Roy's stomach emptied violently, heaving again and again. The cold tile froze his skin, but he didn't notice. He pulled the chain to flush the mess away and settled his forehead against the seat.
The only other time he had made love with a man had been five years ago. That time had brought nothing but misery to him, and the darkness of the bedroom with a silhouette hovering over him felt all too familiar. He felt similar to a rape victim, small and worn, unable to feel comfortable in his own skin. Edward's golden eyes burned into him from the shadows, his fingers dragging nastily along Roy's naked flesh. The fact that he had asked—begged—for Ed's touch made him feel all the more ashamed. Ed had used him, but Roy had done the same. There was no pardon for his responsibility of the situation back then. And now the past, those eyes, those hands, came back to haunt him from the corners of his mind.
The hushed sound of feet brushing the floor nearly made his heart stop. No. No, he can't see me like this!
A fully-clothed Dr. Kendrick materialized in the doorway, his features cast in darkness. Mustang parted his lips, wanting to speak. A ragged inhale was all he was capable of accomplishing. Gene stepped into the room and draped a blanket over Roy's bared frame. The heavy material seemed to ground him a little, pulling him out of his trance.
He rose to his knees, reaching for the doctor. "Gene… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His voice cracked pathetically.
Roy's arms wrapped around the man's middle, burying his face in his shirt. Gene's hand lifted to rest on the back of the raven head, his other hand gripping Mustang's neck. "It is quite alright, Roy. I understand."
The following morning Mustang awoke alone in Gene's bed. Chills ran up his spine when he discovered he was still naked from the night before, which quickly served as a reminder of the night before. A tree branch waved in the breeze, its profile dancing in and out sight at the window. The sun and gentle sway of the tree had a strangely calming effect on his nerves.
He sat, contemplating his next move. After a few moments he realized that he had known all along what he needed and wanted to do: forget Edward Elric. Forgetting him won't be an easy task, of that Roy was certain. But there was no other option. Edward wasn't coming back, and even if he were… What would he do? Another fist fight was most probable, and that would be about as much affection as the two of them could offer. No, there was nothing left between him and Edward. It was time for Mustang to not just suppress memories but come to terms with them and move on. Dr. Kendrick—Gene—is an open-armed invitation to a happiness that Roy finally realized that he deserved.
Happy, Mustang swung his legs over the side of the bed and placed his feet on the floor. He pulled on his pants but his shirt could not be found. Mustang settled for one of Dr. Kendrick's heavy woolen shirts from a drawer and threw it over his head.
Although he was happy, he sat on the bed for a moment as a thought occurred to him. He has been quite the emotional wreck, making him a fairly unattractive partner. In the past he had always had control of his feelings. The old Roy would have never let so many people see how he felt. While he didn't want to lie to Dr. Kendrick, he knew he needed to be stronger if he wanted the doctor to rely on him. From now on, I'll be the strong Roy Mustang I've always been. No more sniveling.
With new resolve, Roy stood and marched to the door. He pushed the door open and walked out, realizing too late that a patient was perched on the examining table. The man was a stranger wearing a shabby brown coat and looked to have not shaved for several days.
"Oh, Mr. Mustang. I see you are awake." Dr. Kendrick nodded to him and turned his attention back to the patient. Even though he sounded very casual, there was something in his demeanor that hinted at something ominous. His gaze flickered to Gene's gloved hands. Dr. Kendrick almost never wears gloves.
"Awake? I thought this was your house, Doc," the man questioned. "Why's a man sleeping in your room?"
"I-" Mustang started.
"My assistant was not feeling well, and at times I keep my patients in my home to better monitor them." Gene lied so smoothly that Roy almost could not believe it.
The stranger still appeared suspicious but less so. "Oh. So you're one of those serious types."
Gene smiled. "Yes, I suppose you could say that." His fingers deftly massaged the man's throat, probing for signs of swelling.
"I guess I should be glad I stopped in this town, then. I've got business to attend to, but this sore throat's getting worse. I can hardly swallow anything now."
"Dr. Kendrick will be able to help you, I'm certain." Roy said, stepping closer. It was then that Roy saw it; there was a rash amongst the whiskers on the man's face. Pimple-like.
Gene kept his face unreadable. While the doctor is not easily shaken, he does not usually put on a mask for his patients. That was Mustang's job. "Is a sore throat the entirety of your complaints?"
"Well, if I have to complain, I'd say that I get tired quickly. And I get fevers sometimes. I kinda figured I had the flu."
"Yes, you do have a fever now." Kendrick conceded quietly. "If you could open your mouth for me, please." The doctor placed his fingers gently on the man's jaw, guiding it open. As the man tilted his head back and obeyed, Gene froze.
Despite the moment of apprehension, Kendrick was calm. "Mr. Jennings, I'm going to give you some medication to ease the fever and pain. I'll escort you over to the cabin next door for you to rest."
"Rest?! Doc, I just want a quick-fix. I have places I gotta be!" The man exclaimed.
Mustang was tense. Something is obviously wrong. Very wrong.
"I'm afraid that isn't possible. Your symptoms of swollen lymph nodes, fever, fatigue, and the rash spreading from your mouth to the rest of your skin indicate variola—or rather smallpox."
Smallpox? Oh, no… Mustang immediately thought of the gloves on Gene's hands.
"Smallpox? Doesn't that kill people?!" Mr. Jennings began to panic.
Roy interjected, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "Please stay calm. Dr. Kendrick is an excellent physician. We will help you."
The man nodded, somewhat stilled by Mustang's willingness to come into contact with him. "Doctor, please get the medication. I will give it to him."
Dr. Kendrick moved swiftly to the medicine cabinet, returning with the proper dosage in a small paper cup. He had removed his gloves in order to handle the bottles. Placing the cup next to Mr. Jennings, he turned away and allowed to Roy to manage the patient.
"Please, take these. I'll get you settled into the cabin." Roy did his best to be gentle with the man. Giving orders in high tension situations was typically something he did only in the military. Barking at him would do nothing but stress the man further.
For fear of contaminating the room even more, Roy declined to grab his coat off the hanger. Dr. Kendrick opened the door for them as they moved to go outside. It was quick work moving Jennings into the cabin and into bed. As soon as he was back outside, Mustang's expression grew grim. This has clearly shaken the doctor.
Gene opened the door, his face a stone. "Wash your hands, please." Roy did so immediately. When he turned to face the doctor, Kendrick's features were still unmoving. His lips barely moved as he spoke. "You refrained from touching your face after you touched him?"
"Yes, I was careful."
Kendrick's face and posture nearly collapsed with relief. "When you laid your hand on him… My heart nearly stopped. It was all I could do to keep from pulling you away."
Roy was shocked. The doctor never spoke so helplessly. "I couldn't allow him to panic. We would have lost control of the quarantine."
"I understand. Regardless, I could not bear to see you place yourself in harm's way. I was petrified." Gene's face only hinted at the anguish his words illustrated.
These words tore at Roy's heart, driving him to put his arms around the older man. Kendrick was shaking noticeably. A new fear struck Roy to his core. Nothing scares his good friend in such a way.
"Tell me, what is your plan? Are you going to cure him through alchemy?"
Gene shook his head. "I will try medicinal methods first. Mr. Jennings is not far enough along in the virus to be at death's door. But of course, if that fails, I shall perform my alchemy."
Mustang peered into gray eyes. "Tell me what we're dealing with here."
The doctor took a seat while Roy remained standing. "I am certain that Jennings is infected with smallpox. I have never seen it personally, but I have heard of its terrors. The rash on his face is a definite indication, along with the other symptoms I listed previously. It is highly contagious, airborne and through contact to the mouth, eyes, and nose. Mortality rate is approximately 30%."
"We're looking at the threat of an epidemic." Roy stated. Strangely, he felt steady in the face of this threat. Having lives on the line was a familiar position for him to be in. Fear was giving way to determination.
Gene seemed to sense this shift in Roy's attitude. "Smallpox is not a disease to be trifled with. We must treat this with great care. And there is no way to ascertain where the virus originated or how far it has spread. Mr. Jennings has been travelling for about two weeks. He could have contaminated countless people along his journey."
"I am at your service, doctor. We will deal with this."
"For now, we need to control the patient's temperature and rest him. Clean him to prevent infection of the blisters. Unfortunately, this is all we can do. There is no cure, and it will take days to obtain a vaccine. By then it will do him little good. Allow me to make a phone call. I will order the vaccine as a precaution. I do not believe he will be the last patient that comes to us."
"I can go, Gene. It will be faster that way."
Kendrick paused, the phone raised to his ear. "My dear Roy, we may well be contaminated ourselves."
A wave of fear washed over him. Not for himself, but for Gene. The thought of watching his love succumb to such a treacherous disease nearly paralyzed him. Mustang grit his teeth in determination. He will fight his way through this battle, just like all of the others.
"We shall be quarantined as well until the threat passes."
Mustang gave a curt nod. It was almost a reflex for him to salute, which he suppressed. "Understood."
Later that day Dr. Kendrick went to visit Jennings to administer more medication. When he returned he was visibly troubled.
Urgency thickened Roy's voice. "What's wrong?"
"The rash has already spread significantly. The fever, however, I am managing to control. I fear for him. Tomorrow I will perform the alchemic treatment."
"You need to rest, then. I'll watch him tonight."
Gene appeared to not favor the notion, but he knew he had little choice in the matter. "Thank you. Make sure to wear a mask and gloves, and try to maintain some distance from him."
"I understand." He turned to retrieve the protective gear. Finding them, he put them on carefully.
"Roy."
The darker man turned expectantly.
Those memorable gray eyes held pain in their depths. "Please be careful."
