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Board of Squares
Chapter Six
Symptoms of the Rake

- mirage–

Dinner at the Elric apartment was dreadfully unappealing. Hawkeye made one meal, and ate with Alphonse.

He was nervously disturbed with her food preparation, hovered over her, and insisted on cleaning up. Raised under traditional values, he was desperately cautious not to place her in the role of a made, and privately, Hawkeye found this adorable. Alphonse was sweet by nature, and he was easy to enjoy.

They amused themselves with conversation as she cooked bland unseasoned mash potatoes. Alphonse knew the meal was sad, seemed worried she was forced under some guise of etiquette partake, and was mentally comparing it to the enticing dish she'd prepared earlier for Ed, while Hawkeye pretended not to notice.

They ate slow, with Alphonse in a state of cautious high alert, taking incredibly small bites, and over chewing everything. Afterward he left to shower. Took her with him to the bathroom and warned her of the glazed tub, where Ed's automail abrasive chemicals polished the porcelain dangerously. He warned her for her safety, and not his own. Boasted confidentially that he could manage himself using the two support rails the Elrics had installed, looking unashamed and unembarrassed, because Edward used them too. While limited to the traction of a single flesh foot, was the reason they were there, and Hawkeye accepted this sharing of information with a force smile. Resigned herself to Alphonse's inability to filter Ed's personal information, and tolerated the disclosure with a vow of confidence, and what she hoped were unrevealing expressions.

She set up camp in the living room, tossing down a sleeping bag. Alphonse took care of himself well, and left his shower pink from the warm water. His activities consumed an absorbent amount of time, and although he was concerned with her sleeping on the floor, rather than a couch, or a bed, let her convince him she'd experienced far worse, and didn't mind.

He went to bed early, at nine, and she was left reading until eleven. Woke again shortly after two when he dropped to his knees alongside her shoulders, with all of him shivering, and whispered, "I'm sorry I'm waking you," sounding worried.

"What is it?" Hawkeye lifted to an elbow. It was too dark to see his expression, but his trembling body was a frail stalk in the moonlight.

"I am having some trouble managing my body temperature." His tone was crushed with embarrassment, and overwhelmed with despair. Waking her, when she was nice enough to stay with him. "I am sorry," he whimpered, "can you help me?"

"Of course." Hawkeye sat up, pulling the hair tie from her wrist to trap her loose strands. "What should I do?"

"I…need my brother."

Hawkeye was speechless. "Alphonse, that's not going to be possible." She worried about how clearly he was thinking half asleep and sounding ill. "What can we do to help the situation?" She tried to redirect him. "Tell me, what I can do."

"Nii-san, lets me sleep with him." With the exhaustion Alphonse sounded years younger, childlike, and innocent. "Can we get him?" Hawkeye shook her head slowly, steeling herself for a scenario where she was asked heartbreaking questions, and would have to refute and deny. "Can I call him?" Alphonse whined. "Just a little?" Sounded desperate. "I need him right now."

"I am…so sorry." She meant this. "There is no phone he has access to." Alphonse reached forward, and his grasp felt of nothing but cold hard bones. It was startling, both in the strength of the grip, and the fleeting sense of death. As if he were a corpse.

"Can I sleep with you?"

She reached for him, and it was eerie, but his cold skin against her healthy flesh, sent her panicking. "My God, Alphonse." He was as cold as death, and she opened her blankets. Welcomed him forward, humbled by his trust, and enveloped by an instinctual urge to help care for him. "Come inside." She helped him slip in. "It's okay." His feet were bare, and she pulled them against her legs, and spooned him.

Alphonse startled with surprise. Took hold of her arm with thin dry fingers, and asked, "Is this okay?" Sounding uncertain, and willing to trust she wouldn't lie to him.

"For a little bit." Hawkeye's mind was spinning. Combing over their evening and hunting for how this could have happened. "Did—did you wake up cold?"

"I threw up."

In a rush, she covered them to their chins. "Are you sick?" Felt his forehead. "Should I do something?" He was leaching the heat from her body, and she dared not move. "Does that mean something, Alphonse? Does it mean something that you've thrown up?" Was this a symptom or sign of something they should note?

"It happens sometimes when I sleep." He was resting on her pillow. "It just wakes me up. We're not sure why it happens." Like most everything else. "Nii-san things its because I might be resting on my stomach for too long too close to eating, but," a soft smile entered his tone, "eating at night makes me tired."

"You're brave to push through all of this, Alphonse. Ed loves you so much. He sees how hard you're trying, and it's easy to see how he's trying in return."

"Have I gotten him…into a lot of trouble?"

Hawkeye felt the conversation expand from something she felt capable of discussing to something new. "Why do you ask?"

"He's been away for a while now, and hasn't come to see me at all." It was depressing. "He should have snuck out and come here to let me know what's going on, and he hasn't." Hawkeye tucked Alphonse in tighter, and closed her hands around his to warm them. "That doesn't mean you've housed him well, it means he's too scared to sneak out. Things must be serious."

Hawkeye pet her hand up to Alphonse's forehead and then back to the crown of his head. "Your recovery has the doctors confused, and they're worried Ed might not be helping you the right way." This seemed the most polite way to explain it.

"They're going to assume I'm being hurt, to look like this, and they'll think Nii-san's the one doing it." Alphonse sounded as certain as he was devastated by this fact. "It's just as much my fault as his I lost my body, but he's the only one who helped me get it back." Alphonse returned Hawkeye's cradling grip on his hands with a gentle squeeze. "You know Nii-san doesn't hurt me, right?" Something in his tone was a disappointed accusation, but then softly came a scared and whispered, "Right?"

"Yes." Even with evidence suggesting otherwise, in her heart she felt she knew what Edward was capable of. Remembered him as the innocent little boy waiting about Mustang's desk looking nervous, but eager to do his best. And how could you ever think something so genuine and caring could maliciously hurt their own?

"Then…will you tell him you don't believe them?"

Hawkeye was taken back. There was something about discussing this with Ed that made her seem as if she was pushing a rude subject into his face unnecessarily. She had not opened it for discussion on purpose, and felt Ed was ashamed of his charges.

"Please?" Alphonse tugged at her hand. "I don't want Nii-san to feel alone." Did Ed feel isolated in his shame and guilt? "The Colonel is tough on him, and Nii-san takes it to heart." A glimmer of moisture caught the moonlight on Alphonse's cheek, and Hawkeye felt her mood plummet further. Around them the living room furniture was murky shadows, and she didn't respond. "I am the one who put him in this position, and I'm useless this way. I can't think well, I don't feel like myself, I know I'm not acting like myself, I just…" Alphonse's voice choked into a rasp, and Hawkeye came to realize the glimmer she thought were tears, was a growing nose bleed. "…Just didn't word things right."

Hawkeye reached up to the coffee table and fished for tissues. What fool gave Alphonse details to Ed's charges. Plucking a few down, she delicately brought them to his nose.

"Your brother knows you would never do anything to hurt him Alphonse," she said firmly. "A simple misunderstanding will never confuse him, and the Colonel," oh the Colonel, "the Colonel will help him in every way he can. Mustang will not abandon Ed, he's a good man, and he values Ed's friendship."

Alphonse gave a sniffle and wiped at his eyes. "I feel sick. Bile keeps pushing up my throat, and I feel bloated in my lower intestines."

"Hey now," she teased. "I hope you're not insulting my award-winning potatoes."

Alphonse choked a tiny tear filled laugh. "When can Nii-san come home?"

"Tomorrow." She held the tissues and felt the blood soak in. "Tomorrow."

Mustang's first call of the morning was from Drachma, where he confirmed the train ticket and Central hotel they had reserved for Ms. Sanders. She was on her way, and sounded excited to visit Central and return to Amestris. It was winter in the North, and the storms had been bad.

The second call was from Hawkeye, and she skipped pleasantries for demands.

"I can't just let him out of his cell," Roy argued. "Lieutenant, people will notice, and this reflects poorly on all of us."

"You have to send him." Her tone was serious, nonnegotiable, and audibly there was something riding on this but she wasn't saying what. "Sir, you need to do this." Roy gave a groaning sigh and lifted his gaze to the office. Havoc, Falman, and Breda were working diligently on a stack of paperwork, and Fuery was piecing together small electronic pieces he kept referring to as, chips. "Sir?"

"Even if I could sneak him out for a bit, what for? What will it accomplish?"

Hawkeye's tone became short, and sounding frustrated, she said, "Trust." As if it should have been obvious. "It demonstrates to Edward that you trust him. That you're not accusing him of these things."

Roy felt slighted with his oversight, and assaulted with the muddling emotions that came with it. Was he a hundred percent certain of Ed's innocence?

"Sir, you need to do it." Hawkeye continued with her stern tone. "You need to do it, and if you haven't decided whether or not you have faith in his innocence, then let me tell you," she lowered her voice, "you do." A silence lingered before she repeated a crisp and guiding, "You do."

Mustang ordered Breda to release Ed from his cell and take him to his dorm with as much stealth as possible. With Alchemy Ed changed the color of his coat and tucked his hair into a ball cap so he would be as inconspicuous as possible. The drive was silent, and Breda returned to Command after pulling to the curb before Ed's building so he could step out.

Unaware Ed was coming, Alphonse was huddled under a blanket on the couch, temperature a degree too low, and fighting a bronchial wheeze.

Ed charged into the apartment as if running a race. The slamming door a gunshot, before Ed's heavy footfalls stormed to Alphonse, and Hawkeye's fear of an explosion, or intruder, fell away with Alphonse's loud and relieved, "Nii-san!"

Stepping from the bathroom sink, where she'd been wetting a cloth for Alphonse's forehead, Hawkeye found him seated on the couch. Ed a kneeling statue hugging Alphonse's bundled torso like a groveling peasant to a king.

It looked as if she'd have time to speak, after a silence sensitive of their reunion, but she was wrong. Almost as quickly as Ed was hugging, he sat back, uprooting, with a rushed and stern, "Listen to me, Al. Whatever anyone tells you I did, I want you to know, I didn't." Ed was shaking his head quickly. "I have never hurt you, and you know that, right?" Tone wavering with something very close to raw fear.

Alphonse reached forward and grasped Ed's shoulders with an expression of heartbreaking concern. "Nii-san, I didn't do what you said. I forgot to use my memories to judge the situation, and I really gave some people the wrong idea." Alphonse looked defeated. "What have I done?" he asked softly. "How bad did I mess things up?"

"It's okay, it was an accident," Ed whispered, flesh hand moving quickly to his face for some quick rubbing. "I know this wasn't your fault." Hawkeye stepped back into the bathroom when the heel of Ed's palm began swiping discretely over his eyes. "We'll clear it up, and forget all about it." Ed didn't sound as if he thought this was true. "I just got scared thinking maybe you were," he paused, and sniffled, "confused or, about something or, thought maybe…"

Alphonse twisted his expression with mock disgust. "Please," he said, "if I came back that stupid, we'd be in real trouble."

Ed managed a weak laugh, and cleared his sinuses. "So, ah," he said, giving a fast glance around. "So where's the Lieutenant? She's still here with you, right? You're not alone, right? How are you doing?"

"Yes, she's here. She's getting me a warm cloth for my head. I'm cold." Ed pressed his hand to Alphonse's forehead with unease. "I felt sick and dizzy this morning, and I've been really cold"

"What's your temperature?"

"Ninety-six."

"How long?" Ed's tone went dry with seriousness, and Alphonse hesitated. Ed pressed his hand to Alphonse's cheek before holding the boy's wrist and taking his pulse. "How's everything else? I've been stuck at Command and fearing the worst."

"It's not too bad really. I'm having nose bleeds, but the blood is minimal, and I'm clotting well. I've been vomiting, but it seems connected to whatever is making me sick. I lost it last night without you. I became too cold."

Ed closed his eyes tightly. "We should have crafted something to generate heat for you. A light source, or a fire, we missed that."

Alphonse seemed tired, and overall discouraged with all the things they missed. There was always something missed. "I went and slept with Hawkeye to keep warm."

Ed looked up with surprise. "You slept with her, with her?"

"In her sleeping bag." Alphonse nodded. "But I've been like this all morning so it must have taken a tighter grip on me than I thought."

"Okay," Ed said, scooting forward and gently grasping Alphonse's face. "Let me look at you for a second." Hawkeye watched Ed pull the skin down below both of Alphonse's eyes and look into his mouth and throat. "What did the hospital say?"

"Nothing. They jumped my fluids, but the bleeding stopped naturally. They didn't report anything seriously wrong to me, but they weren't very…amiable about it all. Honestly, I feel more like a criminal than the victim I'm being told I am. I'm completely in the dark."

Ed was silent, and memory of Mustang's angry and confused expression at Central's Police Station came strong. "Yeah," Ed said softly, skirting the topic. "Well your throat looks irritated so that explains your voice. Think it's from the stomach bile?" Alphonse nodded. "You ate only approved stuff, right?" Ed sounded nervous, but Alphonse was nodding immediately. "Were you really careful? Hawkeye might not have known about something. Did you watch her? Did she use a different cooking oil? Or a seasoning, or a new food item?"

"No," Alphonse said, and Hawkeye was proud of the confidence in his voice. "She's been great, Nii-san. She's being very careful."

"Okay," Ed said, getting to his feet. "Let's get you in the tub. We'll correct your temperature with a bath, and then your body will stop exerting unnecessary energy to manage it. Also, we can put some mint in a bit of water for you to sip to help your mouth and throat, are you drinking enough?"

"Yeah, I'm drinking exactly as I'm supposed to." Alphonse stood up slowly with a hand on his stomach looking ill.

"How is your urine, not too dark?"

"Light," Alphonse said, sounding comfortable and happy. "And everything else is okay too, Nii-san."

Ed was on autopilot, heading to the bathroom with Alphonse in hand, before stalling when his gaze met Hawkeye, and he found her there, holding a damp rag.

It was an awkward introduction, and Hawkeye felt it too.

"Hello, Ed." She managed a kind smile. "Don't let me get in the way."

Ed looked painfully uncomfortable. Something as private as his personal space, was now open for tour. Unfairly, Hawkeye's presence represented the entire outside world. A sense of ubiquitous authority imposing in Ed's totalitarian state, and a rush of hot anger shot through his system so fiercely, his brow jumped, as the emotion went into his face.

He was pissed. He was livid! How dare these mother fuckers. How dare these presumptuous pricks! In their diluted attempt to make Alphonse safe, they were putting him in danger, and it was hard. Hard to wring the neck of a faceless accuser, hard to beat the asses of the anonymous lineup dragging him through the mud with these disgusting allegations, and coining him this perverse incestuous pedophile! Hard to internalize it. To handle it. To face them.

Struggling against his own anger, Ed's throat choked a gruff disagreeable sound, while his mind scolded him, because he wasn't anger at her. No, not at her. She was just the face in front of him. One of the few people he'd seen since they released him from his cell. Just the messenger. The compassionate, practically non-judgmental messenger standing in for the prying eye Ed understood to be: The Military, Amestris Social Services, and Amestris's Criminal Justice system. It was like stocking her frame with undesirable stuffing, and Ed's stomach was full with a wrath he wanted to unleash on these lucrative parties, and all that was locking it down was a delicate flap of self-restraint. It was all or nothing. He could not open the hatch and get a handful, if he opened the hatch there would be a flood.

Ed swallowed thickly, and managed a quick, "Hi, Lieutenant." Slapping a figurative hand down on the flap, and collecting his barring. Hawkeye looked mildly concerned with his bout of silence, but she was giving him time. She was god damn helping even now! "Thanks, and thanks for…you know..." Ed forced the quick degraded shrug of the humiliated party. What the hell was he supposed to say to her? What etiquette was there for this? Etiquette wasn't exactly his strong suit, but this was fucking pathetic. Brought a sense of incriminating shame, as if he were the guilty party, as if he should be incarcerated, and of the three of them he was the one who didn't belong, and this hit like an eviction, and Ed flinched.

Dropped his gaze to his feet and tried to muster something beyond his miserable gratitude and couldn't. "If you could…" he said softly. The next best plan was to get rid of her. "Just give us a second to…"But was she allowed to leave? Was he allowed to be alone with Alphonse? A rush of concern stormed Ed with the realization he was excusing her to help Alphonse into a bath. Oh, fuck. Was he shoveling his hole deeper? Did he sound like the freak they were telling him he was! Was she going to wonder! Wonder why the hell he was following Alphonse into the bathroom so he could help him undress, and was she going to suspect he actually craved to do this, the way he was actually craving to do it!

Not for the reasons they listed, but because it made him well, in a way he couldn't express he was ill, to see Alphonse safe. To confirm with his own eyes that pieces weren't falling off, and nothing was dying, because in a way, it always felt like Alphonse was dying, because it seemed too good to be true he was still alive.

For Hawkeye, Ed's discomfort was painfully visible, as if he'd been hit with mud and the ignominy was crusted to his face. Until this was over, there was nothing that could take it away. Nothing that could be said to help. With only one thing important to Ed, he was waiting for what he needed, and wanted, to come clean, and Hawkeye exited the bathroom quickly.

Ed looked ill with her presence. Unsure how to gracefully handle her, and unintentionally hanging so tight to Alphonse's hand, Alphonse was concerned with the pressure, but remained mutely supportive.

"Please, don't let me bother you," Hawkeye said, glancing between both pairs of golden eyes as she breezed past. "I'll stay out of your way. I'm just going to wash up yesterday's dinner dishes, and clean my pistol." She left for the kitchen, and called back a friendly, "And I don't want to hear any gender jokes for doing so."

Alphonse didn't recognize the male soldiers' desire to tease their female counterparts about their domestic tasks, and the reference sailed over his head, but Hawkeye's good-natured return to normality hit Ed's fire like a bucket of cold water and left him stunned.

Ed left, swallowing quickly, and feeling sabotaged by his own mind for becoming angry, confusing her for the enemy, and doubting her loyalty. She was more than one of Mustang's team, she was one of his team, because he was Mustang's team, and they didn't turn on each other. She didn't think ill of him, and he didn't need to be embarrassed in front of her. He felt blindsided by his own degrading thoughts and Mustang's voice flittered through Ed's mind. Alphonse trusts her, and so do we.

Then she mentioned the dishes.

Ed was half way through the bathroom entrance, when he stalled, instantly opposed, and called a quick, "You don't," fumbled unsure of how to correct this, and landed with, "You don't have to trouble yourself, Hawkeye," because female soldiers were at the butt of ever domestic gag their way. No matter the skill or the rank, set her near a kitchen, and the jokes started rolling. "Just leave them there. I'll get to them." Accepting her domestic assistance felt uncomfortably like taking advantage of her, and they weren't raised to stuff women into weak female stereotypes. Sensei had seen to that.

Hawkeye went to the sink and turned on the water teasing a dry, "I'm just as good at washing dishes as I'm at breaking faces."

It ended things. Ed had no response. He looked overly nonplussed, in more than one way, abandoned the exchange, and took Alphonse into the bathroom.

Against the tiles, his optimistic and excited chatter echoed as if he were still in the armor, and it brought a smile to Hawkeye's face. Returned the memories of the boys when they were younger, and Ed's work would separate him from Alphonse for long hours, so their reunion was something of a celebration for them. Christened first with the uninvited arrival of Alphonse in Mustang's office, before his reintroduction to Ed who was often tired, dirty, or returning from long travel, and recharged onsite of the boy's presence.

Angrily, Roy used to refer to these events as, "god damn tea parties." The unexpected and misplaced noise of the brothers breaking into secluded conversation in the middle of a crowded room that seemed to no longer exist. As narrow-minded children, they weren't aware of their disruption, and so eager to see one another, were simply completing a step that felt comfortable to them, but Roy could only tolerate this if they were in route for the door. As this was not always the case, Hawkeye had many cherished memories of Roy shuffling through papers, and speaking to himself in a raised tone he was certain would be heard by everyone, and complaining, "This is a military office, not a god damn tea parlor."

On the few occasions the boys were too engrossed to take this hint, it was commonly followed by Roy slamming down his pen, pointing to the door, and ordering, "Elric! Take your tea party somewhere else, there are people working here."

In the bathroom the tub was running, and the sound of items being moved about in preparation for a bath was domestically familiar. The boys sounded peaceful. Audible talking to one another, before Ed left twice to visit the bedroom for clothing and supplies. He was constantly questioning, and reassuring, questioning, and reassuring, while Alphonse responded, sounding ill and congested.

The mood changed suddenly, with them both behind the bathroom door. The cheery atmosphere disappeared, and Alphonse began loud objecting Ed was talking over. Like a parent to a small child, Ed's tone was instructional, but affectionately commanding. Alphonse was frenetic, and Hawkeye quickly stopped the dish water to listen.

Her first instinct was to aid, but with Ed home, she had to believe he could handle it. It wasn't her place to intervene, and she was sensitive not to overstep him because doing so meant disrespecting him in a way she was certain he would not soon forget, and not readily forgive.

The moment before Hawkeye breached uncomfortable territory and approached the ajar bathroom door to hover outside it, was the moment she vowed to leave the sound of Alphonse in such great dress to Ed.

"Alphonse, Alphonse, listen to me." Inside the bathroom, Ed was speaking quickly. Tone urgent, and voice stern and dominating within an entrapped tiled space. "Alphonse, look at me, it's not too hot. Alphonse? It's not too hot. You are cold."

Alphonse was panicking. "I can't feel some of me!" Sounded erratic and defensive. "It's going to freeze and die!"

Ed attacked these concerns. "That's absolutely impossible."

"I can't feel my toes, and my fingers are tingling! You're scalding my new body!"

"I'm not scalding anything." Ed's response was quick and sharp. Tone wobbling between concerned reassurance, and commonplace frustration. "Nothing is freezing off, and nothing is being cooked, got that? Nothing. Now look at me, it's just feeling hot, it's not really that hot in actuality! Here, hold this." There was a pause of silence, and then Alphonse was whining again. "Hold it steady, we'll study the water together."

"Nii-san, I want to get out!"

"Okay, but you have to stay in." There was a brief splash. The forward motion of a body submerged in water, meeting restraint. "Alphonse, you have to stay in."

"Then you get in!"

"No!" Ed sounded alarmed. "I can't. We can't, understand? Alphonse, look me in the eye, look at me."

Hawkeye curled her hand to a fist, and set her knuckles against the door, prepared to knock, but it slid inward the softest centimeter, and she halted. Slid her fingers into the crack in which it had not been closed, and opened it the few inches necessary to see inside, and check on them.

Alphonse was sitting in the filled tub. His hungry body just skin and bones about the peppered bruises. They were varying dark blotches, blue patches, and yellow smears from dissimilar pressures and surfaces. He was shaking with discomfort, expression mangled with distress, and kneeling at the tub side, Ed was stripped of his jacket with both elbows propped on the porcelain, and the metal hand a peace sign directing Alphonse's gaze to his own.

"Alphonse." Ed was speaking softly. "We've got to get better at being normal or we're going to be in big trouble." The tone was serious. "People don't understand what we're doing."

"Nii-san, this isn't right." Alphonse's expression was twisted with agony. "This doesn't make scientific sense. Something must be wrong with me!" Alphonse was hugging his torso with his arms and rattling as if the core of his body were an ill working motor struggling to function. "I just want this fixed, Nii-san. I don't care about being normal! I just want to be better!"

Ed tipped his head forward with exhausted defeat, and it hung from his neck like a string. Releasing a slow, steadying breath, he looked up, and whispered, "Okay." Gave Alphonse a few reassuring nods and a smile. "Okay."

"Thanks," Alphonse whined.

"Lay back, let's get you all the way in."

"I'm not cold blooded! This isn't going to work!"

"It is one hundred percent going to work." Ed helped Alphonse back until there was nothing above the surface save Alphonse's pale and scrawny face, and Ed had both hands in the water, keeping a tight protecting grasp. "You're going to go back to ninety-nine degrees, Alphonse. Say it with me."

Alphonse whined miserably. "Ninety-nine." Broke into quick breaths of worried endurance, and opened a new topic. "What if Hawkeye has to stay here a long time?" Fisted in his body hand was a half-submerged thermometer, and he pawed uncomfortably at the slender stick. "I might need you and you won't be here. You won't be here when I need you."

Ed looked slapped, but forced a quick recovery. Choked a breath, and in a playful tone, managed a teasing, "Oh, come on." Smiled. "Hawkeye is like," Ed lifted a palm from the water and slid it through the air to symbolize perfect skill, "super qualified, she's a master." Alphonse watched this action, looking weary and unconvinced. "In fact I was thinking about taking a holiday and locking her in here. I could take my sweet ass time journeying to Xing and have Ling put me up like royalty."

Alphonse was not reassured with the humor. "What do I do if something private happens to me? Do I get her help? What if more blood appears, or if I keep not being able to focus in the mornings or if I…need…help doing things."

Ed was thoughtfully silent. He gave the top of Alphonse's bath a small absent flick with his metal fingers before meeting Alphonse's troubled gaze with one of kindness.

"Do you feel comfortable with her?"

"I don't want to get her arrested too!" Alphonse was horrified. "Look what I did to you by accident!"

"First off," Ed said firmly. "Mustang would never let that happen. Just think about it. All alone in that office to sleep, he'd be fired." Ed gave a playful shrug, forcing humor weak enough to shake, but strong enough to stand without prodding. "He'd probably march right down here and get her, and if he does, you can show him."

"Is that what you want me to do?" Alphonse asked softly, looking mildly comforted with Ed's jesting. "Should I call the Colonel?"

"I want you to do…" Ed trailed softly, again trapped in a world where he had to make decisions quickly, stand by them, enable them, and was making things up as he went. "…what you feel comfortable doing. If you feel you need help, you go get it, from whoever that is. Call anyone. Call Granny, Sensei, Hawkeye, my bastard Colonel, anyone, just make sure you get yourself help."

"I didn't think about calling Granny," Alphonse said absently, turning his gaze up to the ceiling. His shaking had all but subsided, and the bath water was correcting his temperature with scientific accuracy. "Granny could probably really help."

"You know she's seen my ass tons of times." With Alphonse stable, Ed slowly released his hold and sat back against the wall, exhausted. "So you bleeding would be, old boring news."

Alphonse smiled and looked to Ed with appreciation. "Nii-san?" Ed lifted tired eyebrows. "I picked up all the underwear you had on the floor before Hawkeye could see them." Alphonse was proud, and Ed broke a wide grin and began a soft slow chuckle.

"Always looking out for me."

"But if you don't start using the hamper I am just going to transmute it into something more useful." Alphonse's tone was tolerantly chastising and Ed's grin widened.

"And so creatively resourceful." Ed pushed himself up and stretched. "Okay, now sit tight. I am going to go make something to keep you warm at night."

Hawkeye stepped away from the door, and returned to the kitchen. Ed exited the bathroom and gave her a weary smile in route to the bedroom. She followed, and lingered in the doorway watching him.

Ed went to the foot of Alphonse's bed and considered it with his hands on his hips and his mind solving invisible puzzles.

"Ed, I'm sorry things have been so hectic." What could you really say, and she felt guilt. Had just been the bystander ready to barge into the bathroom after she told herself she wouldn't, and that he could handle it. Had just witnessed him handling it.

Ed looked over. There was no backup guardian for Alphonse, and given Alphonse's complications, Ed was impressed Hawkeye was brave enough to try after the first blunder. The fact that her involvement had helped lead to his bleeding, hospitalization, and ultimately the situation they were all in, weighed heavy on her mind, and Ed could see it, but hospitalizing Alphonse was still a bit better than sealing his body in that gate to rot.

"I wish I could be of more help," Hawkeye said.

Ed lifted his eyebrows with surprise. "Really." He knelt down and clapped a transmutation into the metal waste paper basket alongside Alphonse's night stand. It reformed as a circular pot set on raised legs with a front grated window. It looked like a small travel coal fireplace. "I think you're doing enough to get an A in my book."

Ed passed Hawkeye in route to the kitchen without a glance. He went directly to the oven and opened it so he could stick his head in. Watching him with confusion, Hawkeye kept silent. He was examining the four top burners.

"I can't stay too long," Ed said, head in the oven, and voice echoing. "So I want to just, make sure he has stuff he needs." Ed uprooted and clapped the top of the stove. Several pieces inside let loose and dropped into the racks. "This will make it easier for you." Ed grabbed the pieces and carried them back to the bedroom. "And order some food on me while you're here!" He called. "We weren't really expecting guests!"

In the bedroom Ed knelt down and transmuted his new items into a safe Bunsen burner below the metal pot. It would heat water or air, and when Hawkeye approached the bedroom door he looked up and flashed her a smile. "This should help him stay warm. I am, ah…sorry, about last night." Ed blushed faintly. "I don't mean to keep putting you in these odd situations."

"It wasn't odd."

Ed stood and dusted his hands on the back of his pants. "Okay, I am going to go work on my automail for a bit, then I should go."

"Do you want something to eat while you're here? I plan to order in all sorts of expensive food."

Ed passed Hawkeye grinning. "That would be amazing."

Alphonse climbed from the tub himself, and toweled off with Ed at the bathroom sink, flesh hand in a glove, doing maintenance on his metal arm. Alphonse felt much better with his temperature stable, and his voice abandoned the raspy sound of abused sinuses for something healthy. Dressed in large sweat pants and a long sleeve shirt, he returned to the couch, and curled up with a pillow waiting.

Ed worked on his leg once the arm was completed, and left the bathroom limping. This brought a mocking younger-sibling laugh from Alphonse, and he sung, "You've been slacking off, Nii-san." Ed responded with a miserable grunt. "You know what happens when you're lazy and ignore your maintenance."

Ed was standing and flexing his metal knee through a mild wince. "It's amazing how my own family litters my agenda with burdensome legal concerns when all I want is to devote my time to my automail." Ed hobbled his way to the couch trailing the smell of fresh oil. Alphonse was already snuggled down, but Ed took to tucking the blanket about him just the same. "Stay bundled up so you keep your temperature for a few hours. Don't make your body work for it."

"Can you stay?"

"I should really go."

Alphonse reached forward and snatched the front of Ed's shirt in protest, before requesting, "Lie with me."

Ed paused, considering. He was on a time limit, Roy had made that clear. Breda had shown up carrying a stack of papers, energy drink, and the key to the holding cell, and said, "Hey Bro, the Colonel's letting you out." Wearing a wide grin, he'd belched, and unlocked the door adding, "One hour," and Ed knew Roy was serious about the timeframe, so didn't want to spend it idle, but still…there was something incredibly appealing about lying on the couch.

"Just for five minutes?" An innocently scheming smile spread across Alphonse's face, and Ed surrendered.

"Okay, scoot over." Ed slid on next to Alphonse and covered them. Once comfortable he sighed a loud, exaggerated, "Ah," and Alphonse laughed.

Hawkeye kept her comments to herself. She finished the dishes, made Ed a sandwich, and expected Alphonse to be sleeping because he drifted off randomly while resting, and was surprised, when she carried the sandwich over, to find Ed asleep as well. Not just lightly, but deeply, and peacefully, so she returned it to the refrigerator, and when Roy called, hot Ed had not yet returned, she refused to wake him.

"What do you mean he's napping?" Roy asked, angrily.

"He's sleeping on the couch, and looks like he really needs it."

"He's been stuck in a cell with only a cot! I'm sure he's been sleeping a lot lately!" Roy had no tolerance for this deviation. "Now tell him to get his metal ass back here!"

Hawkeye was frowning. "Why don't you tell Havoc to go sit in the cell with his back to the door. No one will even notice." This plan was so flawed Roy sputtered a noise of shocked frustration. "Sir, you know how I used to tease you I'd get that little Zen garden for your desk?"

Roy slammed his fist down. "So when I'm stressed I can sit here and rake!"

"Yes." That was exactly why. "Ed is raking right now," she said, "and I am not going to stop him."

Thank you, all! Please review for me!

Chapter 7: Outside the Scope of Practice, will be posted 02/17/17.

This chapter will include my augmented posting schedule for March as I'll be traveling to South East Asia and will have limited connectivity. I'll try to leave with cliff hanger (just kidding!).