New OC. Raiven is amazing. The next chapter will be dedicated to her.

This chapter is unsatisfying, and the tense F A I L S, but I'm tired.

Chapter Fourteen

Ed is Sick

In Which Roy Cleverly Observes That Ed Is Not Himself

At the center of the UFC is a portal.

The portal isn't used often; in fact, it hasn't been used in at least a few months. See, this portal leads from the UFC to FFnet-- and, to be perfectly honest, people don't usually make that journey.

FFnet to UFC tends to be a one-way trip. If your Writer doesn't care for you anymore, off you go.

And if she wants you back?

Ha.

Keep dreaming.

It won't happen.

It was a lovely day in Amestris. Raiven was sitting at a tiny table outside a small, modest coffee shop at the edge of Central City. The sun was almost blinding-- a memory of her innocent childhood days, the ones she missed so much.

She ran her hand through her long black hair and smiled sadly as her fingers grasped unconsciously at the golden clasp on her neck. She could feel, out of nowhere, beads of water forming behind her soft sea-green orbs and--

The patch of air above turned bright pink, ripped open, and deposited a Main Character on her lap before sealing up again as if nothing had happened.

Ed groaned. "God damn it..." He stumbled to his feet, clutching his head, and turned to look at Raiven. "Sorry, I'm too busy trying to stay in character to pay any attention to you." With that, he disappeared into the crowd that wasn't there a second ago.

Raiven was stunned.

Raiven was shocked.

Raiven was also, in case you haven't noticed, a Mary Sue.

I think... I think I've just met a Main Character! Oh, wow! Oh, god, I can FEEL myself getting more Sue-like! Yes, yes, yes! I can try again!

"I CAN TRY AGAIN!" Raiven shouted. "YES!" She leapt up and knocked her chair over onto the stone-paved sidewalk with a clatter. She whooped loudly and scampered off.

Roy's POV

Ed burst through my door. Literally. I've grown so used to the sound of cracking wood and the regular chore of picking splinters out of my carpet.

However, I noticed that, today, he kicked my door to the ground and beat it to a pulp with the heel of his shoe with less reckless enthusiasm than usual. I, being endlessly vigilant and concerned about Ed's health and general well-being, felt a pang of guilt. Was this strange lack of his usual anger and spasticness a result of all the missions I've been sending him on?

"Ed..." I said worriedly. "Are you feeling okay? You aren't screaming at me. Usually I have a migraine by now."

"I'm fine," Ed snapped. "I wasn't poisoned, dad. Whoops, let that slip. Those weren't feelings. I don't have feelings. I'm male, remember, dad? I didn't say that, by the way."

My eyes widened. He let his feelings slip! He MUST be sick! He usually keeps his feelings hidden deep inside. Inside his Manly Diary, I mean. (1)

I stood up from my desk and walked around to the other side. Ed stared up at me with his golden orbs and I've used that word way too often and it's not even funny anymore and I laid the back of my hand on his forehead.

I drew my hand back instantly-- his forehead was burning! My Brilliant Author is a dumbass who doesn't understand how fevers work!

"Ed," I said calmly. "You're sick."

"Nuh uh," Ed said, and he fainted.

How manly.

Still Roy's POV-- Ed's my sonny-boo inner angsty monologue

Edward is like a son to me.

You can clearly tell this just by watching us-- the way I show affection toward him. The way he respects me. The way we know things about each other than the fact that our names are Ed and Roy, respectively. The way we occasionally speak to each other willingly. The way I support him and tell him that he's a... good kid or whatever.

Yes, we are very close.

So close, in fact, that I was able to skip work without anyone caring to take Ed to my house or apartment or box or wherever the hell I live and care for him.

Currently, he's lying on my bed while I sit on a stool beside him and stare at his unconscious body. My gaze is extremely helpful. It is crucial to his recovery.

I consider calling Al and letting him know that Ed's here because of tragic reasons, but he'd probably come over and act all... Helpful and loving and stuff. Their brotherly love would out-kawaii my parental love.

(1) Yes, I WILL continue this series… Later.

"Brooklyn, Brooklyn, take me in

Are you aware the shape I'm in?

My hands, they shake

My head, it spins

Brooklyn, Brooklyn, take me in."

Tell me where that's from and win my undying love or something.