Ran into some trouble with this chapter. The dummy I am decided to think about the content for the chapter after this one, so when I began writing this chapter, I found that I was short about 2,000 words (I aim for 3,000-4,000 every time). It's very obvious that this happened, because some of the content in this is really...random. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading! Please review! :)

It took all he had to get air in his lungs as his eyes moved from the paper to the man who'd written the words. He couldn't believe it. Then, as his gaze left the man's, he followed the clear tube that ran from his arm and up to a bag where droplets of liquid were slowly dripping down to enter his bloodstream.

"Y-you're just... It's just the medicine talking. Yeah, that's it. You're just a bit loopy. Yes, yes," he said uneasily, deeming drugs as the ultimate excuse for Roy's sudden affection. Besides, he knew Roy could never love him.

Roy gave him such a look, a look brimming with despair. He couldn't bear to look into those eyes a moment longer, and as he felt the walls of the room close in on him, claustrophobia seizing him, he began to take large steps back.

"I'm s-sorry, Roy. I-I have to go," he said, backing out of the room and gently shutting the door behind him. He stayed leaned against its cold metal surface for several minutes. With a deep and shaky breath, he pushed himself away from the door and staggered down the hall. His knees felt so incredibly weak and his mind flew ahead of him. He just needed to sit down and take a moment to recompose himself.

He sunk into the ripped leather with a leaden sigh, burying his head in his hands as he hunched over. He wondered how true Roy's written words were. He wondered if there was the possibility of affection from the man.

His mind was buzzing with thoughts and question and annoyingly started a pounding in his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose, which annoyingly made him think of Roy because he'd seen him do the same thing many times before. He wanted to scream. How good that would feel!

Once the headache grew into something too much to bear, he was able to sweet-talk a nurse into giving him aspirin. Again, he sunk into the chair in the waiting room. He leaned his head against the headrest of the chair and closed his eyes.

For the next two days, he made the waiting room his home. He never went to see Roy and Roy never asked to see him. However, once the doctor removed the tube from Roy's throat, granting him the power of verbal communication, he sternly (and very weakly) said he wanted to see Ed. No one else; just him.

"H-hey," the blond said uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sit," Roy said, pointing at the chair. His voice was soft and raspy from misuse, but his words still held the sharpness it always had when he gave a command.

Ed kept his head bowed, a strange feeling of guilt washing over him. He wasn't sure why he felt so guilty, but he knew that's what he was feeling; he knew that guilt was the cause for the unbearable burn that shadowed his heart and mind.

"Edward, thank you."

The blond lifted his gaze at the unexpected words, his eyes meeting those so oppositely colored than his own. His eyebrows came together in companionship to the questioning glance.

"Thank you," Roy repeated. "Isn't that what Dr. Fischer told me to say?"

Ed smiled, despite the unease and guilt he still felt. Perhaps he felt guilty because he hadn't embraced Roy's words of affection two days ago.

"I'm sorry too," the raven-haired man said, his voice already getting stronger.

"Sorry for what?"

"For what I'm about to say. I know you must still be freaked out from the other day, but you have to know." He spent a few moments simply gazing into the blond's eyes, admiring the way they twinkled like the jewels of the night. "I love you, Edward. I know it must seem strange to you, but believe me, I had the worst time trying to figure it out for myself. Listen, I'm not asking for you to say anything back or for you to instantly fall in love with me, but I do have something I'd like for you to do."

Ed nodded, not trusting his voice to speak for him.

"Will you sing for me? Well, hum. Just until I fall back asleep. You remember the first song I played for you, don't you?"

Ed nodded again and was surprised when he found himself humming the beautiful tune Roy had played on his piano. But what surprised him, shocked him, even more was when he felt Roy's hand weasel itself in his hand and he squeezed it tightly.

Moments later, he felt Roy's hand lose its grip and he smiled at seeing his closed eyes. Ed placed the man's hand at his side and chewed on his bottom lips as he looked down at his dozing body.

"I don't...I don't know, Roy," he whispered. "I've always had feelings for you, but I don't think it's ever been love. Or maybe I'm so madly in love with you that I just don't know it. But whether I love you or not, I will always care for you and be there when you need me. I promise."

With those words, he followed Roy's example and nodded off.

Hours later, he opened his eyes and immediately locked gazes with a set of dazzling onyx. He looked at Roy, noting that he looked younger than before. He offered a smile to the man, then saw that Roy's hands were clasped together with one thumb pinning the other.

"Uh...what are you doing?" Ed asked.

"I'm winning, 8-to-2," he replied with a satisfied smirk. Of course, Roy was a master at entertaining himself even though half the time it made him appear a bit unbalanced to other people.

"You've been having thumb wars with yourself?" Ed raised an eyebrow, leaning forward in his chair.

"No, that would be crazy and I am not crazy...yet."

"But how do you know if you've won?"

"If my right thumb pins down my left."

"But can't you just always make it so that your right thumb pins down your left?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because that's cheating, and besides, Mr. Left is a very formidable foe. If he didn't have a hangnail in his head, then he would be winning!"

"You're crazy!"

"No, just insane." Roy smiled and they both ended up sharing a laugh.

"I can't help it though. It gets so boring here! I wish I could just go home now," the raven-haired man said with a soft sigh.

"I'll see if I can bring you some books or something."

"That would be great! Mr. Left is a sore loser and I don't care too much for his poor sportsmanship, and Righty could use a break anyway. But until then, do you think you could beat Righty?"

"I bet I could," Ed said.

They engaged in a thumb-on-thumb battle as if they were schoolkids on the playground at recess. The simple game entertained them for a full hour, also entertaining Hughes and Riza as they stood in the door watching them.

"Having fun?" Hughes asked once their battle was over and Ed was announced as winner for the seventh time.

"Insanity's always fun," Roy said.

"We came by to let you know ahead of time that the Fuhrer will be coming to check on you and Dr. Fischer will be coming around too for some tests," Riza said.

"How do you all know what's going to happen before I do?"

"The nurses," Riza said simply.

Within that hour, the Fuhrer, with his personal guards standing in the hall, entered Roy's room.

"Colonel Mustang, I'm glad to see you are well," he said.

"I am honored by your concern, sir," Roy said.

"Dr. Fischer has informed me that you are recovering and I see that he was right." He gave an approving nod, his eyes carefully scanning Roy's body and all the machines he was hooked up to. A bit of surprising casual conversation commenced between the two, then the Fuhrer said his good-byes and left with entourage.

Having been pushed out of the room with the Fuhrer's arrival, Ed walked back in and took his spot at Roy's side.

"You win, Roy," the blond said softly.

"Huh?"

"I can't... I don't understand any of this. You've succeeded in confusing the hell out of me."

Ed's eyes widened when Roy's hand brushed against his cheek.

"What do you feel right now? Are you silently screaming for me to stop? Or do you want me to keep going?" He traced the teen's jawline, gently seizing his chin to tilt his head back slightly, his thumb softly brushing over his bottom lip.

"When? When did you start having these feelings for me?" the blond asked, pulling Roy's hand into his own and stroking his knuckles.

"The first week you were with me," he replied. He decided to take a gamble just then. "I know you love me too. Or if it's not love, then it's pretty damn close."

"What makes you say that?"

"The way you're holding my hand in yours. But it's not just that. You volunteered to stay with me, you sent me a rose, you took excellent care of me and never once cocked an attitude with me about anything I asked you to do. But there's something more than all of that. Something that has really told me all that I needed to know. It's the way you look at me, Ed. And even now I can see the shimmer of love, of hope, in your eyes. When our gazes lock, I can see into your soul. I can see exactly what you feel even though you yourself don't know it. You're in love, Edward. In love with me."

"Roy, I..." His voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. He felt his eyes begin to sting and damn it, he then felt something wet slide down his cheek. He bowed his head, his tears falling on the back of Roy's hand.

"Edward, why are you crying?"

"Because you're right. You're completely right and I've been lying to myself about it. Even now I can't bring myself to say that I -"

Roy pulled his hand out of the blond's, placing his index finger at his lips to hush his words. He lifted Ed's head for their gazes to meet. With a kind smile, he said, "Ed, don't worry about it. I understand. Hell, at first I couldn't admit that I had feelings for you either. You don't have to tell me that you love me or anything like that. Just so long as you keep to your promise, then that's enough for me."

"What promise?"

"You promised that you would always care for me and be there when I need you, regardless of whether you loved me or not. Did you really mean that?"

"Of course," Ed said softly, his eyes sliding shut as Roy wiped away the tears on his cheeks.

"And don't worry, Ed, if you find out that you don't love me or want nothing to do with me like that, it's not like I'm not already heartbroken."

Ed laughed lightly, remembering when the doctor let him listen to Roy's third heartbeat.

"I must be getting old," Roy said with a yawn, followed by a sharp gasp.

"What's wrong?" the blond asked urgently.

"It's nothing. Just a bit a pain, that's all. It hurts sometimes. My chest, that is. Hurts to talk and move and apparently yawn."

"Wait, you've been talking this whole time even though it hurts? You shouldn't have! Y-"

"Oh, be quiet, it doesn't hurt that bad. It's actually a comfortable pain when I'm talking. It's a good reminder that I'm not done yet. Anyways, will you -"

"Yes," Ed said softly, then began to hum like last time. It wasn't long before Roy fell into some other world.

Ed stayed next him while he slept, his mind buried in thoughts of the future, of the them. He kept asking himself if he wanted a life with the other man.

An hour later, Dr. Fischer walked in the room with Roy's assigned nurse. Before Ed could ask why they both had masks over the faces, the nurse shooed him out of the room. As he was pushed into the hallway, he noticed that every nurse and doctor walking about had a white mask on.

He waited and waited outside Roy's room, but when the doctor and nurse walked out, the nurse taped a piece of paper to the door: No visitors allowed.

"Hey, what's this?" Ed asked the nurse, pointing to the paper.

"Sorry, sir, but no one except medical personnel can see Colonel Mustang until this terrible bug moves out of Central."

"Terrible bug?" Ed could hear patients coughing down the hall and that was all it took for him to understand.

As the days went by, the number of coughing patients increased, and because of this, they weren't allowed to visit Roy any longer for fear that he would catch the virus from one of them and his immune system still wasn't quite where it needed to be to fight it off.

Ed, once again, made the waiting room his home. Everyone tried to make him go home and stay home, but he wasn't going to leave the hospital unless he was leaving with Roy next to him. He did, however, go home only long enough to take a shower, change his clothes, and eat a quick something.

He spent most of his time reading books he'd gotten from Roy's bookcase and when he wasn't doing that, he often found himself thinking about the raven-haired man and his words of affection. In a way, this separation from the man was a good thing for he was finally able to sort out his feelings and make a firm decision on how he felt for the man. He decided that at the first chance he got, he would tell Roy exactly how he felt. He found himself restless with the need to tell Roy how he felt.

The small blond was intently reading a mystery-murder book from Roy's when a commotion down the hall made him wrench his head up. He heard a nurse shout and something metal fell to the floor. Curious, he stood up to peek out the doorway. His heart dropped when he saw that all the commotion was coming from Roy's room at the very end of the hallway.

In a fit of panic, he ran for the room, desperately needing to know if the raven-haired man was okay. But he only got a glimpse of the man, because two other doctors had to hold him back and forced him away. He shoved into a chair and then Roy's assigned nurse came from behind the men to explain what was happening.

"He caught that bug," she explained. "The antibiotics we gave him did reduce his fever a bit, but it also gave him hallucinations. He kept saying something about Ishbal. No surprise given his military past with the Eastern Rebellion. But we had to sedate him before he caused harm to himself or one of the staff members. Dr. Fischer is going to keep him closely monitored for now."

"The antibiotics, will they get rid of what's ailing him?"

"That's what they're supposed to do, but we seem to be having some problems with that. He's been fighting this for the past two days and we've had to give him antibiotics five times, but his body rejects them each time. It's not that the medicine isn't working, it's that it's not working as well as it should. I'm sure if you were to get sick with this and we gave you the medicine, then you would recover only a day or so later. With the colonel, however, it only helps him with one thing and that's usually only the fever."

"Is he in pain?" Ed asked, remembering how much it hurt the man to simply yawn.

"We have him on a slow drip of morphine to help that, but he can't have too much of it because of his heart's condition. However, the sedative we gave him has probably made it painless for him to sleep. A good thing, that is."

"Thank you."

"I'll be sure to keep you updated. You must really care about him, don't you? You're in this room everyday. I think you deserve to be told what's going on," she said with a smile, then nodded before returning to her work.

Ed sighed deeply, his nerves shot beyond repair. With shaking hands, he picked up his book and flipped through the pages to find where he had left off.

'Roy, you better get well again so that I can tell you that I do love you,' he thought, hoping the words would find themselves in Roy's dreams.

I hope that the emotion in this chapter is believable and I know a lot of you readers don't care too much for saptastic content, so sorry if you found it too sappy. But if you found this chapter distasteful (hopefully not the case!) in an emotional/sappy sense, then the next chapter is definitely not for you.

But anyway, I should mention that by saying Roy caught a bug, that simply means he got sick. Where I live, it doesn't matter what's wrong with you, you just caught a little bug or a cold. It's nothing serious like...um...malaria or cholera. Just a cold, that's all. Wanted to be clear. Hehe.

Please review! Oh, and thanks sooooo much for all the reviews and whatnot thus far. As of right now (3:52 p.m. on 12/22/08), this fic has 41 reviews and 994 Hits. Very proud!