Title: Ich Will
Pairing: RoyxEd
Word Count: about 4000
Rating: R
Summary:While on assignment an accident leaves Ed in a coma. Roy learns that the rogue alchemist Ed was after is on the loose with an insidious agenda for revenge. Can Roy catch him before it's too late? Or will he lose Ed forever?
A/N: SO MUCH LATER THAN EXPECTED! DX I'm sorry on the wait, the holiday season attacked me whenever I tried to work on this an other pieces of writing. It's not as long as I would have liked T_T, I actually had part two going in a another direction and then the plot showed itself and decided to do something different. Anyway here's part two of Ich Will, enjoy! Hope everyone has a safe and fun evening and a wonderful New Year for 2011 :)
Disclaimer: I do not own FMA or the characters, only the writing is mine.
Fullmetal Alchemist © Hiromu Arakawa
Day II
The morning broke with pale clouds and the soft whisper of bird song outside his bedroom window. Feeble light peeked under the curtains but fell no farther than the floor beneath the casement. Shadowy hair lay spiked against the pillow, sable brushed against a white backdrop, long ebony lashes rested against ivory skin. His face void of any masks in sleep, the expression he wore was neither quite satisfied nor entirely relaxed. Upper body exposed from beneath the silvery sheets that rested against his hipbones. Long swaths of muscled skin, lax with sleep, rose and fell with the gentle snores that reverberated in his chest. To complement the subtle tickticktick of the brass clock on the bedside table, creating a pleasurable harmony.
All was blissfully at peace.
In anticipation of the shrill screech of the alarm clock which woke Roy from his slumber with a loud snort. Groggily he stretched an arm out bringing it down mercilessly on top of the alarm to silence the bells without even moving his head from the pillows. Five more minutes would not hurt nor would it get him shot.
He burrowed deeper into the covers, gave a content groan and flung his right arm out to pull his lover closer.
Except his hand landed on cool empty sheets; he moved his hand back and forth, reaching for the warm body beside him, his fingers grasping nothing but fabric and air.
Roy cracked a drowsy eye open, wondering if his companion hadn't rolled all the way to the edge of the bed out of Roy's reach.
The bed was empty. Roy sat up, disregarding the niggling of evidence in the back of his head, listening for the sound of pipes or running water or movement from down stairs, something, anything, to prove that Ed was in the house. Not a sound. His eyes fell to the undented pillow beside him and the still neatly made side of the bed Ed normally slept on.
He wasn't here.
'Of course he wasn't,' Roy thought bitterly running his fingers through his hair. Ed was in the hospital, in a coma no less. He scowled at the sheets pooled around his waist then looked to the clock, sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
After returning to work the previous day, Roy had managed to scrape together a grand total of zero percent of his concentration. Too worried and shaken about Ed to give his full attention to his paperwork he had glumly waited out the remaining hours until it was late enough in the day to emerge from his office, hand the half completed files to Hawkeye and announce he was going home.
Once home, however, all Roy had done was prowl through the domain of his sanctuary. Pacing back in forth in front of the crackling fire he had lit for peace of mind rather than the cold; his thoughts brimming with inquisitive anxieties for Ed's wellbeing. Every small pop of the fire and creak of the house making him turn his head to the phone like a dog waiting to hear its masters' call. It was only the deceptive reassurances from his brain, Ed would be fine, he always was, he'll probably be awake and ready to get out of the hospital by morning, which had made him finally go to bed and had him drift off into an uneasy sleep.
Casting aside the covers Roy got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom down the hall. Falling into the rhythm of his morning routine with ease: he answered the call of nature, showered, dried himself, shaved, checked his face for any stray stubble, combed his hair, brushed his teeth, and dressed while repeating to himself like a mantra that Ed was fine. By the time that he had brewed some coffee he was convinced that he almost believed it himself. Just a hint of doubt, a veil of uncertainty cloaked the hope from becoming a pillar of strength that would crumble if he was wrong. It would save him from the hurt should Ed not…
Roy shook his head, trying to dislodge the wearisome thoughts from his brain. They wouldn't serve him any purpose but to worry him out of his skull and they certainly did not help Ed.
He went to take another drink of his coffee, relishing the strong bitter taste on his tongue when he looked to the counter and realized that he had pulled a second cup down from the cupboard, a cup for his lover who normally started the morning with him. He set his cup down; replacing it with the cool ceramic of the empty mug he had pulled out for Ed. Turning it in his hands for a moment, the smooth off white of the glazed ceramic reflecting a muddied smear of colors back at him, lost in thought and wanting Ed in his arms.
The rumble of a car approached outside and a moment later a brash honk from the horn announced second lieutenant Havoc's arrival. Roy sighed, set the mug in his hands aside, downed the last of his coffee and headed for the door. Duty called.
Havoc greeted him with an idle salute, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. "Morning Chief,"
Roy gave a nod and climbed into the back seat of the black car "She's still mad at me I take it," he said dryly.
"With all due respect sir, you brought this on yourself," Havoc grinned as he pulled away from the curb, accelerating once they were out on the main road.
Roy shrugged, as if it was his fault the first lieutenant did not see the value of highly educational fire drills. The penance for his deeds had been rather drastic in his opinion. Hawkeye had kept him in the office until well after ten in the evening fixing and signing all the reports that had caught fire and as added abuse has had Havoc pick him up from home every morning for the past three weeks now. To shuttle him back and forth between work and home like a naughty school boy.
"How's the boss doing?" blue eyes flicked up in the rear view to look at him.
"As well as can be expected when I last saw him," Roy replied, watching the white tower of Headquarters growing larger as they approached.
"Hawkeye told us," he paused blue eyes flicking back to his superior in the mirror again before reaching for the cigarette behind his ear and placing it between his lips, "she told us the doc said it doesn't look good."
"Fullmetal will be fine," he waited for the guards at the gates to wave them through ignoring the thrashing uncertainty in his stomach, "He always is."
Colonel Roy Mustang's work day began with the ceremonial briefing of the day's agenda. Hawkeye came into his office with a slim stack of paperwork in her hands, saluted, placed the stack on his desk and ran through the morning's schedule. The files currently on his desk needed to be signed and returned to the lieutenant by eight so as to give him time to prep for a meeting with General Hakuro. The meeting should take two hours given time for all those involved to explain their points and make their voice heard. Then he was due back in the office to sign paperwork until lunch. After that he had inspections of a new prototype for flame resistant uniforms. By the time he was finished there the colonel had nothing left on his schedule that required him to be out of the office.
"If you're not held over sir, then you should have the rest of the afternoon to start on some of the paperwork I've found underneath the filing cabinet," her tone was flat and the level look she gave him was worse than any glare. "I would like them finished before the week is over Colonel." His first lieutenant didn't need to use threats to back up her words; he could feel the glaring irritation held in check beneath her cool posture. Besides he was still dealing with the consequences of his latest blunder.
"Of course lieutenant," he docilely acquiesced, picking up his pen and opening the first file in front of him. Roy looked to the clock on his desk, one thin black hand pointing towards the numerical seven, the other a little past the twelve. Roy reigned in the sigh before it had time to build up, sat up a little straighter in his chair and commenced to read the file before him. He had hoped for news about Ed, but it was only just the beginning of the work day. Word would probably trickle down through the vine of intelligence and make it to Roy's ears before lunch if word traveled fast as it so often did in the military. Patience was all he needed.
"If any word had come I would have already told you sir," Hawkeye revealed after a moment of silence.
Roy looked up from the fine print on the page to his first lieutenant. Her face was neutral, schooled into the calm expression of a soldier at ease. Blonde hair pulled up in a professional clip and auburn eyes trained on his face. They gave away nothing, holding the secret, which Roy had never really told her, safely.
"Thank you lieutenant, dismissed,"
Hawkeye saluted and departed from the office closing the door behind her. The raven haired man sat for a moment, pen poised over the white sheet before him. Riza Hawkeye wasn't his fist lieutenant for nothing, she saw all the little details of his life in sharp focus: inside as well as outside of the office. Since Hughes passing the lieutenant had taken it upon herself to inform the Colonel of Fullmetal's comings and goings, filling in the gaps of information that were left empty in the late Brigadier-General's absence.
Roy had never told anyone of his and Ed's relationship, no one living at least. The greatest stipulation of them being together was that no one could know; which in hindsight, no one really did know except for Alphonse. As much of a shock as it had been for the younger Elric he kept their secret, if not for Roy then for his brother's sake. Roy was sure Riza knew of his feelings towards Ed; she had seen the longing looks that reduced the world to just Ed and him, caught the tail end of touches and stolen kisses.
But Roy had never explained and Riza had never asked. In truth, he was protecting her as much as she was him. Should she ever be questioned on if she knew of any immoral fraternization between Colonel Mustang and Major Elric she could honestly answer no. But should their relationship ever be discovered, Hawkeye would be spared from any bad grace because when it came down to point blank truth, Roy had never said one word to his first lieutenant about his feelings for the blonde alchemist. Although Roy doubted his lieutenant would claim such ignorance, just as Ed would never let Roy take the fall for both of their sins to protect him. The same as how the Flame Alchemist would do whatever it took to keep those close to him safe.
He looked to the clock again, and pulled a face at the time. Dispelling his mind of all thoughts but those required to concentrate and sign on the dotted line, Roy settled himself into the work day.
Five O'clock could not have come fast enough. A Wednesday had no right to be so drawn-out, every hour dawdling behind the other in one gradual, laborious stretch after the other. When Roy was Fuhrer there would be no Wednesday along with Monday and Tuesday. The work week would consist of Thursday, because nothing remarkable happened on Thursday's and Friday because Friday gave people a chance to look forward to the weekend. Yes, when he was Fuhrer there would be changes. Many great and celebrated changes but for now Roy was content to loath the Wednesday he had just suffered through.
Hawkeye never came back into the office to give him news regarding a certain blonde alchemist. Not even a passing reassurance of no change in the situation. Yet at the end of the day no word had come from the hospital on Fullmetal's status. Which could mean a number of things, Roy reasoned with himself. No news was good news wasn't it?
No. Ignorance was hell. Pure agonizing hell to sit and let his thoughts prey on his heart strings; plucking them back and forth like they were connected to a poorly constructed marionette. His subconscious imagining horrors and tragic scenarios by the dozens were almost enough to make him bolt from the confines of military headquarters to his lovers' side.
But that didn't matter now. The work day was done and he had Havoc drive him to the hospital to check on Fullmetal's progress. Through the double glass doors and Roy was glad to see a different nurse at the receptionist desk. He signed the guest registry and continued on his way up the stairs, the little star of hope in his chest growing brighter with each step, calling out Ed, Ed, Ed, in time with his heart.
The hallway was blue, he noticed this time, the floor shined in the light that fell through the open doorways to other rooms. His dark eyes scanned the corridor falling on the closed door to room 314. He hesitated, one hand raised to knock, listening for any sounds of life beyond the door.
"Back again Colonel?"
Mustang turned; there stood the nurse from the other day. Rubicund hair pulled back beneath her cap, a kind smile on her face and clipboard in hand.
"I've come to check on my subordinate," he explained.
"Not much change 'm afraid," she said walking around him to open the door. "You can seem him still if you like, I'm sure Alphonse would love the company."
"I'm sorry I don't believe I heard your name from the other day?" he asked eying the half open door distrustfully.
"Helen," she replied extending a hand. "Helen Rocha."
"Roy Mustang," he shook her smaller hand.
"I know," she beamed walking into the room, greeting Al who sat by the window surrounded by small towers of books.
"Evening Mrs. Rocha," Al welcomed polite as ever setting his book aside, and then caught sight of Roy behind her "Good evening Colonel."
"Alphonse," he said, feeling awkward as to what he could actually say to the younger Elric with the stout nurse in the room.
Their eyes, a pair of dark summer sky and red rimmed points of light, fell to Helen who had Ed's left wrist in her hand, fingers over the pulse.
"Still a little too fast," she murmured to herself marking the numbers down on the clipboard "You said his mechanic was coming?"
"Yes, Winry said she'd be here Friday," Al informed looking to his brother. "Is there something wrong with brother's automail?"
"I'm not sure, I don't know much about artificial limb attachments to make that kind of judgment," she said moving on to check the blonde's other vitals "But I'm sure Winry will be able to tell us when she gets here." She gave a genuine smile, finished with her examination and bid them farewell, promising Al that she would be back to check on Ed before her shift was over.
"She's really nice," Al spoke first once the door was closed. "She comes in and visits on her breaks, makes sure I'm alright." He stood with a soft shifting of metal and walked over to his brother's side. Roy followed helpless not to move closer to the blonde alchemist that his body keened for. Watched as Al picked up his brothers flesh hand and held it in his oversized gauntlets, stroking it gently. "Brother, Brother, the Colonel's here,"
The pleading tone he used to call out to his unconscious sibling made Roy feel wretched, made him want to shake Ed awake to answer his brother. He remembered the conversations they had shared in the dark of the night when they lie pressed against one another, beating heart to beating heart. How Ed had talked about Al and the smile that lit his face every time he mentioned his little brother. He told Roy about when they were younger and Al always managed to beat him when they fought, the little insignificant details of their childhood that was all they had to remember it by. Ed had told him what he would do for Al, what he could and would give, and Roy had heard behind his words the devotion not entirely borne of guilt. Had listened and felt the sheer amount of love that Ed had for his little brother; so much love and devotion and guilt all mixed into what Ed was for Alphonse. It hurt Roy, in an odd way he hurt for Ed too, in a hollow feeling beneath his ribs, that Ed was not here for his brother now.
"Brother…Ed come on now your being rude, the Colonel came all the way down here to see you," he turned to look up at Roy, "The doctor said talking to people while they're in a coma sometimes helps, they can still hear what you're saying and Mrs. Rocha said that if you touch them they do better from the contact," he recited this as he stroked his hands over Ed's again trying to elicit a response from him.
His heart tripped a beat or two faster. Ed could hear him? He would feel it if he touched him, he would know Roy was there waiting for him. A million touches, caresses, holds and gestures made his arms, hands and fingers ache. A thousand words demanded to be said, all at once, now now now. He tried to stifle the sudden joy, the exurbanite emotion of hope that had deflated when he walked in the room felt ready to almost burst. The light bulb went off in his head a few times before being smashed by the hammer his conscious was holding. Each bulb of an idea cracking under the head of the hammer with an electric pop the brief fizzle of blue neon energy coiling along the curled wire. Dancing around the scatter pot of his thoughts and ….one light bulb clicked itself into being and the hammer rested steadily in his psyche's hands.
"I don't think he can hear you, Alphonse," Roy said airily, watching Ed's face for even a twitch of recognition, taking a deep breath "With such small ears like the ones he has he probably couldn't even hear an elephant walk past him,"
Both held their breaths, one doing so even though he physically couldn't, waiting for the outburst that was expected of the blonde boy in the bed.
"He's a microscopic bean anyway you wouldn't want to squish him like an ant," Clearly being subjected to Ed's infuriated rants of fabricated height abuse had taken its toll on his mind. Roy was carefully going through the long list of names, insults, slurs, slights, invectives, innuendos, well aware of the hammer spinning around in his conscious grip. When Ed woke up he was going to demand compensation for the mental trauma.
"But Colonel," Alphonse began, the voice of reason. "He's such a small microscopic bean anyway, if you tried squishing him like an ant he would just fit in between the tread on your boots."
He took it all back, Al was entitled to far more mental compensation then he ever would be. To think one little blonde boy had reduced them both to this form of foolish, childish name calling. Like children, that's really the only word to describe the two of them, children waiting for the moment when their friend would be released from timeout to come and play again.
Hoping for it, wishing for it but nothing. The light bulb in his head grew dim and went out.
Not so much as a twitch, let alone the miraculous awakening they wanted. The hammer swung, Roy knew it would, relentlessly down in a swift arc and the dead bulb exploded into black glassy stars.
Roy let out the breath he had been holding, feeling himself go as limp and stretched as a child's overblown party balloon. He stepped closer to Ed and Al relinquished the hand he had been holding, placing it in the colonels hands before Roy even knew what he was doing and stepped away. Roy looked to him, confusion and surprise mixing in amid the tangle of his dejected emotions. Alphonse was looking out the window apparently absorbed in his book, which was upside down, his back pointedly turned towards his brother and the colonel.
Roy wryly smiled wrapping his hand around Ed's and intertwining their fingers, holding tightly to him like a life line. Roy bent closer, almost nose to nose with his lover and pressed his forehead to the crown of Ed's golden hair. Watching him like he would in the mornings when Ed was still limp-limbed and sprawled next to him, head tucked under his chin, nose pressed into the crook of his neck, soft tendrils of hair tickling his cheek and the flutter of his lashes brushing against his skin. But there was no movement from Ed, no change in his muted face. He withheld the whimper cramming it back down his throat with fierce pride. He leaned closer pressing his face to the side of Ed's head and whispered in his ear. "Edward, wake up. Your brother's here waiting for you, he needs you…" ever so softly cupping his face with his left hand, resting his forehead against Ed's.
Why of all the people he could have to be in a relationship with, of all the people he could be enamored to, why Fullmetal? Why the boy who grated against his nerves, threw up roadblocks in his path, the brat who was so beautiful even when he was unconscious, the stubbornly loyal idiot who was so immature at times yet frighteningly the complete opposite at others, the man who was the most dangerous lethally attractive evil to him when he managed to pull his masks away and making Roy's heart bleed for him.
Breathe.
Roy leaned up and kissed Ed's forehead, his lips brushing against the white bandage there. He looked down at their hands, at the knot of their fingers; why Fullmetal, because he loved him. Softly, barely a whisper "Please wake up… please come back to me."
His heart wept when there was no reply.
The raven haired man straightened easing his fingers from in between the blonde's, settling the hand back on the bed beside him with a longing desire to have it in his grasp again. Roy looked to Alphonse who had turned his book around the proper way, cleared his throat, slipped his mask back into place and spoke. "I'll be back Friday to check on Fullmetal's progress, I have meetings tomorrow and I'm afraid I've been neglecting some paperwork the lieutenant will want finished for the week," He walked over to the door and looked back to the suit of armor, cast a glance towards Ed then back to Al. "Goodnight Alphonse."
"Goodnight Colonel," Al returned as the door closed.
Day III
There would be no Thursday when Roy was Fuhrer.
