A/N: Sooooooooo, um, yeah, super duper incredibly immensely indelibly sorry for the long wait. As I previously stated I was trying to finish three stories on a deadline (which was an epic fail btw, and not my fault either cuz they kept coming up with new crap to add in or making changes so I had to do rewrites cuz they got sucked into the fanfiction void and never re-emerged). I'll still post those stories when they're done, but I'm no longer on a deadline so it's whenever. Sorry, too, that this chapter is a bit shorter than previous chapters, but it felt like such a natural stopping point. Plus, I really wanted to get something posted so you guys wouldn't think I'd forgotten about you. So, we have a fun twist this go round, and tbh I've been planning on throwing this wrench in the works since the start of this story (I feel a bit villainy for it, but whatevs). fyi there's minimal hand-waviness going on with the medical crap, cuz those possible side effects are real as is the other drug info, but I fudged a very tiny portion of it for plot purposes. Also, some of the finer points of criminal justice process were sacrificed on the altar of Creative Process to be devoured by the rabid plot bunny that lives within. 'Kay, nuff of my rambling, enjoy the chapter! XD
Chapter 9
Unexpected Intermission
Roy decided that hospital waiting rooms were specifically designed to discourage all but the most desperate from going to the hospital. The chairs were uncomfortable, the temperature was too hot right up until automatic double-doors opened to inundate them with frigid air from outside, the coffee was worse than the sludge served in the lab, and the staff who were all smile-to-your-face-as-we-tell-you-politely-to-fuck-off could be classified as vaguely creepy – like the Stepford Wives version of prison wardens. Where was the sympathy? Where was the kindness? Where was the polite service? Apparently not at the sort of hospital Ed could afford. Roy was within inches of having him moved to a better hospital on Roy's dime, Ed's pride be damned.
Al tried to keep him calm, but he was just as anxious for news as Roy. It only got worse as the waiting room slowly filled with those in dire need of news about Ed's condition. Hohenheim and Grand were the first to arrive, Grand having found a sub for both Ed and Hohenheim's classes before driving Hohenheim there himself. Grumman was the next to arrive, soon followed by Winry, Heymans, Kain, Jean, and Maes who all arrived in Al's van driven by Winry. Nobody was dumb enough to ask her how she had started the van without the keys. It was unimportant in the grander scheme of things anyway.
"Family of Edward Elric," someone finally called. Whether it had actually been hours of waiting or simply felt like it had been, Roy didn't know, he just knew that he was just as relieved as he was nervous to finally be getting some news. Everybody stood up to greet the man in the white coat who looked at the crowd of people with disbelief. "Are all of you the family of Edward Elric?"
"Yes and no," said Hohenheim smoothly. "Alphonse and I are his blood-related family, and Roy is his partner, but the rest are just as much family as the three of us. As Edward's father, I will vouch for them. Edward would want them to know."
"Very well," said the tired-looking man with a heavy sigh of defeat. "My name is Dr. Knox. I'm the attending physician in charge of Mr. Elric's care. Mr. Elric has been dosed with flunitrazepam, also known as Rohypnol. What he ingested would normally be considered a low dose, I presume because he didn't ingest the entire intended dose – no doubt the taste tipped him off. Had the drug been mixed into something with a more acidic or otherwise overwhelming flavor he may not have been so lucky. The person who laced his coffee with the drug was clearly unaware of his special circumstances."
"The missing limbs," said Al faintly as he tipped back until his father caught him. "He's missing a third of his blood volume and body mass owing to the missing limbs, and on top of that he's undersized. Even a child's dose can sometimes be too much for him. That's why he never takes medicine or drinks alcohol. He says it's too risky."
"And that's precisely the problem we've encountered," said the doctor with a grimace. "As I said, what he ingested would normally be a low dose, but given the unique issues of his particular physiology, he metabolized quite a bit more than would be considered safe. Even having purged most of his stomach contents, he had already metabolized the drug by that point. With Rohypnol, by the time you feel the effects it's already too late for normal countermeasures. The effects don't begin to appear for 15-20 minutes after administering the drug."
"But how is he?" asked Roy, his anxiety having grown exponentially throughout the doctor's little speech.
"We have him stabilized, and he's resting for now," answered the doctor, and there was a collective sigh of relief. "We'd prefer to keep him here under observation until we can be sure that he's no longer under the influence of the drug. The effects last between 4-6 hours, but can have residual effects up to 12 hours after administration."
"Wait you said 'for now'," interjected Al, eyes narrowing. "You said you have him stabilized for now. What went wrong?"
"As I said, given the unique characteristics of Mr. Elric's physiology, the dose he metabolized was very high. He exhibited the respiratory depression common to victims of an overdose," explained the doctor, and just like that the relief of a moment before had been banished. "We were lucky in that we caught it before he could slip into a coma. We're treated him with a benzodiazepine receptor antagonist and were able to counter the drug, but for the rest there is no choice but to monitor him and let the remainder of the drug run its course. We're confident he won't have any more breathing problems, but we have him on oxygen just to be safe."
"When can we see him?" asked Al.
"Well, he should hopefully wake up in the next hour, maybe three hours at the most. I would prefer not have more than two people visiting him at a time, though it would likely be best to have someone with him until he wakes so that he has a familiar face to wake up to. I read in his records that he has a tendency to become combative when he wakes up in a hospital."
"That's one way to put it," muttered Al. "Roy, why don't you go sit with him. I want to go coordinate with Murry and Roach to see if they've found anything. They're supposed to be canvassing the campus to see if anybody saw how the drug found its way into Ed's coffee."
"And I left instructions with my secretary to give them any access they may need, including a copy of the security footage for the lecture hall," added Grand. "It's probably best if I return to the campus as well."
"Dad, will you be joining us?" asked Al.
"It would probably be best," said Hohenheim with a soft sigh. "I can, at the very least, help to cover Edward's classes and explain things to his professors so this incident doesn't affect his grades."
"We should head back too. Ed's not going to be up for visitors for a while anyway," said Winry, leaning against Al's shoulder, the two of giving and receiving comfort.
"I'll send out a group text the minute he wakes up," Roy told them.
"Thanks, Roy," said Al with a tired but warm smile. "Do you need anything? I wouldn't mind grabbing you some real coffee or a bite to eat or something."
"Would you mind grabbing my backpack out of my car?" requested Roy. "I can get some studying in while I wait. And some real coffee would be seriously fantastic right about now. This crap could dissolve the lab coffee and probably the cup it came in."
As soon as Roy had his homework and blessedly non-toxic coffee, he made his way to Ed's room. When he reached the room, however, he could only stand in the doorway, the breath freezing in his lungs as he stared at Ed whose normally gold-tinted skin was nearly as pale as the white sheets he lay on. Roy knew, logically, that Ed was only sleeping, but he couldn't keep away the unwanted thought that Ed looked more like he was dead than in repose. It made tears sting his eyes to even imagine it. The thought propelled him across the room so that he could touch Ed, hear the sound of his breathing, feel the warmth of his skin, assure himself that his lover was very much alive. He took up Ed's hand and put it to his lips, and stood there for a long moment simply breathing in Ed's scent and feeling Ed's slow pulse against his fingertips.
Once he'd finally eased his fear, Roy dropped his backpack against the wall and dragged the room's only chair up to the bed. He settled himself in for the long wait, spending the time reviewing his class notes and the study guides Ed had made for him. Ed had a way of simplifying the material that made studying for tests infinitely easier, so Roy was eternally grateful for his lover's excellent teaching skills. Roy was certain that if he actually aced his finals this time around, it would be entirely thanks to Ed's incomparable assistance. There were certainly perks to having a genius for a lover.
Even as he focused on his studies, Roy's gaze was inexorably drawn to Ed's silent form over and over again. He hated seeing Ed like this, so silent, so still. He seemed smaller somehow, diminished by his unnatural sleep. Usually, Ed was always moving, always making noise of some sort. He was so vibrant and larger than life that it was easy to forget that, more often than not, he was the shortest man in the room. His confidence and never-say-die attitude gave an impression of impossible height and breadth, while his sharp mind, indomitable compassion, and ready wit gave an impression of impossible to plum depths. Ed was contrary and kind and so bright, but now . . . he had become something small and vulnerable and in need of protection, and Roy wasn't sure how to go about keeping him safe.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he was suddenly dragged out of his dark musing by a soft knock on the door. Detective Roach entered the room cautiously, his gaze snagged by Edward and seemingly unable to pull away. Roy cleared his throat, startling Roach and drawing his attention. "He's still out," Roy told him, not sure why he was whispering, but for some reason unwilling to speak any louder. "I'm not sure how much longer he'll be asleep, but I'm pretty sure even when he wakes up, he'll be out of it for a while."
"Actually, I just came to check on you guys," said Roach, looking weary and worried. "I've got good news and bad news . . . or really, it's all the same piece of news, but it's both good and bad at the same time . . ."
Roy lifted a hand to cut off his rambling. "Just tell me."
"We caught Booker," he said simply, and Roy blinked at him for a moment. "Yes, I know that sounds like the best news possible, but that's where you'd be wrong. You see, he was picked up early this morning, not long after we picked up the bouquet from your house. As soon as the unit that picked him up figured out who they had, they called us to take him off their hands. Then we got the call about this . . . the thing is, Booker was in holding during the time the drugs would have been slipped into Ed's coffee." The implications of what Roach had just said rolled over Roy with all the weight and force of a freight train. He could only stare at the detective, no clue what to say or even how to make his mouth work at all. "Yeah, we feel exactly the same about it. So, here's where it gets really weird. When we questioned Booker, he told us that the reason he broke out of prison was because somebody had come to him asking all sorts of questions about Edward. It spooked him, and he thought that he was the only one who could protect Ed, so he broke out of jail to do exactly that."
"In other words, we have no idea who's really after Ed or what they're capable of," said Roy faintly, feeling dizzy and powerless and terrified of what might happen next. "Have you told Al and Hohenheim yet?"
"Not yet," answered Roach with a heavy sigh. "Murry is going to tell them. I came here so I could tell you and Ed. I'd thought he'd at least be awake by now, or closer to it."
"There were some complications, a bad reaction to the Rohypnol," Roy explained to him. "The dose was too high. It would have been fine for anybody else, but Ed's missing limbs means his body mass and blood volume are reduced. He pretty much OD'd." Roy looked up at the clock. He was surprised by how little time had actually passed. It had certainly felt longer. "He should be awake any minute now, though. The doctor said three more hours at most, and it's been a little over two, I think."
"I'll scare myself up some coffee then," said Roach, heading for the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
Almost as soon as Roach left, Roy heard a quiet groan from the bed. He swung his head around so fast he heard his neck pop. Ed's face scrunched up as he struggled to wake, letting out another soft groan. Roy rushed over to the side of the bed and took up Ed's flesh hand, letting him know he wasn't alone. "Hey, love, let me see those gorgeous eyes," Roy encouraged him, keeping his voice as gentle and calm as possible, even though his heart was beating a mile a minute in anticipation. "Come on, Ed, open 'em up for me." Ed's eyes opened a crack, a slim sliver of gold peeking out. "There you are. Hey beautiful, how are you feeling?"
"Roy?" croaked Ed.
"The one and only," said Roy, one hand stroking the hair away from Ed's face.
"I had this horrible dream that Al made me drink nasty cow juice," slurred Ed, and Roy laughed. He just couldn't help it. He was giddy with relief and amused that Ed's first words would be a complaint about the milk.
"I hate to break it to you, beautiful, but that really happened," Roy told him, and Ed squinted up at him with a groggy yet betrayed look.
"That little shit," grumbled Edward.
"I need to go let the doctor know you're awake, all right?" said Roy, though, really, the last thing he wanted to do was leave Ed's side, even for a second. "I'll be right outside, and I won't be gone a minute."
"Am I in a hospital?" asked Ed, his eyes suddenly opening wide only to close again in a wince. "Never mind. Too tired to be alarmed. I'mma stick with vaguely concerned until after I get some coffee."
"I'll see what I can do," promised Roy, chuckling as he headed out the door. He went straight to the nurse's station and asked the bored scrubs-clad lady behind the desk to call the doctor and let him know Ed was awake. Even as Roy headed back to Ed's room, he was already sending out a group text to everybody who mattered to notify them as well, promising an update on Ed's condition after speaking with the doctor.
Roach texted back, asking if he should bring Ed some coffee too, making Roy laugh again. Ed frowned at him, probably wondering what was so funny. "It's a little creepy how well those detectives know you by now," Roy told him, earning a golden eyebrow arched in inquiry. "Roach came by to talk to you. He went to grab himself some coffee while he waited, and as soon as I sent out the text to tell everybody you're back in the land of the living, first thing Roach asks is if you need coffee." Ed laughed weakly, just as amused as Roy. "Next thing you know we're going to be inviting them over for dinner on the weekends."
"We already do that," said Ed, making a face.
"Good point."
"Hello, Mr. Elric," said the doctor as he swept into the room. "I wish I could say that it's good to see you again, but you and I both know better. Luckily for the both of us, you won't be here much longer. I just need to have a listen to your lungs to determine if it's safe to take you off of the oxygen."
"What was it I got doped up with?" asked Ed, sounding slightly more aware.
"Rohypnol, but there was an additive we haven't been able to identify yet. The lab managed to isolate the additive using the mass spectrometer, and they're investigating it now. As for the Rohypnol, you were given a dose that far exceeded what would be considered safe."
"Enough to cause respiratory distress?" interrupted Ed absently, and Roy could see that Ed was already in full scientist mode, examining the incident and its results like he would an experiment in the lab. "That means that whoever dosed me either didn't know about my prosthesis or didn't have enough medical knowledge to calculate the dosage correctly. The presence of the additive suggests either knowledge of chemistry or access to someone with a background in chemistry."
"I'll leave the who and how to you and the police, Mr. Elric," said the doctor as he approached the bed. "If your breathing has made significant enough improvement to take you off oxygen, I'll be able to discharge you. I'd prefer you stay here under observation, but I know better than to try that. You'll just leave AMA if I do. You've got a bit of a reputation around here for leaving AMA even when you very obviously shouldn't even be out of bed. The last thing we need is you climbing out of window again."
"Ha, yeah, I remember that," laughed Ed. "Tore my stitches, but it wasn't too bad. I replaced them when I got to my lab."
"I noticed some crossed out swear words in come of the Dr.'s comments in your records, and now I know why," said the doctor with a sigh, and Ed laughed again, Roy turning his head as he snickered. "So, like I said, I'll release you, if only to save you from your own stubbornness. However, I caution you strongly against operating a motor vehicle or any other heavy machinery for the next 24 hours while the traces of the drug work their way out of your system. I would also advise against strenuous activity during that time. I'd like you to return if you continue to feel sluggish or suffer from dizzy spells or other symptoms beyond the 24 hours. Until we know what you were given, we honestly can't predict how you will react, so it's best to be wary. Do you have someone who can monitor you for the next few days until we can be sure you're in the clear?"
"We live together. I can keep an eye on him," said Roy right away.
"Good, now, if you could try to sit up for me please," requested the doctor. The doctor listened to Ed's heart and breathing then settled the stethoscope around his neck once more. He asked Ed a battery of questions, not only about he felt but also to test his memory and cognitive function. When he was finally satisfied, he picked up Ed's chart again and began scribbling some notes. "All right, you still sound a little wheezy, but not enough to be alarming, and memory and speech don't seem to be impaired. The delay in reflexes on your automail limbs is something you might want to discuss with your mechanic as soon as you get home to determine if there's a problem with the interface or if it's simply a side effect of the drug. I'll release you for the time being, however, if you find yourself struggling to breathe even while at rest or after only minimal activity, I want you to return to ER immediately." He turned to Roy next. "Also, bring him back immediately if you can't wake him and he doesn't respond to painful stimuli – a simple pinprick to toe should suffice for a test." Roy nodded solemnly, so the doctor returned his attention to Ed. "Otherwise, follow-up with your primary care physician in two days to recheck your breathing and other symptoms. I'll go get your discharge instructions and paperwork."
Roach walked in just as the doctor was walking out, already extending cups of coffee toward Ed and Roy, each of them taking a cup with their name on it. Roach took a sip from his own coffee and grimaced dramatically – it really was a special kind of gross, the kind reserved for snail trails and raw sewage. Ed, bless his coffee-guzzling soul, barely batted an eyelash at the flavor of the disgusting brew, letting out a happy sigh as soon as the first sip of caffeinated beverage made its way down his throat. As long as Ed had caffeine all was right with the world as far as he was concerned. Roy could only chuckle and shake his head to himself. Ed was really something else.
"Well, I've got good news and god-awful news. Which do you want first?" asked Roach grimly.
"I'll take good news for $300 Alex," replied Ed in his best game show contestant impression.
"We caught Booker," Roach said bluntly.
"Are you fucking kidding?! That's, like, the best news in the history of ever!" enthused Ed ecstatically. But then the light of his celebration dimmed when he noticed he was the only one happy about it. "Oh shit, what's the god-awful news? Did he get away again or . . .?"
"He's not the one who drugged you," answered Roach with a heavy sigh. "Given the time of his arrest, there's no way he could have done it. But wait, it gets worse." Roach sighed again and took another sip of disgusting coffee. Ed visibly braced himself, Roy quickly crowding into his space and wrapping his free arm around his boyfriend. "Booker says the reason he escaped was because somebody came to him asking questions about you, and some of the things this person said led Booker to believe you might be in danger. The fact that you were given a date rape drug in broad daylight is reason enough for us to consider that this might not be the rantings of nutjob."
"Shit," hissed Ed, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. "Shit, that's why they were watching me instead of looking around me for signs of Booker. They were looking for the bigger fish."
"What do you mean?" asked Roach.
"Those assholes, the marshals, they were watching me at the diner, and they didn't seem to notice that Booker was watching me too, like they weren't really paying attention. We gave them a ration of shit for it, too. But what if they were paying attention, just not looking for what we thought they were looking for. But they never said a word to indicate they were there to look for anybody but Booker. So what I told them about informing the victim still holds. What they're doing is illegal, regardless of if they were doing what I think they were doing or not. You can't just dangle hapless citizens as bate without permission or prior notification or whatever," rambled Ed, his eyes wide and unblinking and a little bit wild, an open display of his mounting panic. "Maybe that's not what they're doing at all. All I have is theories and no real evidence to back any of it up. For that matter is there even really any evidence to back up the nutjob's claims that I'm in danger? He's delusional, after all. And what sort of danger are we talking about? Death, maiming, enslavement, tax auditing?"
"Woah, now, slow down, Elric," said Roach, holding a hand up in a placating gesture. Ed looked like he wanted to bite it on principle. "We had the same questions as you. That's why we got security footage from the prison of the day that Booker said someone came to see him. It happened just like he said it did. On top of that, Booker said that somebody has been following you. We were able to use traffic cameras and ATM cameras and shit like that to confirm it. The same guy who talked to Booker in prison has been following you around. And this dude's got skills, like para-military type skills. He planted a camera in your office and the lecture halls and classrooms where you usually teach, but apparently he got flummoxed by whatever weird security shit you've got set up at the house. We managed to pull a partial print off of the lens on one of his cameras and ran it through AFIS. Fat lot of good that did! Fucker's info is almost entirely redacted by another fucking agency.
"This is where it really gets into the good news/bad news thing. So, we managed to pick this guy up outside of the hospital – and let me tell you, subduing him was a serious bitch, and I've got the bruises to prove it. Hell, even Murry's got a black eye for his trouble. But Booker was right, this guy is small fish. He's obviously a hired thug. I mean, everything about this guy screams 'I'm an evil mercenary henchman'. Problem is, the guy ain't talking. He won't even tell us his name let alone who the fuck he works for. Meanwhile, the marshals are harassing us to release both prisoners into their custody, but they're being super douches, so my boss is doing that thing he does where he basically tells you to fuck off, but he does it so politely that you can't fight back. Elric, this is a real shit storm you've landed us in."
"Well, shit," breathed Ed, running a hand through his hair. It was then that Roy realized that Ed hadn't blinked a single once during the entire explanation – a clear sign of stress if not shock.
"Ed, you might want to take a deep breath and let it out real slow," Roy told him, running a hand slowly up and down the tense line of Ed's back. Ed took in a long, slightly shaky breath and let it out slowly then took another, finally blinking as his back released at least a fraction of its tension.
"What the fuck am I supposed with this shit, Roy?" demanded Ed, his words painted in dread and confusion. "I don't know shit about my enemy. I don't know who they are or what they want or how far they're willing to go to get what they want. I don't know how many people they have working for them or what their skills are. I've got nothing to go on here, and I have no idea how to fill in any of these blanks."
"I think our first step is to take you home," said Roy, keeping his voice calm and soothing. "After that we get everybody together at the house. We can do a bit of brainstorming, see if we can't at least come up with some solid theories. Then I think we need to up our game for security measures, start getting downright paranoid. And not just about protecting ourselves, but also anything we might be working on. You said it before. We're scientists working for a prestigious institution, many of us with corporate or military backing. We need to be more aware of that fact. Maybe we can even start looking into anyone that might have an interest in your work or any projects you might have direct access to. Maybe somebody got pissed about something you worked on before for some reason. You know scientists are all secretly a bunch of jealous little divas. It's not hard to imagine somebody getting their panties in a bunch because you beat them to some brilliant discovery or something. For now, all we can really do is take things one day at a time and keep an eye out for clues. Nobody's perfect, and this bastard, whoever he or she is, will slip up eventually."
"All right, yeah, we can do that," said Ed, though he didn't sound entirely certain. He was probably wondering what would happen if their team slipped up before the enemy did. Roy was worrying about that himself, but he was also trying not to dwell on worst case scenarios just yet. For now, Ed was alive and well . . . all right, not well, but getting better at least. Things may look bleak, but they weren't hopeless yet.
"We still have plenty of resources that we haven't even begun to tap yet," Roy reassured Ed gently, wrapping his arms around his lover and silently willing him to have a little faith. "We'll get through this, one way or another."
