The night following Hughes' news was restless to say the least.
Every time Roy closed his eyes, all he could see were visions of war and a certain little blond alchemist caught up in the middle of it. The fire in his eyes was gone, beaten out of him over months of relentless torture, replaced with blind loyalty to a country that would use him to hurt and kill thousands of innocent people. There was so much blood, so much pain, too much for one innocent tiny body to possible handle.
So he laid awake, sitting on the couch across from Ed, watching the steady rise and fall of the small beaten chest before him and assuring himself over and over that he would never let that happen. Not while he was still alive, not ever, though he couldn't help but doubt himself. After all, he had sworn countless times already that he would protect Ed, and now he was laying asleep on his couch, surrounded by military officers with the same promise and bandages covering nearly every inch of him.
He had been so close to losing Ed earlier that day. So painfully close. If he hadn't stumbled upon his burned and unconscious form when he had, Ed would have been long gone; thrown in the back of some dingy car and escorted off into the depths of Drachma, where he would likely never be found.
Roy shook the thoughts out of his head, clamping his hands on either side of his head as if he could stop his rampaging mind from the outside. He couldn't afford to get lost in the what if's when he had to focus on the what now's.
What now. What could he do more to make sure that nothing bad could ever happen to his kid again.
There had to be something more, something he could do to ensure that Ed couldn't be hurt anymore, but he could think of nothing, and that made him feel utterly useless. Even if it wasn't raining.
"Sir?" Whispered a soft voice from behind him. He couldn't help but jump, seeing as he had been so deep in thought. He wrenched his head around, being met with a drowsy Riza Hawkeye, pajamas and all. She smiled faintly at him, nodding her head to the sleeping bundle on the couch. "Should we take him up to bed?"
Roy glanced over at the head of blond hair sticking out from under the blanket, imagining the layers of gauze hidden underneath. He shook his head.
"No, there's really no way for me to pick him up without hurting him." He admitted with a frown. "Plus, if he's here then I can keep an eye on him."
Riza let out a sigh through her nose, sitting next to Roy on the couch and letting her head fall onto his shoulder.
"You need to sleep, Roy." She said softly. "There are guards posted everywhere, he'll be okay."
Roy placed a hand on her back, pulling her close.
"I know, I just can't stop thinking." He sighed, laying his head on top of hers, not taking his eyes off of Edward. "He's just so goddamn small. He doesn't deserve any of this, he's already so hurt." He muttered, his quiet voice cracking with emotion.
Riza just hummed, letting him know that she was listening, but not having any words to respond with.
The two of them stayed there for a long while, not speaking, but not needing to; finding solace in each other's presence alone. At some point, they fell into a restful sleep, and Roy found that for the first time in a long time, there were finally no nightmares.
Ed had been awake for what seemed like hours, but it was impossible to know for sure, only being able to gauge the time through how much sunlight was shining in through the window.
He had spent his time awake scrutinizing his surroundings in attempts to keep himself busy, and not once did his eyes fall upon a clock. There were only shelves upon shelves of tattered old books, which Ed assumed to be alchemy tomes. Of course he couldn't forget the sight of the Colonel and the Lieutenant cuddling together on the couch across from him, fast asleep, mouths agape. It had taken everything in him not to burst out in a fit of laughter and wake the two soldiers, only resisting due to the fact that it was probably his fault that they were so tired to begin with.
He was beginning to feel like his stomach was digesting itself, and the only sounds that had filled the room for the past hour were Mustang and Hawkeye's soft snores and his stomach screaming for some cereal.
He sighed, it really sucked being an invalid. His whole body was extremely sore and throbbing, and due to the fact that his leg was already much worse from the day before, he had decided not to try standing or walking again. He also didn't feel like listening to another lecture from Havoc if he were to be caught on his feet again.
But he was still so hungry.
He sighed in exasperation, before an idea popped into his head, and a sharky grin began to form on his face.
He slunk off of the couch until he was sitting on the hardwood, and began to push himself forward with his automail arm and leg, scooching himself closer and closer to food.
The movement pulled on his healing skin and hurt his ribs, but at least he was getting food out of it.
He wondered what kind of cereal the Colonel had. Did he even have cereal? He did seem like the kind of guy who would eat dry toast and coffee everyday, being miserable the whole time and complaining about being awake. Ed could practically hear the man now.
'Oh, look at me, I'm the Colonel, I hate paperwork and I'm old and this toast is gross but I'm still eating it'
The more he thought about it, the weirder his situation became. There he was, scooting along Mustang's kitchen tile in his boxers in attempts to raid his cupboards for anything edible. It felt as if the skin on the backs of his legs would freeze to the floor, the ceramic sapping away the little body heat he could retain with two metal limbs.
He shivered as he threw open the only cupboard doors he could reach in his current position, digging through boxes of old pasta and fortified cereal for old people. He refused to eat anything with the word 'bran' in the title. After a while of rummaging, he came upon a familiar yellow box, and decided that Cheerios were good enough for him.
He pulled the box out of the cabinet and reached up to set it atop the counter. Next step was a bowl... Where would he find a bowl? He sighed and dragged his hand down his face. The bowls were probably in the higher cupboards, the ones that Ed wasn't sure he could reach even if he could stand up.
He debated waking Mustang for a moment, but decided against it, seeing as how tired the man seemed to be lately. He took a few deep breaths to ready himself, getting up onto his automail leg and leaning against the counter to steady himself. He furrowed his brow with determination, and propelled himself up onto the countertop with a huff. It certainly wasn't a nice feeling on his ribs and seared skin as he got himself into a sitting position, but at least he was able to reach the bowls now.
He pulled out a white bowl and set it down next to the box of Cheerios before pulling out a spoon from a nearby cutlery drawer.
His stomach churned with anticipation as he filled the bowl with cereal, and it was then that he realized he had forgotten a key ingredient. Milk. He cursed under his breath, debating whether or not he should just eat it dry, when he heard footsteps padding around the corner.
"Ed? What are you doing?" Chuckled a sleepy-eyed Havoc, dressed in a white undershirt and plaid pajama pants. Ed's head shot up from where he was glaring at his bowl of cereal to look at the man.
"Oh, good morning." He replied, offering him a sheepish grin. Jean just blinked owlishly at him, trying to process why Ed was in his boxers on his superior's countertop.
"Good morning. Whatcha up to?" He asked cautiously, shuffling over beside Ed and pulling down a mug from the cupboard beside his head.
"The Colonel and Hawkeye are both dead asleep in the living room and I was starving." He responded with a small shrug, eyes widening as he watched Havoc dig through the fridge. "Ooh! Could you pass the milk?" He asked eagerly.
Jean decided not to question the boy's antics, settling for a lazy nod and passing him the carton.
Ed couldn't help the grin that formed on his face as he poured the milk over the Cheerios. It was a small victory, but it felt great to have accomplished something on his own for the first time in so long. Aside from Havoc's help with the milk, of course. His breakfast that morning tasted of freedom.
Havoc sat down at the table, eyeing Ed with slight confusion as he sipped at his coffee, his consciousness slowly coming back to him with each mouthful of caffeine.
"So, care to explain why you're sitting on the counter?" Havoc inquired, smirking as he took a large sip from his mug. Ed shovelled his spoon into his mouth.
"Couldn't reach the bowls." He mumbled as he chewed, a look of defeat plastered on his face.
"Ah." He replied, smirking into his cup of coffee.
Slowly over the course of the next hour and in various stages of wakefulness, the rest of the team began to flood the room, all stopping to question Ed's position on the countertop. Ed explained his story countless times over, still devouring his cereal.
By the time Roy and Riza had woken up, Ed was on his third bowl of Cheerios.
"Hey, squirt. You eating all my cereal?" Roy teased as he trudged into the room, hair mussed and half of his white button up tucked into his trousers, the other tail hanging out.
"Maybe." Ed muttered through his mouthful of cereal, scooping more into his mouth before he even swallowed the rest. Roy furrowed his brow in thought.
"When was the last time you ate something?" He asked him, a slight edge of concern to his voice. Ed looked up to the ceiling as he recalled the events of the last few days, still chewing.
"Hm. Well, I didn't really have time for food between drug induced naps and being attacked by crazed foreigners out for my blood..." He mused, pursing his lips as he thought. "So, around two days I think." He decided, drinking down the last bit of milk in his bowl.
"You haven't eaten in two days?" Roy breathed, no trace of sleep showing through his astonishment and concern. Ed shrugged, hopping off of the counter onto his automail foot.
"Guess not. I was wondering why I was so hungry." He chuckled non-chalantly, holding onto the edge of the counter and hopping to the sink to rinse his bowl. Roy sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder and taking the bowl from his metal hand, placing it in the sink for him. Ed glared at him with distaste. "I could have done it myself." He grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Roy.
"I know, Ed. But just because you can do something, doesn't always mean you should." He told him, wrapping his arms around the boy and helping him limp over to the kitchen table. Ed rolled his eyes at him as he sank into a chair in between Havoc and Hawkeye.
"How are you feeling, Edward?" Riza asked, absentmindedly stirring her coffee.
"Eh, I'm alright. Bored out of my mind." He complained, sitting his head in his hand. "Any news on the people who got me into this mess?" He wondered, looking around at the surrounding military officers with tired eyes.
"Well, Hughes is gonna try to interrogate the three we arrested again today, see if he can get anything else out of them." Roy replied, sitting down at the head of the table and setting down his coffee. "They've been pretty tight-lipped so far, but hopefully they'll start cracking soon." He sighed, closing his eyes. "And trust me, if Maes finds anything, he will let us know." He mused, recalling the man's lack of respect for personal space.
"So, basically what you're saying is that I'm stuck here until someone figures out whoever's in charge of this whole thing, arrests them and everyone else involved, all while my two remaining limbs are out of commission?" He summed up, the bags under his eyes seeming to grow with every word he spoke.
"Sorry, kid." Was all that Roy could think to say. He wished he could provide some comfort to the kid, but knew that nothing he could say would make him feel any better.
Ed just groaned loudly and let his head fall onto the table so hard it caused the coffee in Roy's mug to swirl and nearly spill over.
"Easy, chief. Is it that bad spending time with us?" Havoc teased, a fake look of hurt on his face, one hand over his heart and the other rubbing up and down on Ed's back. Ed tipped his head up so that his chin rested against the tabletop.
"It is when I can't move." He grumbled with a scowl. Havoc chuckled with a sympathetic grin, patting him gently on the back.
"Sorry, chief. Not much I can do about that, I'm afraid." He confessed, bringing his arms back to lean against the table. Ed turned his head so that his cheek was pressed against the wood.
"When will Al be here? He said he'd bring me stuff to do." He asked, looking around the table, nearly chuckling at the sight of all the soldiers in their pajamas.
"Alphonse will be here within the hour." Roy assured him. "If you want I've got plenty of books you can read, they're mostly alchemy but there's a few love novels Hughes snuck in there to piss me off." He offered, rolling his eyes. Ed perked up at the mention of books.
"Really? Take me to them." He demanded, holding his only arm out for someone to pick him up in a surprisingly childlike manner. Roy couldn't help but chuckle as he scooped the boy up. Though it was as gentle as he could, he still felt him tense up in his arms and watched as he tried not to wince. Roy unconsciously held him tighter, wishing more than anything that he could take the pain away.
As softly as he possibly could, he set Ed down on his couch, which luckily happened to be the perfect size for him. As he unfurled into the cushions, he visibly screwed up his face in pain, though Roy could see that he was trying to hide it from him. He frowned, picking up nearby pillows and putting them under his legs and behind his back, not caring that Ed was glaring at him the whole time. If he couldn't take the pain away, he was going to do whatever he could to make him as comfortable as possible.
Once he was satisfied that Ed was indeed comfortable, he wandered over to one of his many bookshelves to find something that Ed would find entertaining. It was a bit difficult to find something that wouldnt just bore the kid, considering he was a prodigy and all. Although Roy had a considerable amount of alchemical knowledge, it was mostly centered around flame alchemy, and it was nothing compared to the countless days and nights that Edward Elric had his nose in a book.
He trailed his finger along the spines lined up on the shelf, drawing a visible track through the dust that had accumulated on them. Maybe he should read more often.
Maybe he would have time to read if it wasn't for all of his paperwork.
He eventually landed on an old advanced alchemy volume, the edges of the leather book jacket frayed with age and excessive use. He pulled it off the shelf, brushing off the thick layer of grime and resisting the urge to cough through the dust cloud.
He finished wiping the book off with his sleeve before placing it on Edward's lap, who was eyeing him with poorly hidden mirth over the less than spotless condition of his house.
"Hey, I've got no time for cleaning when I have to watch over your sorry butt." He teased, ruffling up Ed's hair before dropping into a nearby recliner with a sigh.
Ed side eyed him, still vaguely amused as he blew the messy bangs out of his face and threw open the front cover of the book. He quickly skimmed over the introductory paragraph and went to turn the page. He swiped his metal finger against the paper, fumbling and fussing with it for a long while, but without the grip he had with flesh digits, it was nearly impossible to get the page to flip.
Roy watched the kid struggle for a minute or two, finding himself stuck between pity and rapture. Eventually he decided to give the kid a hand, leaning over the armrest and turning the page with ease.
Ed glared at him, shooting him a look that screamed 'don't patronize me.' Roy was at least glad that the boy was still acting like himself, even in his condition. It was then that an idea came into his head, and his lips curled up into a smirk.
He scurried away into his bedroom, finding the calendar that Hughes had given him once as an 'unrelated gift' a few days after he had missed a lunch date with him. He rarely used it, but kept it up in his room to humour the man.
He pulled it off of the wall and picked off the bit of poster tack that had adhered it. He kneaded it between his fingers a bit as he padded back over to Ed's side, finding him still struggling with the book. He knelt next to him.
"Let me see your hand." He requested, holding out his palm. Ed squinted at him in suspicion, setting the book down and warily passing the man his metal appendage.
Roy smiled as he took the hand in his. Ed watched on with curious eyes as he pressed the poster tack to the tip of his finger, looking up to Roy with a raised brow.
"Voila!" Roy exclaimed proudly, gesturing to his work of improvisation. He nodded to the book in Ed's lap. "Try and turn the pages now."
Ed's eyebrows shot to his forehead as he caught on to the plan, smirking proudly as he flipped a few pages with ease.
"Wow, you're smart when you want to be." He joked, continuing his flipping and seemingly impressed. Roy rolled his eyes as he stood up from the floor.
"I'll take that as a thank you."
Roy made his way over to finally sit back down in his chair, when there was a polite knock on the door. He sighed with a grimace, really beginning to miss the days where he was alone in his house and was able to relax, though he couldn't really complain. At least he was stuck with people he loved and trusted.
He went through the extensive process of unlocking the door before cautiously swinging it open, even though he was pretty sure he knew who would be on the other side of the door.
"Good morning, Colonel." Alphonse greeted warmly, though it was strangely followed by a nervous-sounding chuckle. He opened the door fully to allow the boy in, not missing how much heavier his footsteps sounded. He assumed it was because the suit of armour was filled with books and more of his brother's belongings.
"Good morning, Alphonse. How are you?" He replied, still facing the door as he relocked it. Al scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Actually, I'm not really sure. I guess this is a good thing, but it's also a bad thing, truth is I don't really know how to feel about it, I was hoping you would know more, you know?" He rambled on, wringing his leather gauntlets together. Roy held up a hand to him.
"Woah, you need to slow down, Al. What happened?" He asked, his concern building. Al let out a tinny sigh.
"Well, this happened." He replied, opening his chestplate.
Sitting inside his armour was a man with short jet-black hair that covered his head and trailed down his face into a beard. He was tied up with a generous amount of rope, though that didn't stop him from squirming fruitlessly against his bindings. His silver eyes burned with fury as he spat and murmured unintelligibly through the fabric gag tied around his head, though Roy could guess it was a few choice words that would put a sailor to shame. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"Shit."