Whhhhaaa I'm so sorry! ;_; Family was in town visiting this weekend, and basically my time ended up WAY more swamped than I anticipated. Author is sorry :(
Überängstlich: German for overnaxious, panicky. (okay but like... don't judge me... there really aren't that many U words out there :/ Don't even ask me what my plan is for X...)
The drive to their destination was silent.
Ed stared valiantly out the window, focused dully on the darkness streaming by, and said nothing at all.
He tried not to feel the tension and nerves beating hard inside him. He failed miserably the entire time.
"...Ed?"
Once again, he fidgeted so hard he nearly caught his prosthetic hand in the seatbelt.
He was positive that he could actually feel Hawkeye's gaze drilling into the back of his neck, and once again, he found himself saying nothing.
But, just as he'd remembered her to be, Hawkeye was not one to be baited into not pushing her point just by his non-answer. Because, after several long beats of uncomfortable quiet in the car, the silence broken only by the steady thrum of the engine, the major cleared her throat, and spoke again.
"I know you said to wait until after we've seen the general to interrogate you, and I will. But, Ed... at least answer me this. You said that you've been home for almost five months, now?"
Slowly, still staring stubbornly out the blurry window, Ed forced himself to nod.
His heart was beating so fast it almost felt like it was trying to burst out of his chest.
"...Right," Hawkeye said slowly, her voice implacable. "Five months. ...Right around the time General Mustang suddenly became just... miserable. Almost more miserable than I've ever seen him." She paused, and once again, Ed could almost feel her hard gaze drilling into the back of his neck. "...You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you, Ed?"
He slunk a little further back into his seat, heart beating harder with guilt, and stared very stubbornly out the window.
Words were still pretty much beyond him, by this point, but he somehow managed to force himself into a nonchalant, noncommittal shrug.
For several seconds, there was no sound except the car, and Ed's own fast, unsteady breathing.
"...I see." Hawkeye paused again, and Ed just reflexively shut his eyes so he could maybe stop imagining her staring at him like that. Her voice was still implacable, at least, not the angry judgment or accusation he knew he deserved- but maybe that just made it worse.
Her next words, however, he had not been expecting.
"And you've also been here while he's gotten better."
Once again, Ed just couldn't think of anything to say. At this point, he wasn't sure if he'd said so much as a single word ever since following her out to the car.
He hunched down a little lower, cheeks flushing, and lowered his gaze from the window to stare at his lap.
While this small interrogation was far from the worst of what he'd been expecting, it was still so uncomfortable and full of guilt that he found himself just sitting there like a silent lump, unable to so much as look the sniper in the eye.
And then, finally, Hawkeye passed down her last judgment.
"I knew something strange was going on with him," she murmured, more to herself than him- and he could almost hear her smiling. Then, more directly at him: "In that case- we will discuss this later. All of it, Ed. But, for now... I am glad for both of you, Ed."
She didn't say anything more for the rest of the drive, nor did she look at him- but when Ed finally got himself to turn around enough to stare at her, she wore a very faint smile.
"Get out of my way!"
"General, please-"
"Get out of my way or I'll roast you out of it! Move!"
"Just sit down, you can't-"
"Move! That's a direct order!"
And for the tenth time in the last two minutes, Jean found himself, rather than following this so-called direct order, instead stopping his superior officer from meeting the floor in a faceplant.
"Come on, sir," he tried to cajole yet again, holding him with a steadying grip on his shoulders despite the sloppy, uncoordinated, irritated attempts at throwing him off. By the looks of it, without his hands, Mustang really would be flat on the floor. "Just calm down, will you? There's no need for any of this..."
Mustang, however, did not seem very interested in calming down, at the moment- or being sane. "Let me go!" he growled yet again, this time with such a violent shrug he managed to dislodge his hands, and yet again tried to lurch to his feet. "I have to go home! There's something I have to do- you don't understand-!"
Sighing, Jean took a few steps back to barricade the doorway instead, since it seemed like his attempts to wrestle his superior back down were doomed to failure. "Look, it's just for another night. There's nothing you have to go home for, Hawkeye's taken care of everything, sir-"
"No, she hasn't! Havoc, move!"
"Move so I can what, watch you pass out in the hall?" he grumbled back, starting to lose his patience now. Of all people, he would be the one stuck with overnight guard duty for his superior at his most difficult... "Boss, you've been unconscious for two days; you're not going anywhere. You look dead on your feet anyway; what's the harm just sleeping here instead of at home for one more-"
"That's the problem!" Mustang cried desperately, eye wide and almost wild with desperation. "I've been here for two days- Havoc, you don't understand, I have to go home, or- or at least make a phone call, god, I-" With a frustrated groan, the general yet again started to waver to his feet only to collapse backwards when he lost his balance, eye going out of focus and legs suddenly failing to support his weight. His bad leg seemed even worse than normal, derailing his already dizzy progress with a severe limp; the bed was only there to catch him simply because he'd never managed to get more than a step away from it- but, to Jean's dismay, this repeated failure didn't seem to dishearten him to his single-minded mission in the slightest. "Damn it, Havoc!" he gasped hoarsely, now holding his head in his hands, eye shut tight in pain or vertigo or both. "Get me to a phone now. That's an order!"
Well, he seemed to have finally grasped that he was in no shape to go home, but Jean found it hard to be relieved, looking at him like that. Since it didn't seem like guarding the door was all that necessary, at this point, he tentatively approached him again, trying to lower his voice back to something more persuasive rather than the more irritated grumble he felt like. "Sir, be reasonable... you can't even stand. You'll never make it all the way to the phone..." He started to get down on his knees in front of him, but found himself only more worried rather than relieved; it seemed as if the only reason Mustang hadn't shoved him back was that he was too dizzy or out of it to manage it. God, he hadn't seen him this upset or angry in years... what was going on?
"Just- sir, just tell me whatever message you need to get out, and I could go take care of it for you?" he tried weakly. "You won't make it to the phone-"
"No! No!" he cried again, almost sounding like a petulant child- but he was far too distressed and panicked, breathing hard even as he made another valiant but failed attempt at getting to his feet. "No, you can't just pass along the message for me! This isn't up for debate; move, damn it!"
"Sir..." Jean shook his head weakly, already racking his mind for anything, anything at all that would get this to make sense- but he couldn't. Was he delirious or confused? Should he go get a doctor? Had the blow to he head been worse than they'd thought? Mustang certainly seemed to think he was in his right mind, but none of this was making any sense to Jean, and the general wasn't trying to explain.
For the first time in two days, just barely ten minutes ago, Mustang had finally opened his eye. He'd been bleary-eyed, confused, and exhausted, all of which Jean had expected, and the exhaustion had made him more pliable than normal, allowing Jean to quietly explain what had happened and keep him calm.
Or so he'd thought.
Because all such efforts had been destroyed instantly, on the answer to his sleepy question of how long he'd been there for.
Mustang had frozen. He'd gone stock still with nothing except a rattling gasp, the hand previously massaging his forehead jerking to be paralyzed in mid-air, jaw clenching and muscles going tight. He'd just laid there like that for one single, nervewracking moment, eye blown wide, face bleached white, and expression frozen with all of the tension like Jean had just told him the city had been destroyed.
And then, he'd panicked.
Jean had since spent the last five minutes trying to calm down his dizzy, ill, and probably delirious superior and keep him in bed. He'd failed miserably on both accounts.
Mustang wouldn't say what was wrong, or what exactly it was that he had to do, why it had to be done now, and why he had to be the one to do it. All he'd done was insist, first on going home, then, when it had become apparent he could barely even stand, at least making a phone call.
And he still had no idea why, but he was starting to worry that if his boss kept on like this, he was going to have to get a doctor so they could check his head again.
Jean sighed heavily, sitting back on his heels to take a better look at him again. Mustang slouched, veering almost dangerously to one side, supported by one hand and face hidden in the other. His face was still drained, looking almost unsettlingly white against his black hair and eyepatch. Despite his slumped position, he still looked just a second or two away from straining to get up again, trembling on the edge of the bed and gaze darting wildly over everything but him. His breaths were short and strained, panicked because of something he just didn't understand, hair plastered against the bloodied bandages around his head- but no matter how much he looked like he should just lie down again and relax, it was very clear those were not his intentions in the slightest.
"Sir..." he started again, voice still low, aiming for something hopefully persuasive and convincing. "Sir, if it's really so important it can't wait until tomorrow, just give me the message. I can call them for y-"
"No!"
"General, pl-"
"I said no, Havoc!" The hand he threw out to push him back was more uncoordinated and sloppy than an actual effective blow but Jean reeled back all the same, shocked beyond words. The general still looked half drunk and barely in his right mind, eye bloodshot and unfocused but fiery yet with some still unspoken life in him as his nearly incapacitated commander made yet another lurching attempt to get to his feet. "I'm your superior officer and I'm giving you an order to stand aside! You can't make the call for me, it can't wait until tomorrow morning, it has to be me and it has to happen now! So either get me to a phone, or get out of my way!"
"...No."
For one long, desperate moment, Mustang just sat there, panting and staring at him with a a wild-eyed look of frantic need and desperation. But when Jean refused to so much as budge, that seemed to be the only stimulus he'd needed to snap.
Figuratively, thank god.
Mustang feinted left, but it was a pretty pathetic feint; Jean knew the second he saw him turning towards his blind side what he was trying to do. He held out his arm to stop him, already starting to groan with the annoyance of it-
Then found himself bowled over straight to the floor.
Jean gasped again, still more shocked than anything else when the bare foot collided with his chest to topple him backwards. It wasn't hard enough to hurt but the kick at all completely threw him off; he hadn't guessed Mustang was this motivated to- to what, for god's sake? Make a phone call that anyone else could've very easily made in his place? What the hell was wrong with him?!
"Damn it, General, stop!" He shot upright, and cheap blow or not, Mustang still hadn't managed to get far; Jean caught up with him before the drunken stagger had even reached the door and latched both his arms around him, hauling him backwards from the door. "Just sit down and stop this already!" he gasped, seriously alarmed now. "Sir-..." He had to have hit his head much harder than they'd thought. That was the only thing that made sense. There was no other reason for him to acting like this, even now fighting to push his arms off and make a run for it, and Jean was left between manhandling back to lie down in a definite breach of boundaries or just standing there mid-wrestle, forcing him back from the door with every step he took. "Sir, please be rational about this! You don't have anyone you need to call! Just sit down, let me get a doctor-"
"Let me go, Ha- ah!"
"Sir!"
They landed on the floor together, Mustang's already perilous sense of balance giving out completely and the general dropping like a deadweight. Jean dove after him, frantically trying to stop his superior from hitting his head again, and this time, he took immediate action. Without giving Mustang the chance to rise again, he yanked one limp arm around his shoulders and forcibly hauled him back across the room, sitting his trembling superior back down on his bed and ready to keep him there, this time. His eye was completely unfocused again, staring almost blindly past him as the man fought to get himself back under control- but Jean wasn't going to wait around for that to happen-
The door creaked open behind him before he could yell for a doctor, and he started to sigh in relief. "Thank god," he muttered under his breath, turning. "Nurse, can you-"
He stopped, blinking in speechless disbelief.
It wasn't a nurse.
"Hawkeye!" Mustang gasped hoarsely behind him, making another fruitless attempt to throw him off. "Hawkeye, I have to make a phone call- damn you, Havoc, get off-"
Jean struggled again, still fighting to keep him down even as he turned more to face the sharpshooter, who looked strangely unsurprised by the scene she'd walked in on. "Hawkeye, I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with him; he keeps fighting with me about needing to go home or call someone- I don't know, he only just woke up, I think he might be delirious- sir, please-"
"He's not delirious," Hawkeye cut in quietly. Her eyes were still implacable- and her words, impossible.
"...What?" he trailed off confusedly, nearly gaping at her. How did she- never mind how did she know; where the hell had she even come from? It was after ten at night! She was supposed to be at home! "Hawkeye, what's-"
"Thank you, Major," Mustang gasped, sounding intensely relieved that he was finally being listened to, then threw off the hand on his shoulder again. God, he was like a five year old; unwilling to sit still, so stubborn Jean couldn't risk letting up for a second- "So if you'll- you'll just h-help me make it, to a- a phone, then-..."
Jean cursed; damn it, he didn't even sound like he'd be able to make it down the hallway anymore, why was he still talking like this? "Hawkeye, please, maybe he'll listen to you; get him to stop this! He's going to hurt himself-"
Hawkeye simply shook her head quietly, but not at him; she wasn't even looking at him, but her eyes, the way she was staring at Mustang... she knew something that he didn't, he realized with a jolt. There was something very, very off here, this was something more than a badly concussed Mustang rambling out of his mind- and she knew what it was.
"There's no need for you to make that phone call, sir," she said, quietly still, quietly and knowingly- and then she stepped aside, and pulled someone else from the hallway back into the room with her.
Once again, Mustang went stock still, and Jean was left to gape.
It was perfectly silent for several moments, Mustang just staring, and Jean staring between his superior and Hawkeye's odd expression and the strange, small, hooded figure. But then, recovering himself just like that, Mustang lurched upwards yet again, this time not throwing himself out of reach but just staring at the newcomer like he'd been smacked across the face. "No... no, what are you- what are you doing here?!" He reached for him, face again going white with horror. "You can't be here! This is dangerous! You can't be seen out here! No- no, god, what were you thinking?! I was just going to call y-"
And then the stranger just hurtled silently forward, lunging for the narrow bed, and threw his arms around Mustang in a wordless hug.
The motion forced the hood down on his head, and for the second time in one minute, Jean Havoc was left speechless.
Edward Elric, missing and presumed dead for seven years, fully alive Edward Elric, was hugging Mustang.
It stayed silent.
And somehow, Jean found himself even more shocked when, after several slow, still wordless moments, the tension and horror on Mustang's face relaxed into exhausted relief- and the general hugged him back.
"I'm so sorry," the general said weakly after a moment, one hand resting on Ed's trembling back. His voice was thick with misery and regret."I just woke up, I was going to call you- I only woke up five minutes ago. Ed, I didn't-"
"I know," Ed choked out, voice so small and muffled and it had been seven years; if it hadn't been for the sight of the kid right there in front of him, Jean honestly wouldn't have recognized it as Ed's at all. There was a long moment of uncertain silence, and then, Ed slowly tightened his grip on Mustang and buried his face in his shoulder.
When Riza had come home that night, folders under her arm and eyes tired at half past seven, she'd nearly shot and killed the quiet intruder waiting silently for her in the corner of her home.
It wasn't her fault. Breaking into a military officer's place of residence was not a life choice that had a long life expectancy, and she had not given any other course of action a moment's thought; it had only been Ed's quick words that had saved his own life- and stunned her, just as Havoc was now stunned, into complete inaction.
After all, while Roy had been rather tight-lipped about just what it was that had gone on the day the Fullmetal Alchemist had returned, now nearly six years ago today, he'd told them all enough to know the Elrics were as good as dead. Not dead in that they no longer existed- but dead in that they were never going to see them again.
She certainly had never expected to find Ed broken into her apartment, of all places, and rather than explaining just where the hell he'd been all these years, just demanding for her to tell him what had happened to Roy.
"It seems," she told Havoc, who was still staring, dumbstruck, at the impossible sight before them now, "that General Mustang has had a houseguest for a rather long time now."
Havoc just continued to stare blankly, and Riza, smiling slightly, followed his gaze as well. She told him quietly what little she knew, which didn't take long, because she knew next to nothing, and all the while, didn't take her eyes off where Ed had now half-climbed on the edge of the hospital bed, latched around Roy- and Roy just sat there, hugging him back.
"I'm okay," the general said quietly again, his eye dark and distant in an almost painful way. "I'm okay, Ed, I promise."
"I k-know," Ed choked back, his voice something broken but with an undercurrent of stubborn steel.
"...You thought I was hurt, didn't you."
The words were said with a weak smile but there was certainly nothing happy about them. They sounded almost as sad as Ed looked, even as the teen abruptly shook his head with a muffled sort of stubborn cough. "No," he snapped sourly, voice thick.
Then, just as suddenly Ed shoved back, stumbling a pace backwards to shove almost violently at Roy's shoulder, forcing him back as well far enough to meet his gaze eye-to-eye. "I thought you were dead, you dumb bastard," he gasped, rubbing a trembling hand across his face, then pushed weakly at his shoulder again.
Roy somehow managed a pathetic sort of smirk, but he still didn't look all that confident. "I'd never let a falling building kill me."
"Shut up," Ed nearly growled, voice shaking, and just stood there with his head down and shoulders trembling violently for one long moment before he just stepped back forward and pulled a surprised Roy back into a hug.
After several long moments, though, as if finally remembering their audience, Ed stepped back, face slightly red and nervous eyes on the floor. He fidgeted uncomfortably, gaze darting up for just a second to land on Havoc before just gluing back to his feet.
Roy cleared his throat in the awkward silence, eye traveling between the two of them carefully. "Thank you for handling this so well, Major. I can't imagine this wasn't a... shock, for you."
She smiled slightly, even as she gave him a Look that said this would be discussed later. "When I told Edward what had happened to you, I could tell he wasn't really put at ease. I decided it would be best to just take him to see you were all right for himself... luckily, it seems, based on what we walked on."
Roy didn't even have the grace to look abashed, at that, just nodding darkly as he turned away- then twisted back to Ed with a start. "You sought her out? She didn't find you?"
Ed glared right back, eyes fierce and jaw tight. "What was I supposed to do?! Don't tell me it was dangerous for me to go outside! You'd been- gone for two whole days- no one helpful was answering their phones- I... I had to find you!" He flushed darker, fists clenching by his sides. "It's your fault for having a building fall on your head in the first place! Why didn't you get yourself hurt in a way that radio would've told me about it, you ass?!"
"It wasn't a building. It was a piece of flaming building. And it is not my fault that this building on fire wasn't famous enough for it to headline the evening news, Ed."
"It is," Ed shot back just as stubbornly, but his voice was wavering again, and he dropped his gaze back down to his feet in an almost embarrassed display. "Why the hell you'd go in there in the first place. You told me you didn't missions anymore!"
"...Because there were people still in there," Roy said simply, voice quiet like that explained it all. And it did. "It wasn't a mission... there was a fire, and I could help. That's all."
"Help get yourself clocked in the head with rubble, you mean," Ed muttered back sullenly, still glaring at the floor- and Roy just rolled his eye and remained silent.
Riza cleared her throat after several moments again, since the two almost seemed to have forgotten their current location or that they had an audience. Again, both alchemists started, shifting back to look at her as if they really had forgotten she was in the room, and she found herself having to hold back a smile. "Well... if everything's been settled, then..."
"I'm staying here with Roy-"
"I'm going home with Ed-"
The alchemists stopped again, each blinking as they turned to stare at each other. She sighed, somewhere between impatient and amused now, and gestured at Ed again. "Sir, you're staying here."
"I'm not." Calmly, like this was the only logical thing to do in the world, Roy again pushed himself up straighter and put his feet back on the floor- though he at lost stopped before he actually stood, saving them from having to stop him from a faceplant again. He seemed to at least have figured out that trying to stand was a monumentally foolish idea. "There's no reason for me to stay here, Hawkeye," he insisted calmly, insisted like he was barely managing to sit upright or he hadn't just woken up after two days unconscious or there wasn't blood on his face. "They always try to keep you, with head injuries, but there's never any reason, I can recover at home just as well as-"
"Begging your pardon, sir, but the best way to not attract attention isn't to run off from the hospital when it's the middle of the night and you have a skull fracture. And," she gave Ed a heavy look, "I'd think attention is something you might want to avoid."
The answering looks she earned with this were nothing short of comical. Roy looked as put out and betrayed as a miserable puppy, staring at her like she was the one causing the problem here, not just the one pointing it out, whereas Ed just plopped right down to sit right next him, folding his arms and planting his feet on the floor. "Then I'll stay," he said simply, again, like it was the only logical choice in the world, and Riza groaned.
It had been seven years, but somehow, neither one of them had got even slightly easier to deal with.
"I'm pretty sure having a stranger stay the night in here is also not the way to attract attention," she pointed out dryly. "The only reason Havoc's allowed is for the general's security detail."
"Security-" Ed's eyes widened, and suddenly he was turning back around to stare at Roy again, paling as he started to push himself up straighter. "You never said anything about needing-"
"Ed. It's normal. Standard procedure, that's all." Roy made a face, clearly irritated with it all, but then just smiled slightly back at Ed, plainly trying to reassure him. "I'm a general, and I'm hospitalized. ...Technically." He made annoyed another face, this one showing just how unnecessary he thought his current state, then sighed. "It's just standard procedure to have a security detail."
But Ed only remained silent, clearly still worried about him and reluctant to leave. He gnawed on his lower lip, shifting uncertainly, and Riza found herself sharing a look with a still rather stunned Havoc. Though he wasn't outright saying it, it was very clear Ed was worried for Roy's sake, to the point that he was willing to spend the night in the hospital just to be close to him. Edward Elric- the boy who had once made a habit out of breaking out of hospitals, no matter how serious his injury. For Roy's sake.
And, what was more, by the way Roy was reacting, he wasn't startled by this in the slightest. Whatever this strange new dynamic was, shifted from the inherently argumentative one she remembered, it was clear it had been developing for a while.
Suddenly, the strange ways her superior had slowly been changing over these past several months finally began to make sense.
Roy sighed heavily, finally resigned to spending the night in the hospital himself, but he put a hand on Ed's shoulder and tried to meet his eyes, pushing him a little back towards the door. "Hawkeye's right," he said quietly. "It'll attract too much attention if I try and leave now, but you can't stay here. Just... I'm sorry, Ed, you'll just have to go back home with her." He pushed again at his shoulder, this time narrowing his eye to try and get a closer look at him, then frowned. "You idiot, you look like you haven't slept at all. Knowing you, you probably haven't. You don't need to be staying up all night here for no reason; just go home with Hawkeye, Ed, and get some sleep. It'll be fine. Havoc'll be here to watch me," he said, jabbing a thumb over at his subordinate, "so this time I really won't get into any trouble, flaming buildings or otherwise."
Havoc coughed quietly, muttering something suspiciously that sounded like Mustang finding trouble all on his own no matter who was there watching him, but at that moment, Roy only had eyes for Ed. The young alchemist still didn't seem very pleased by the notion, looking just stubborn enough to try and put his foot down to stay- but when he looked around, and realized everyone was against him, he deflated like a popped balloon.
Roy sighed regretfully again, looking just as unhappy about all of this as Ed. "I'll be fine," he repeated, a little quieter now, and when he turned his gaze reluctantly back towards her, his hand stayed on Ed's shoulder. "Hawkeye," he said, clearing his throat. "Thank you so much for taking care of this. If we can just indulge you for a little while longer..."
She nodded without hesitation, lowering her gaze to Ed as well. "It'll be far from the least you've asked of us, sir," and this, like all the rest, was something she had absolutely no qualms in fulfilling. Keeping Ed safe- even if, at the moment, that seemed only to be from himself- wasn't anything that she could ever say no to... no matter how stunned she was that he was even still alive in the first place. "Just to clarify," she said after a moment, "when you're telling me to watch Ed, you're also telling me to keep this quiet from the military? I'm only assuming, since it's apparent he's been back for some time now, and you never saw fit to inform us."
There was just a hint of accusation in those words, a reminder that this deceit would be returned to at a more appropriate time, and Roy didn't even wince, just nodding in silent acceptance like he'd expected this all along. "Yes. That goes for you, too, Havoc. Ed's return isn't something to publicize, just yet. I'm sorry to ask you all to keep even more secrets, but we're not ready to-"
"R-... Roy?"
Roy barely looked at Ed, still glancing between her and Havoc as if trying to assess their willingness to help him hide this- as if they would ever say no to helping Ed like this. "Don't worry, Ed," he started distractedly, "we'll still be able to keep you hidden, just-"
"Th-that's... actually, I don't..." Ed broke off, eyes wide and voice small, looking as if he almost didn't know how to say what he was thinking. When Roy stopped again, actually looking back at him this time in surprise, the teen just kept his head and eyes down, fidgeting again. "I don't need them to keep this a secret anymore."
Roy blinked.
Then, surprise transformed into shock, and he sat there to just openly gape at Ed.
Slowly, Riza exchanged another uncertain look with Havoc, just as utterly lost as he was, then looked back at the two alchemists.
She was definitely going to have a talk with Roy about keeping things from them once this was all over.
"Ed-" Roy finally started again, for the first time looking as bleary-eyed and confused as his concussion would warrant. He started to reach a hand forward shakily again. "Ed, what are you talking about? They'll keep this quiet, it's not a problem, it'll-"
"No, I know that, I- I'm saying they don't need to. Not anymore." He hesitated again, still looking uncomfortably away from them all, and as completely out of the loop as Riza felt on this, she could at least see that this was a big deal to them, and so she kept her questions silent. "I knew before I ever went outside tonight that there was a chance I wouldn't be able to take this back. That going out like that, to Hawkeye, would be permanent- that I wouldn't be able to hide anymore. ...I decided I had to be okay with that. And I am. ...I'm ready to come back, Roy."
He shrugged a little then, gaze downcast, seeming as if he was trying to downplay it- but by the look on Roy's face, Riza had no doubt how important this declaration was to the both of them.
Once again, it was as if they weren't even the room at all. Roy paid no attention to either of them as he moved closer to Ed, and Ed wasn't even looking at anyone, still staring at the floor as he was uncomfortable with all the attention. Neither made any attempt to explain his decision to them- but Riza somehow didn't need Roy to tell her to understand what was going on.
Ed had been back here for five months, hiding with Roy the entire time.
And by the sound of it- by all the new scars she'd seen and the way he tended to avoid looking her in the eye and the way he'd desperately thrown himself at Roy the moment he'd seen he was all right, he'd been hiding with Roy because he'd been too shaken and scared and hurt to face the rest of the world.
And he wasn't anymore.
Roy swung around carefully, moving so he sat directly in between them and Ed, completely blocking their view of them. She couldn't see her superior's face anymore an just silently watched with Havoc as he put his hand back on Ed's shoulder, holing him in place and forcing him to look up from the floor. "Ed," he said at last, "are you absolutely sure about this?"
With Roy blocking them, she could barely see Ed at all- but she could at least manage to watch his slow, tentative- but unhesitant nod.
Roy sighed heavily. "...All right, then," was all he said aloud, but the weight of what was left unsaid was enormous. His hand stayed on Ed's shoulder, holding him back away from them, and neither spoke, but Riza could see that the light in Ed's eyes, at long last, was certain.
At long last, whatever Roy was searching for, he found. "Okay," he sighed, permission, almost, then laughed weakly even as he pulled Ed a little closer. "Just promise me you'll at least stay in hiding until I can go in with you. I want to be there. Tomorrow morning?"
Ed nodded again, not even a hint of reluctance about it, and Roy sighed in relief. "Good. I'm meet you at Hawkeye's. Havoc will drive me." He finally turned back to acknowledge them, almost looking a little apologetic about asking them to do this without any explanation, when they'd already been lied to for so long and apparently were going to be left in the dark for a little bit more. She could see it in his eye that he was going to tell them what he could, and soon- but right now, with Ed standing small and shaken behind him, and in a public hospital with too many potential listening ears nearby and around them, was just not that time, and for now, she would, once again, have to follow his order without question.
She nodded once back and knew that, next to her, Havoc had done the same.
The relief in Roy's eye was the only answer she needed.
Clearing her throat, since it looked like neither of the alchemists were eager enough to separate that they would do it themselves, Riza took a small step forward, holding out her hand to Ed again. "Come on. We've somehow avoided attention so far, but the longer we stay the more we risk attracting attention."
Roy nodded first, reluctant but at least accepting the facts, and he gave Ed a slight push, trying to get him moving. "Of course. Ed, stay with Hawkeye for the night- and sleep, damn it. I'll link back with you two tomorrow morning, and we'll... we'll go to the military then." He glanced uncertainly at her again, hand still gently pushing Ed in her direction. "If you don't mind, could you swing back by my place and pick up Skullfire? So you can feed him?"
But Riza wasn't stupid, and she knew from the look in his eye that the request had nothing to do with his pet, and everything to do with soothing Ed.
Seemed she'd be getting another animal in the house for the night.
"Skullfire?" Havoc spoke up uncertainly from by the door, testing the waters a little. "Isn't that your demon cat?"
Roy scowled, grumbling out a short, unhappy sort of laugh, while Ed finally looked back up at them for the first in minutes, pale and withdrawn but some certainty and life finally back in his eyes again. "Skullfire is an angel cat. The bastard over here is the demon." He glanced back at Roy over his shoulder once, frowning sulkily at him- and then, with a deep breath to prepare himself, crossed the room to stand next to Hawkeye.
"Tomorrow morning, then," he said quietly, gaze downcast. Then, with another heavy, shaking breath, he spun back to glare at Roy again, eyes narrowed. "And you had better show up then, bastard," he threatened steadily, though there was something else strange in his voice that she couldn't quite identify, the same uneasy worry that had been present in him all night. "I don't care if the whole city's on fire; you can just be a normal fucking person and not run headfirst into a flaming building, because normal fucking people have friends who'll be fucking mad if anything happens to them. I'll kick your ass if you don't."
To her surprise, Roy merely smirked quietly at the words, not protesting as he might've once done or pointing out that, among them all, Ed had probably ended up in the most flaming buildings combined. He just nodded, even raising a hand in a pathetic sort of lazy half-salute, and made a little shooing motion to send Ed off. "I'll keep safe if you can somehow finally manage it yourself, Ed."
Ed scowled darkly, annoyed now and looking just this side of sticking his tongue out at him, stomping theatrically back towards the door. Riza, smiling softly again, was about to follow him- then stopped, when, the moment Ed's back was turned, Roy waved silently for her to join him.
All it took was a look at Havoc to get the man to turn his back, slipping over to Ed to keep him occupied. That done, she turned back to Roy, her brow furrowed in a silent question.
He pulled her closer like she had Ed, reaching out for a folder sitting nearby, something inconsequential it looked like Havoc had probably been working on while waiting for him to wake up. "And if you don't mind taking care of this, too; I think this paperwork needs to be filed by tomorrow afternoon-" he started loudly, just loud enough for Ed to hear, and pulled her closer again.
"Have you asked him about Al yet?"
At the soft whisper by her ear, Riza stiffened.
Slowly, she shook her head again.
The quiet, almost miserable note in Roy's answering sigh was not what she'd wanted to hear.
"Don't," he told her back, just as quietly, and pulled back before she was able to.
Silently, looking her steadily back right in the eye, his face completely devoid of the amusement and light that had been there just five seconds ago and eye as dark as the night outside, he shook his head.
Again, that was all he had to do- and everything she hadn't wanted to see.
With a quiet, shuddering sigh, she nodded back, not risking saying anything aloud, then turned on her heel back to face Ed and Havoc. She'd arranged her face back in a proper mask before she'd even reached them, and had managed to keep her voice light and carefree again as she returned to Ed's side, again prodding him a little towards the door with one hand and pulling his hood back up with the other.
Ed sent one last look back at Roy, Roy who gave a dumb little wave back, Roy who looked just as properly calm as he should with the only hint of what he'd just told her the faint shadow in his eye, and Riza lowered her eyes to the floor, silently leading the way back outside.