Roy couldn't help but watch as Ed's face was ironed of it's creases and furrows, his expression smoothed by the whims of sleep.
He had long since laid him back down in bed, his energy utterly and completely drained from his earlier fit of panic. Now, he was curled up under an excessive amount of blankets and propped up against what may have been perhaps one too many pillows- but Roy wasn't taking any chances when it came to the boy's comfort.
He looked almost peaceful- that is, if you ignored the clunky splint encasing his nose and the sickly bruises that crawled out from underneath it, spreading over his face and looking entirely foreign on the kid's otherwise flawless and youthful skin.
Roy knew better than to indulge in the naïve notion of peace when it was quite obvious that Ed had to be struggling. Even if he appeared to be calm outwardly, the truth could be heard in the slight hitch in his breath before every exhale, the light and airy whimpers that escaped his throat that could be passed off as nonsensical sleep talk to the oblivious ear, the flush on his cheeks and the barely there sheen of sweat on his brow that spoke of hidden pain so unrelenting that he wasn't relieved of it even in sleep.
Of course, having seen the mangled state the boy was in, the bruised and broken bones and the slice, diced, and burned skin, pain was undoubtedly riddling his small being- even if his stubborn ways would never let him say it aloud.
It was still so hard to accept.
Roy wished he didn't have to think about just how much the kid must be hurting, just how much time he spent in his head trying to block out the agony of being beaten and every second of fleeting panic that came along with it, every sparking nerve that never allowed him rest. The longer Roy dwelled on it, the more it felt as if his stomach was wringing itself together and tearing itself apart, but he couldn't simply turn a blind eye to it all- no matter how tempting blissful ignorance may be.
He couldn't let the kid suffer alone. He wouldn't.
He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and letting a small frown tug at the corners of his mouth as he eyed the paperwork strewn carelessly across the desk like the carcasses of leaves against the autumn earth. Such a usual and commonplace sight to see that held such a morbid undertone, warning those careful enough to notice of inevitable storms to come.
Roy Mustang had always hated paperwork.
He ran a hand through his unkempt hair and silently let himself revel in the relief of knowing that he had filled out every thing he could already, feeling a little nauseous upon realizing how easily the words of Ed's trauma blended in to the surroundings, so easily passed by without a second glance.
He would never admit to the boy how excruciating it was hearing the horrific details of what had gone down behind closed doors, how much it hurt to find out he had been brutally caned for simply taking a shower- a goddamn shower.
God, if only he had paid more attention, if only he had realized sooner.
He stood rather abruptly from his chair, pushing through the bright wave passing through his vision from the sudden movement of his exhausted body and began gathering up the booklets and documents, ignoring the urge to throw the sheets across the room and burn them to oblivion.
No, those papers were more important than he cared to admit, and even if they were painful to think about, they promised justice- sweet, sweet justice that Edward so desperately deserved.
He brushed Ed's bangs over his head, feeling a twinge of sympathy upon registering the heat of a pain-induced fever on his skin. So albeit reluctantly, he dragged his aching body and soul out of Maes' house, trusting his best friend to take care of his troublesome charge and hopefully not coddle him to death before he came back.
It was time to start getting Ed his life back, one step at a time.
Xxxxxxxxxx
Roy stood outside his office for a long while, not really knowing just how much time he spent just staring at the doors, tracing all of the scuffs and chips in the wood from better days- days when Ed wasn't afraid to kick in a door and make his presence known.
The team needed to know. They would find out sooner or later, and they deserved to know just what was going on with Edward and why Roy had called in sick the day before, even if he was obviously healthy.
They were all terribly worried, he could see it in their eyes- even if standard military professionalism didn't allow them to express it openly.
They needed to know, but he just didn't know how to break it to them.
Taking a deep breath in attempts to steel himself, he opened the door and stepped inside.
The general buzz of office life stopped rather suddenly, the quiet chatter and scratching of pens on paper halting as everyone stopped to look up at Roy.
"Oh, good afternoon, Colonel." Riza greeted, her eyes widening slightly in surprise before narrowing again in suspicion. "I thought you were sick."
Roy shook his head with a tired smile, rubbing the heel of his palm against his face and feeling slightly guilty about having lied to her the day before.
"No, it's not me, lieutenant. I was taking care of Ed." He admitted, sinking into his chair behind his desk with a heavy sigh.
That certainly piqued everyone's attention, as they all say up straighter at the mention of Edward, confirming they had indeed been worried about the boy.
"Ed? Is he still sick?" Havoc asked with his brows pinched together in worry, absently chewing on the inside of his lip as if silently quelling the urge to smoke.
Roy sighed, his heart sitting like lead in his chest as he struggled to gather the words.
"Well, yes and no." He started, leaning back in his chair. "He's not sick exactly," He added, tasting the words sitting in the back of his mouth and knowing he'd never get rid of the bitter taste of them. "He's hurt, pretty bad."
For a long moment, the only response to his words was a silent stillness filling the room with it's weight. It was Havoc who finally broke the silence.
"What?" He breathed, his voice thin with shock. "What happened? Is he okay?" He shifted in his seat to look intently at Roy, the rest of the team following his lead with their stares burning into him with worry.
Roy turned away from them, his eyes finding solace in the busy life of Central going on just outside the window.
The normality of it all made him nauseous.
"Edward isn't doing very well right now, as I'm sure you've all observed lately." He began explaining, dodging around words that would reveal the severity of it all or go beyond Edward's personal boundaries. "I can't tell you very much as it's not my place to do so, all I can say is that Ed has been in an unstable and threatening environment lately, his injuries aren't critical, and he's safe now and being taken care of. Anything else is up to Edward to share."
The office was terrible quiet for a few excruciating moments as the team mulled over the news. Roy didn't dare look them in the eye, knowing his professionalism would inevitably crumble if he did so.
Finally, there was a shuddering sigh from Jean, who sank his head into his hands for a second before crossing them over his chest.
"Who hurt him, Colonel?"
The question was quiet and filled with veiled concern, yet sharpened in a way that promised pain to whoever was responsible for hurting Ed.
It was no surprise, really. Jean Havoc had a protective streak a mile wide, especially when it came to Edward. He had a major soft spot for the kid, and would likely tear Hohenheim to pieces if he had any idea what he had done to Edward. However, while he did enjoy the idea of the man's painful demise, he wanted to see him rot in prison first.
"I'm afraid I can't disclose that information without Edward's permission." He replied honestly, noting the dangerous glint in Jean's eyes. The man didn't say anything else, but his thoughts were clear in his tight expression alone. There was no hiding his murderous rage.
Sensing the sensitive aura in the room, no one else on the team prodded any further, although they were looking rather worn with worry. He felt a twinge of guilt for withholding so much information from them, but he knew it wouldn't help even if he did go on, in fact, it would probably only worsen their stress.
Roy let out a long breath, standing from his chair and really feeling the weight on his knees as they creaked with the effort and his entire body begged him for a nap.
He padded lightly over to the door, feeling everyone's eyes trained on his back. With a wane smile, he turned to see them.
"Just... don't worry yourselves too much, okay? Ed's strong, he'll be okay. He just needs some time."
At that point, he wasn't sure if he was trying to comfort them or himself, but their faces lifted slightly at the notion nonetheless. He could only hope his words would end up being true. He turned back towards the door.
"Ed and I will be staying at the Hughes' house for the time being, if any of you need anything."
With a few drained goodbyes, he ducked out of the office and made his way through the winding hallways and out of the building.
He got into his car blindly, his body moving on autopilot as he zoned out completely, removing himself from the world so as to escape from the whirlwind that was his mind.
He somehow managed to get himself across town without crashing into anything or running any red lights, and found himself pulling into the parking lot of a building he never thought he'd be in.
He walked in, trying desperately to stop his knees and hands from trembling as he approached the service desk. A rather young woman sat behind it, giving him a careworn smile that managed to help settle him back to reality a little.
"Hello, Sir." She greeted warmly, looking away from the note-filled folder in front of her. "How may I help you?"
Roy swallowed thickly, feeling anxiety washing over him as he stood there, the paperwork burning a hole through his jacket.
This was all so wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He shouldn't be here, Ed shouldn't be paralyzed with pain in Maes' guest bedroom, he shouldn't jump at loud noises and he shouldn't flinch whenever someone moves too fast.
Yet here he was, completely and utterly lost.
He took a deep breath, but it did nothing to quell his dread.
"I need to report a case of child abuse."