ROY

"Hawkeye! If you don't let me out of this bed I will have you court marshaled! That is a promise!" The newly made Lt. General, as he had skipped Brigadier and went straight on, screamed from his hospital bed.

"I know sir, you've said that for the last hour." Hawkeye replied, turning the page in her book. "Be a bit more imaginative in your threats."

"Damn it Riza!" Roy, finally reached the end of his patience, threw a pillow at the newly made Major. "I just want to help find him!"

Unruffled by the childish tantrum, Hawkeye turned the page again to continue reading as the pillow slumped to the wall behind her. "And by staying in bed you are helping Roy. Already you've done more to help then the other active Colonels and Brigadier Generals that were assigned to clean up. You are doing the best you can by staying right there."

Knowing that his Major was correct did not dampen his bad mood. If anything it inflamed it. "I know that! But I still feel useless just laying here signing papers as Edward lies dying somewhere! If not dead."

Before Riza could form an answer, a panicked knock alerted the pair to the arrival of the new First Lt. Havoc. "Hawkeye! General! We found him!"

No one needed to ask which male had been found. Instead, Hawkeye was three steps down the hall before she whirled back and grabbed a wheelchair from a passing nurse. Pushing it back to the room, she thrust Mustang down into it as he finished ripping needles from his hand. Spinning back to the hall, she followed Havoc down the hall towards the OR.

Barking orders from his wheelchair, Mustang had one hand gripping his wounded shoulder as he tried to get his thoughts and emotions under control. "Lt! What is his condition?" Noticing that they were moving toward the OR, on towards the intensive care unit, he forgo the thought of a dead alchemist.

"I'm not sure chief. Falman called me and told me they pulled him out of the lower rubble not an hour ago. And since he's been under for five days whatever happened to him is worsened by the dehydration and malnutrition." He grabbed Riza by the arm and dragged them around a corner down to a small waiting room. A set of double doors, steel with a small window in each near the top middle, stood to the left of a row of chairs against the far wall. "But what I know is that his right arm had to be detached to get him out and that one of his legs was broken. I don't know if it was the automail or flesh one though."

A doctor, dressed in all white, came from the double doors a few minutes later. Giving his subordinate a reprieve, Mustang turned to the doctor. "Well?" He snapped after waiting for all of three seconds while the doctor read over his little clipboard.

"Are you Mr. Elric's commanding officer?" The doctor looked to the blonde woman at Mustang's shoulder. "A general Mustang?"

If the moment hadn't been so serious Havoc might have laughed at the look of outrage on the real Mustang's face and the look of disgusted shock on Hawkeye's. "Do I look like a male doctor?"

Startled, the doctor rechecked his chart before looking at the Lt. who vigorously shook his head before making a jabbing motion with one finger toward the angered male. "Oh, I wasn't expecting his superior to be…indisposed." The look of speculation on the doctor's face did nothing to sooth the fire alchemist's temper.

"If you want to keep your job and if you want to remain a living breathing human, I would get to the point doctor or I will find someone to replace you." Roy hissed, wishing that he had at least one glove to scare the good doctor into next week. But as Edward had taken his first pair and Hawkeye hadn't been out of the hospital since he had been admitted he had not had a chance to gain another pair.

Startled, the doctor returned to looking at his clipboard, nearly hiding behind it as Roy glared up at him. "Hmm…yes, Mr. Elric is in serious condition. His left arm was dislocated at the shoulder, and has been for at least the last four days. The severity of the damage made it hard for us to place it back, and he will have difficulty with movement for at least two more weeks. His right shoulder port was brutally torn apart when stone fell onto him. I'm calling in a specialist to come and look at him and he will help me rebuild the port along with the one in his leg."

Holding up his hand, Roy stopped him. "Is it imperative that Fullmetal has to the ports fixed immediately?"

Frowning, the doctor shook his head. "No, it could wait a few days until he is stronger, but I would like to do it now while I have him under the knife. Less trauma you see."

"The only trauma Fullmetal will suffer is at the hands of his mechanic if someone else even thinks about messing with his automail. As she is already in route with her grandmother, you can put off the reconstruction surgery until tomorrow. Continue."

Miffed that this military dog was bossing him around, the man growled back. "I will do whatever I think right by my patient. I will not be ordered around by a pompous jackass that thinks he knows what he's talking about. Why don't you keep to the killing and I'll keep to—"

The arrogant doctor, who had never given his name and wouldn't be around long enough for any of the three officers to care enough to gain one, went down after a strong left hook to his face from one blonde. Breathing heavily, Havoc straightened his collar and stalked down the hall to flag a nurse or doctor that could take over.

Hawkeye merely raised one thin eyebrow as she watched the Lt. walk away. "I think he's been around us too long sir."

Chuckling even though he was still mad and stressed lifted Roy's spirits a tad. "Perhaps." Motioning for the Major to pick up the fallen clipboard, he scanned it quickly for the important parts. "Broken automail, three fractured ribs, internal bruising, one dislocated shoulder, one fractured hip, the left leg is shattered in three different places, thumb, and two fingers of his left hand broken, and a mild concussion. How the fuck did he survive?" A multitude of words and conditions followed after that amounted to blood loss, starvation, and dehydration made it apparent that whatever hell Edward had endured he could no longer be classified as a 'non-combat' alchemist. "When are the Rockbells to arrive?"

"Tonight at 7 o'clock." Riza was horrified as well. The seventeen year old had been brutalized beyond some of the veterans from Ishval. "Do you think that Edward will need another automail limb…"

Sighing, Roy directed Hawkeye to roll him over to the wall. "I don't know. But I will be damned if I let that fool near one of my men again." He glared at the offensive sack of flesh lying on the floor. Tapping a finger to his leg, he tried to keep his icy mask up as the throbbing in both his shoulder and head grew.

I wish you were here Maes, I need your advice.