily from beneath his pillow.
"The fish are up," Mustang pointed out. Ed was unmoved by his flawless logic.
"Leave me alonnnneee," he whined.
"Fullmetal…." Mustang crossed his arms and waited. Eventually, Ed realized that he wasn't going to go away and sat up, hair sticking up crazily.
"I'm up," he said sullenly.
"Excellent. I'll get our gear. Maybe today you'll get lucky!"
Unfortunately for them both, Ed did not seem to be getting lucky. Despite Mustang's repeated explanation of the technique of casting, the young alchemist could not figure out how to handle the fishing rod. After the fourth time Mustang watched Ed throw the lure into the dock, he intervened.
"Fullmetal, let me-"
Ed scowled and raised the rod. "No! I can do it!" He whipped the rod around with all his strength and let out the line. Mustang watched the line spool out with a fair amount of pride, and Ed grinned and began to reel it in.
"Hey, I think I got something!"
Mustang winced and raised a hand to his head. His eyes widened. "No, wait! Stop!"
Beside him, Ed continued to wind the line, yanking the rod left and right to confuse the fish on the other end. Unfortunately for Mustang, it wasn't a fish.
"Fullmetal, that's my hair- owwww!"
Ed dropped the rod and jumped back guiltily as Mustang untangled Ed's hook from his hair. He handed it back to the young alchemist and warily moved back to a safer distance.
"I can...do you actually want me to teach you to fish? If I gave you just a couple pointers, I bet you could start catching some."
Ed rolled his eyes and snorted disdainfully. And then started trying to untangle his line. And then finally looked up at Mustang. "Fine," he said, his voice as sullen as he could make it. "I guess you can give me some tips."
After about ten minutes of careful instruction, the kid had actually kind of gotten the hang of it. He still lacked Mustang's patience, but at least he was holding the rod correctly and the hook was actually ending up in the water. Mustang thought he was probably still jerking the line around too much to have much luck actually catching anything, but maybe with a few more days of practice….
"Colonel, I think I caught something!" Ed suddenly yelled. "I...I can feel it tugging…."
He stood up abruptly, causing the line to bob wildly. He held tight to the rod with one arm, while the other waved around with pleasure.
"Good job, Fullmetal! Now just see if you can reel it in…."
Ed sucked in a sharp, excited breath. "I'm trying to…."
Then several things happened at once. Maybe the fish tugged on the line a little harder than expected, or maybe the kid just lost his grip. But either way, the rod flew out of Ed's hands. He lunged forward, trying to grab it, but his balance was already shot from flailing around so much, and before Mustang could so much as move a muscle, the kid had plunged off the end of the dock and into the water.
"Fullmetal!" Mustang yelled, scrambling to the edge of the dock. He leaned over frantically, waiting for Ed to pop back up to the surface so Mustang could help him back onto dry land.
Mustang kept waiting, heart hammering painfully in his chest.
And Ed stayed down.
It was a few moments before Mustang remembered something that chilled him to the bone. Automail. The kid's metal limbs were probably dragging him downwards, there was no way he'd be able to swim with them. He hadn't surfaced yet because he physically could not.
So without hesitation, Mustang threw himself over the edge of the dock and into the lake. He dove straight for where he'd seen Fullmetal disappear, frantically searching for Ed's hair, clothes, arm, anything. He could feel his air running out, but if he couldn't breathe, what did that mean for Ed? So he stayed under, and right before his lungs gave out, his grasping fingers touched metal. His arm.
Mustang grabbed Ed's arm and swam for the surface. It was hard going towing Ed, who was heavier than he looked…the automail again. But finally, he broke the surface with a gasp and hauled Ed up after him.
His heart skipped a beat. Ed's face was deathly pale, and he didn't seem to be breathing. Mustang blanched and wrestled Ed onto the dock, where he lay unmoving in a puddle of lakewater. Mustang scrambled up to join him, shaking his shoulder urgently.
"Fullmetal!"
But the young alchemist didn't stir, and his chest wasn't rising. Fighting panic, Mustang began CPR. With each compression, he chastised himself for allowing this to happen. How could I have been so stupid? I'm a soldier, not a... He wasn't exactly sure what role he'd been trying to fill, but whatever it was, it had gone very wrong indeed. I'm a killer. That's what I do, and I shouldn't have tried to be anything else. I...
And then Ed coughed up a lungful of lakewater and opened his eyes. Mustang gasped, unable to believe his eyes, and then swept the boy into his arms in an uncharacteristic hug. He knelt on the wooden slats, holding Ed as he coughed, both of them dripping with freezing water.
"I thought I'd killed you," Mustang told the back of Ed's head.
Ed coughed again and gently extricated himself from Mustang, who let him go, mildly embarrassed, but still shaking with relief.
"I'm alive," Ed said, although he barely looked it. He was blue with cold, and his hair was plastered around his face, dripping incessantly and contributing to the chill that was making his teeth chatter.
"Y-you could light a f-f-fire, though," he added, slightly accusatorily.
"I'm sorry," Mustang said dryly, "I seem to have soaked my gloves and my lighter somehow. Come on, let's go inside. There are matches in the cabin."
He stood up and helped Ed off the dock. Ed took a step and stumbled, just a little, but Mustang placed a steadying hand on his arm. Ed didn't protest, which worried Mustang more than if Ed had refused his help and fallen flat on his face. Gently, he guided Ed toward the cabin, trying to ignore Ed's steady stream of muttered complaints about the downsides to flame alchemy.
By the time they reached the cabin, Ed was trembling so badly that he could barely talk. Mustang watched as he tried to open the door, but his hand was shaking too badly and he couldn't seem to get a grip on the knob. Mustang reached around him to open it, keeping one supportive hand on the kid's back in case he stumbled again.
"I hate...having...automail…." Ed muttered as Mustang steered him inside the cabin. He broke into another fit of coughing, and Mustang brought him over to the small couch and sat him down.
"Rest here for a second," Mustang said distractedly, eyes darting frantically around the cabin. "I'm going to try to get you...a blanket or something…."
Mustang wasn't sure exactly where Hughes had kept any spare blankets that the cabin might have, and he knew he needed to warm the kid up quick or he was going to get sick. He ended up just stripping the blanket off his own bed, sure he would have time to find some other solution before he actually ended up needing to sleep. He brought the wool blanket back out into the main room, where Ed was still shivering and dripping lakewater onto the sofa.
"Here," he said, tossing the blanket at Ed. "I'm going to try to find you some dry clothes."
"Thank...thank you," Ed coughed weakly. Mustang's eyes narrowed a little. The kid never thanked him for anything.
Mustang watched for a few moments as Ed fumbled with the blanket, trying to force his shaking hands to get a grip on it and bring it around his shoulders. Eventually, Mustang got tired of watching the alchemist struggle, and he carefully extricated the blanket from Ed's trembling hands and wrapped it around him. Ed refused to meet Mustang's eyes. He didn't say anything to him.
Just then, the phone rang from the small kitchen, startling them both. Mustang swore under his breath. This was a terrible time for a call, regardless of who it was from. Mustang's voice was still rather breathless from the cold, and he didn't want to leave the kid alone long enough to have some drawn out conversation in the kitchen. He let the phone ring again, unsure of what to do.
"Are you going to get that?" Ed finally asked weakly. Mustang found himself nodding. He retreated into the kitchen so he could answer the call. Riza's voice greeted him from the other end.
"Colonel?"
"Ah, Lieutenant," he said distractedly, peering back into the living room. Ed was still shivering on the couch. Mustang stretched the phone cord as far as it would go and managed to at least end up in the same room.
"I just have a quick question."
"What is it?"
"Wait, are you alright?" Riza said, sounding suddenly suspicious. "You sound...odd."
"I'm fine," Mustang replied, beginning to fumble with the matches. He tucked the phone between his shoulder and his ear and began trying to open the box. His hands shook with cold and he dropped the matches, swearing.
"Colonel?"
"What was that question?" Mustang asked, trying to distract her. Behind him, Ed coughed.
"Hey, what about the fire?" he said.
Mustang finally managed to extract a match, then dropped it again.
"I am doing my best, Fullmetal," he hissed.
"What?" Riza asked.
"Nothing, Lieutenant. Please, continue." Finally, he struck a match and got the fire going. Both he and Ed sighed with relief, and he tuned in to the telephone call to realize that he hadn't caught what Riza had said at all.
"Umm…."
"Colonel, what is going on?"
Mustang looked at Ed, who vehemently shook his head. "I'm fine," he mouthed.
"Umm, nothing, Fullmetal and I are just trying to…cook some…fish," he said lamely. There was silence from the other end. Then, in an incredible display of poor timing, Ed had a coughing fit. Mustang winced and backed into the kitchen, but it was too late.
"What happened?" Riza asked calmly. Then, she waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually, Mustang cleared his throat sheepishly.
"...there was a slight…incident while fishing this morning."
Riza waited some more. Mustang, feeling rather as though he were being scolded at school, continued.
"...and Fullmetal fell in the lake. I went in after him." Deciding this seemed too ambiguous, he rushed on. "Everything's fine now."
"You're bringing Ed to the doctor now, right?"
Ed shook his head frantically. "No doctors," he mouthed.
"No," Mustang said slowly. "I...I don't think that's going to be necessary. It was a bit of an incident this morning, but he seems completely alright now. I believe we intend to finish out the trip as planned."
"Colonel, if Ed got water into his lungs then it is absolutely imperative that you get him checked out. Otherwise he could get very seriously ill."
Mustang looked back at Ed again. The kid was shaking his head frantically.
"Fullmetal seems completely alright to me," Mustang said. "He should be fine for the rest of the week." There was silence on the other end. Mustang waited for Riza to say something. She didn't. "Lieutenant?"
Riza gave a small sigh. "Sir, if you're not leaving, I'm coming up." Before he could dissuade her, the line went dead.
Mustang returned the phone to his spot and looked at Ed. The young alchemist's hands were still trembling a little where they were clutched around the blanket, but at least he no longer looked like he was on the verge of flying apart. Water from his hair was still streaming into his eyes. Some of the color had returned to his face, but his lips were still pale. He looked a bit like a drowned rat to Mustang.
"What did she say?" Ed asked. Apparently he'd been able to hear some of the conversation, but not all of it.
Mustang sighed. "She's coming up," he said. He had the pleasure of watching the boy's eyes widen in shock.
"Here?"
Mustang nodded. "Hawkeye's efficient, I can't imagine it taking her more than a few hours to get here."
"But...why? Does she not think we can handle being up here alone?" Ed's eyes narrowed a little bit. "You didn't tell her I almost died, did you?"
"You told her yourself, with your incessant coughing. She thinks you're going to...fall seriously ill or something if you don't see a doctor, and when I told her we wouldn't leave she...I guess she decided the best thing she could do was come up here."
Ed rested his head in his hand, the one that wasn't made of metal. "Do you think she's going to be mad at me?" he groaned.
Mustang stiffened a little bit. Why would Riza be mad at the kid? If Riza was mad at anyone, it was certainly going to be Mustang himself. After all, Mustang was the one who had almost killed Ed, and now was allowing him to stay out in the wilderness instead of ensuring that he got proper medical care.
Not that he needed medical care, not in Mustang's opinion. Mustang had fallen into the lake plenty of times when he'd come down here with Hughes, and he'd never ended up any worse for the wear from it. The kid would be fine.
"She won't be mad at you," Mustang said firmly. Me, on the other hand...