Wht comes next? A for angst! And C for CONCERNED ROY!

He was still tired, even though they'd slept in until 8am today.

Winry chattered happily and made him promise to stop by around noon, so she could make sure the fit of his arm was correct before she connected everything.

He sent Alphonse to the library, taking advantage of walk to Central to smoke a cigarette before he was discarding it, walking through the gates and heading into work.

He'd woken up three times during the night and each time he'd had a hard time falling back asleep. He didn't remember why he'd woken up- he only had a vague sense of dread and an inability to roll over and close his eyes again. Eventually he'd managed to shut his eyes and drift off- he found it was easier fi he focused on Winry's sleeping form in the other bed in the room, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath as she slept. It didn't really make it easier to drop off, but it stopped his gears from spinning quite so fast.

He strode into the office, content to sit down at his desk and get started on more pointless work.

"Good morning, Edward. How are you?" Hawkeye asked, cheerful as ever.

"Fine." there wasn't much bite behind his voice- his morning cigarette had managed to give him a nicotine buzz and starve off the static that seemed to invade his brain every moment he wasn't actively fighting it.

"Before you get too absorbed in your work- the Colonel wants to see you."

"Right now?" Ed blinked, trying to school his expression.

Hawkeye nodded.

Ed stifled the urge to sigh. "Thanks for telling me." he stood with an unseen weight on his shoulders, trudging across the office and kicking open the door to the Colonel's office, hand in his pants pocket.

"Fullmetal. Good to see you." Roy smiled at the the teen, despite Ed's obviously hostile demeanor.

"Come over to my desk, Fullmetal."

Ed glowered but did as he was told, approaching his superior's desk.

"Empty your pockets."

"What?" Ed blinked.

"You heard me. I said empty your pockets onto my desk."

"This is an invasion of privacy! You can't do that!" Ed protested.

"I'm your superior officer, and I can, and will. Now do as I say." Roy's tone left no room for argument.

Ed snarled, rummaging around in his pockets with his casted hand and pulling out his state alchemist's watch, a few paper clips, some lint, and twenty seven cens and slapping them onto the table.

"And the other pocket, Fullmetal."

Ed glared daggers but complied, laying out the keys to his dorm room, a lighter, a pen, and a napkin he'd scrawled some alchemy notes on.

Roy wordlessly reached across the table and picked the lighter out of the pile, tossing it into his desk drawer. "You won't be needing this. You're not smoking anymore."

"Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?"

"Pull up a chair, Ed. We're going to communicate like civilized adults."

Ed cursed Mustang up and down, but flung himself into a chair like he was told.

"I'm your superior officer, so you're going to listen to me well. You're forbidden from smoking. I've talked to all the shops nearby, they won't sell to you even if you do flash your watch, and if I catch you with cigarettes again you'll be restricted to Central as punishment."

"What the hell is your problem!? You can't tell me what the hell to do!" Ed was on his feet and shouting openly, now, fist clenched.

"Last time I checked, I was your commanding officer, so I can." Roy said simply. "Now sit down. I want to know how you're doing, Fullmetal. How's your arm? Does it hurt?" Roy nodded to the boy's cast.

"My damn arm is fine." Ed muttered, flopping heavily back down into the wooden chair and staring at Mustang with undisguised hatred.

"How are you doing, though?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!?" Ed snapped.

"You and I both know damn well what it means, Fullmetal. You're not alright- and you haven't been ever since you came back from the border. I'm giving you an opportunity to talk about it- and I hope you'll take it for both our sakes."

"Oh, is that what this is?" Ed snarled, looking unimpressed. "Fine. You want me to spill my guts to you, I will. I'm fine, perfectly damn fine, except all my friends are dead, and I'm considered old enough to go out and kill in your name but I can't even have a goddamn cigarette! So I'm just peachy, thanks for asking!"

"I didn't assign you that mission, Ed! I never would've sent you out there, that officer made sure you were alone and exploited you!" Mustang was on his feet as well now.

"So what if he did!? I still killed people, that's my burden to bear!"

"None of this was your fault, Ed-"

"Shut the hell up and leave me alone! I want to fucking resign! The only reason I haven't is because I can't condemn Alphonse to a life in that damn suit of armor! SHUT! UP!" Ed's voice rose an octave- his eyes had taken on a ferocious and wild look, and Mustang wasn't sure if the boy was about to physically attack him or burst into tears.

All at once, the emotion drained from Ed's face. The kid looked like a robot, or a doll- but he slammed up some sort of a wall in his mind and his expression- all that desperation, all that fear- was gone. He went from gesturing animatedly to standing statue still, hand resting easily at his side.

"So." His golden eyes were smooth as an undisturbed lake's surface, bright as the reflecting morning sun. But his voice was frighteningly hollow. "Do you have another case for me, or not?" his voice was shockingly even.

"Do I... what?" Mustang stuttered, shocked at the sudden change in demeanor.

"Do you... have... a case... for me? Or did you just call me in here to bother me?" Ed paused between the first few words on purpose, as though he was making fun of Roy.

"I... no, I don't have a case for you. Where is this even coming from?"

"One of the lies I tell myself to help me get through the day is that I joined this military to help people. If I have a case I can pretend I'm doing some good. Anyways, I have a fuck ton of paperwork to do, so... yeah." Ed turned, heading for the door.

Roy stared after him. One of the lies to kid told himself? He'd known Ed had been considering resigning, but he was slightly terrified of the glimpse he'd gotten of Ed in that moment- raw, unadulterated hatred and fear. And then... it'd been gone.

Roy sighed, slumping down and resting his head on his arms on his desk. He just had to keep trying, and hope that Edward would open up to him. Because otherwise- the kid was going to destroy himself.

Ed, for his part, went about the day much like usual. Whenever he had a piece of paperwork he'd never seen before, he set it to an ever-growing pile on the corner of his desk and did his best.

Alphonse chattered on happily, and when lunch time came Ed was quick to duck out and head to the automail shop.

Winry was one of the better parts of his day, if he was honest. He was tired- he'd woken up twice last night, sweating and not sure why. When he couldn't stop his gears from turning, watching her sleep in the next bed over- the rise and fall of her chest, the relaxed way she slept- helped him slow down his mental sprint to a walk and just rest for a moment.

Winry triumphantly had his arm attached within the hour.

"Let's go back to the office and show it off! It's the best one I've made yet!" Winry said, looking tired but happy with herself.

Ed never could deny her anything. As much as he hated talking to people, he couldn't turn her down, and they all went back to the office together, Winry beaming and babbling about the upgrades she'd given him the whole way.

"Hey Chief- looking good." Havoc smiled at them, the ever-present cigarette that was normally present in his mouth missing. "That's a nice arm you got there."

"I slaved over it for days." Winry said, beaming.

She turned, looking at Ed with those bright blue eyes. "Ed- can I show them all the upgrades I did? Please?" her hands hovered over his new arm hopefully, though she didn't touch him since he hadn't given her permission, and she squirmed eagerly, eyes dancing...

He really couldn't say no to her. "Fine." He slid his arm out of the sleeve of his coat, his sleeveless black top revealing the new metal arm in all its glory. "But most of it will probably go over everyone's heads- they're not all gear-heads like you."

Winry stepped over and took hold of his arm excitedly, starting to babble about the reinforced metals, the shock absorbing system, lubrication, and accelerated response mechanism, as well as the heavy-duty gears she'd put in this time.

Even though she was excited and giving everyone the full tour- even retracting the paneling at one point to show off the inner-workings- she kept her voice relatively quiet and her movements slow. Ed found himself relaxing slightly at her touch- the ever-present tension in his shoulders seemed to dull slightly at the sight of her, and even though he was unable to feel happiness, it radiated off of her and gave him some contentment...

"Well, I suppose I should get going if I want to catch the next train out." Winry looked at the clock. It was a little after three.

Ed frowned. "You really want to take a train home now? You're exhausted."

"Well yeah, but I've been away from home for awhile. The sooner I get back, the sooner I can rest..."

"That's a load of crap. You can rest here. Stay one more night at the dorms and get a good night's sleep, get the first train in the morning- you look like you're about to fall over." Ed reached into his pocket, grabbing the key to his dorm room. "I may have to work, but you don't. Al can take you back home and you can take a nap. I'll get dinner on my way home."

"You're sure?" Winry looked surprised.

"Of course I'm sure. Now go get some sleep before a breeze blows you over." Ed thrust the key into her hands. "You'll walk her back, right, Al?"

"Sure thing, brother!"

Ed watched her go, and stared out the door even after they were both gone from sight for a moment, before he was sitting back down at his desk and sighing, screwing up his face and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Now that Winry was gone, he remembered he'd skipped lunch to get his automail reattached, and while having a new arm was a huge relief, he was becoming more and more aware of the craving for a cigarette and the gnawing hunger in his stomach by the minute.

An intern rushed into the room with some urgent papers at four thirty, right before they were going to close up shop, and the quiet office noises of pens scratching on paper was gone as glass shattered.

Ed was on the ground under his desk, hands clapped together.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't even see that vase!" the intern gushed, looking embarrassed. There was the scraping of a chair pushing back, footsteps- not towards him, it was Hawkeye, Hawkeye was approaching...

"It's fine, miss. Don't trouble yourself." after a few more muttered apologizes, the woman quickly left. There was more footsteps, this time coming towards him, and Ed counted them, saw his chair scrape back.

It was Hawkeye, crouched down in front of him. "Hello, Edward. Are you alright down here?"

"..." Ed paused, tongue darting out to lick his lips nervously. "Yeah. It's fine. I'm fine. I just... dropped my pencil." he was lying through his teeth, and they both knew it. Hawkeye gave him a sympathetic smile. "Alright. Let me know if you need help finding it."

And she was gone.

How'd he end up down here under the desk, anyways? Glass shattering...

Voices screaming. Curses, groans, grunts of pain, the windows of a burning cabin blowing out one by one from the heat, pressing both hands to a wound that wouldn't stop bleeding, watching the light trickle out of Ben's eyes as the blood pooled...

Shaking. Why were his hands shaking?

He bit his lip until he tasted copper to try and bring himself back to the moment. His heart was pounding, but this time, it wasn't the pleasant buzz of a cigarette, he felt like... he felt like he needed to fight someone. He knew he was breathing, but it didn't feel like it- it felt like no matter how much he inflated his lungs, it wasn't enough air, and he was suffocating, just suffocating down here in the dark...

A door opened at the rear of the office. Mustang's door.

"What was that sound a few minutes ago? Did something break?"

"Yeah, it was a vase, Sir." Furey's voice came.

"Huh. That's a shame. Where's Fullmetal?"

"Sir, step into your office for a moment..." Hawkeye said simply, and he heard their footsteps and the door shutting.

Great. They were talking, now. Talking about him. And how he was hiding under his desk like a little kid.

A small, furry form approached him- it was Black Hayate.

The dog strode over to Ed happily, tail wagging. A wet nose nudged his chest, and the dog flopped over onto it's side, begging for tummy rubs and thumping it's tail on the floor, panting happily.

Ed had never been a fan of pets- never really had the time- but he reached over, feeling the creature's heart beat as he rubbed its belly and listening to the creature's tail thump the ground.

Slowly, his hands stopped shaking and he was able to carefully crawl out from under his desk, forcing himself to sit back in his chair. It was quarter to five, now, he only had to last fifteen more minutes before he could get out of here...

He forced himself to sit in his chair. Hayate curled at his feet- it was as if the creature knew he needed to be reassured, and he appreciated it.

As soon as the clock struck five he was on his feet, throwing on his red coat over his uniform jacket and taking off for the door, not even noticing the broke pieces of vase still on the floor as he raced out.

He ran three blocks until he was sure nobody was going to bother him or demand an explanation before he stopped to catch his breath, leaning against the wall.

He needed a cigarette. But Mustang had talked to all the shops nearby, supposedly...

Besides, if Mustang made him empty his pockets every morning, he was going to need something he could hide better than a whole pack of cigarettes.

He let his feet take him wherever they wanted, not really paying much attention to where he went.

Before he knew it, he'd walked ten blocks to a sketchy place- Ling had taken him here once. It was an apothecary- like a bar or a candy shop, but for weird Xingese people who wanted herbs and teas and stuff. There were jars full of spices of every color and odor, and Ed ducked inside. This place was also an opium den, from his understanding- he didn't want hard drugs, he just wanted nicotine and he had a feeling this place would sell to him without asking any questions.

True to his suspicions, the young Xingese girl at the counter, who couldn't have been older than sixteen herself, smiled at him. "Can I help you?"

"Do you have any cigarettes? I know you have opium, but I don't want that- I just want tobacco, nicotine..."

"We have some. Hand rolled, two-hundred cens a pack..." She pulled out a few boxes.

Ed paused. That was a lot of cash. If he had to buy a pack every two or three days, Mustang was sure to notice, and he'd have to figure out how to hide them somewhere other than his pockets if Mustang kept up his surprise searches...

"Something wrong? You look like you're thinking very hard." the girl remarked.

Ed nodded slowly. "Yeah. I am. So- I really like the buzz I get from cigarettes, helps me calm down. Except- I can't really smoke at work, and I can't carry a pack of cigarettes. You got anything I can hide better? Something I don't have to smoke, or..."

The girl beamed. "We do, actually." she ducked behind the counter, coming up with several small tins and what looked to be mints a box of bandages.

"We have chew, or snuss." she opened the package to reveal some finely ground brown material- truthfully, it looked like stringy coffee grounds. "This is chewing tobacco. You take a pinch and place it between your gun and lip. It gets absorbed into your circulation just like a cigarette, but it's faster and more discrete, no smoke, no smell. Easier to hide from people and the same feeling."

"Do you eat it?"

The girl wrinkled her nose, shaking her head rapidly. "No no no. Only spit it out when you're done. Still, same buzz, so I'm told." she grinned. "I like cigarettes myself, though. We also have nicotine patches." she nodded towards the box of bandages. "Like a bandage, but it gets nicotine absorbed through your skin. This doesn't give the same rush, though- it's mostly for helping people quit smoking."

"I'll take the snuss." Ed paid for the purchase, pocketing it and heading out.

He couldn't help but grin slightly to himself as he strode back to his dorm. That'd show that bastard Mustang for trying to make him quit smoking.

Winry was dead asleep when he reached the dorms, and Al had gone off to feed his cats- he locked himself in the bathroom and smoke his last cigarette, surprisingly at peace knowing he had a tin of chew to handle his nicotine craving for the next day. Maybe it'd help him if he got shaky again, help him mellow out.

He was so lost in the cigarette he didn't even hear Winry get up until she knocked on the door. "Ed? You home?"

"Huh- yeah." he quickly flushed his cigarette, pocketing his snuss and turning on the water to make it sound like he was washing his hands.

"Oh. Did you get dinner?" she asked through the door.

"Shit! I forgot, I'm sorry, Win..." he opened the bathroom door to find her standing there, waiting for him.

"It's okay. We can go get something together." She gave him that smile she had, before she was wrinkling her nose. "You should quit hanging out with that guy who smokes so much at the office. You smell like a pack of cigarettes."

"Haha, yeah, I guess you're right." Ed smiled. "What do you want for dinner?"

The next morning was dismal- not only because it was raining, but because they got off to see Winry off on the seven am train.

She waved happily before she was boarding the train back home, and Ed tried to hide his somber mood, but to be honest- it sucked.

He'd only woken up once last night, but he hadn't been able to stop his heart from pounding. Just watching her sleep managed to calm him down, though, and he'd gotten three more hours of sleep before they'd had to get going. Now, though, with Winry heading back to Risembool and a little brother with enough weight on his shoulders for Ed to bother him with his own problems, Ed didn't want to bother him. Still, he was struggling to find anything to look forward to, and his fingers twitched nervously. He was looking forward to trying his chewing tobacco out.

Mustang was actually working for once, there was a slight flurry of activity from inside his office, and Ed managed to stave off his craving until ten in the morning, when he ducked out and locked himself in the bathroom stall, shaking off his platform boot and withdrawing the tin of chew.

He took a pinch the size of a large marble in hand, tucking it between his gum and lower lip, far enough back it was hidden by his molars. He pushed it into place with his tongue, and instantly, his mouth was on fire- it was intense enough to make his eyes water and gums burn, saliva filling his mouth for a moment.

He forced himself to swallow the mouthful of spit, breathing deeply. It burned like he'd suddenly eaten an entire mouthful of wintergreen mints- his throat was an odd sort of cold that only happened when you quickly drink water after chewing spearmint gum.

It took a minute or two, but the burning gradually lessed until ti was no more annoying than havign a wad of gum tucked into his cheek.

His heartbeat picked up, the familiar buzz of nicotine settling into his limbs.

He bounced his leg excitedly and continued to breeze through his paperwork, satisfied with the nicotine buzz.

He was even happier because Mustang hadn't bothered him with some random surprise inspection. Maybe the man would leave him alone this morning.

He was half hour into his dip of tobacco and enjoying it greatly when Mustang strode out of the office, sighing. "Well that was a fun morning. Fullmetal- step into my office."

Shit. Ed stood and followed, forcing himself to keep a neutral expression. If he had a deer in the headlights look, Mustang would know something was off, would know he was dipping...

Was it visible in his mouth? He was pretty sure he didn't have enough stuffed in his cheek to make it visible, but just in case, he used his tongue to pry it out from between his gum and cheek and held it in his mouth.

He approached the desk, as was routine.

Mustang had sat down and nodded at him. "You know the drill, Fullmetal. Empty your pockets."

Reflexively, he swallowed. It was the nerves, damn nerves- he felt the wad of chew slip down his throat before he could stop it, and he grimaced but managed not to audibly cough. t least now Mustang couldn't check his mouth for it, right?

He emptied his pockets, and Mustang, finding nothing but a few cenz and a pen, nodded. "Alright. You can head back to your desk."

Ed thanked his lucky stars that Mustang wouldn't be interrogating him about his feelings this morning and scampered back to his desk, trying to ignore the way his stomach was starting to churn uncomfortably.

The pleasant, focused buzz in his head turned to a dull pounding, and he tried to take slow, measured breaths to fight through as the nausea reared its ugly head again.

The Xingese girl had said not to swallow it. Now he knew why. God, he felt like utter shit. How had it only been ten minutes since he'd left Mustang's office- it felt like an eternity?

He pushed it to the side, breezing through the next three documents on his desk before he had to pause. The pounding in his head was worse, now, he was so dizzy- his heart was pounding, and the words seemed to be twitching and jumping around on the page...

He was sweating. Why the hell was he sweating? Cigarettes didn't make him sweat. He took a moment to rest his forehead on his desk, taking a breath and stopping mid-inhale as his stomach clenched. Oh shit.

"Ed?"

He picked his head up, swallowing down the bile that licked at the base of his throat and trying to keep his trembling hands from being noticeable. Maybe if he just stayed focused, he could fight through- he couldn't keep feeling this awful all day, right?

"Did you hear me, Edward? I asked if you were okay. You don't look well." Hawkeye repeated, looking at him with concern.

"I'm fine." he managed to choke out, before he clamped his mouth shut. He was so dizzy, he was burning hot, but his body was trembling like he was freezing cold. His stomach lunched and he clenched his teeth, willing himself to keep still and bear the discomfort.

He opened his eyes. Everything ws still vibrating. He needed to calmly get up and go to the restroom, before he vomited all over his desk.

"You sure you're alright, Ed? You're sweating." Hawkeye observed patiently.

If he opened his mouth, he was going to make a mess.

So instead he stood, pure willpower keeping him from giving in. He stumbled out of the office and into the hallway, glad the men's room wasn't far down the hall.

It took him a few seconds of frantic pawing at the door handle before he managed to grab it, because everything was still vibrating, and he stumbled into the room and the first stall, barely managing to hit his knees before he was gagging, stomach contracting against his will and bringing up the meager breakfast he'd managed to get down his morning into the porcelain bowl.

As soon as Ed darted out the door, Hawkeye looked across the room at Havoc and Furey. "Go after him. He looked like he was about to faint."

Both men didn't need to be told twice- they heard Ed retching through the door before Havoc was stepping into the bathroom, Furey not far behind him.

"Cheif? You okay in here?" Havoc asked, approaching the first stall.

The poor kid was on his knees, and he spit a mouthful of vomit into the bowl and gasped for breath raggedly.

Havoc swore slightly- the kid was a mess.

"Furey- go tell Hawkeye the Cheif is sick..."

"I'm Fi-ack!" Ed's hoarse protest was cut off as his shoulders pitched forward with another heave, his abdominal muscles contracting against his will as a mouthful of stomach acid splashed onto the porcelin bowl.

"I don't think you are though, Chief." Havoc approached carefully. Ed hadn't even had time to lock the stall door behind him, and Havoc stepped closer to the kid, wanting to help him but not wanting to frighten him.

"I'm gonna grab your ponytail and hold your hair out of your face, alright kid?"

Ed didn't have the opportunity to reply, pitching forward with another gag that only served to make stomach acid lick the base of his throat, but it felt like he could hardly breathe...

"It's alright Chief." Havoc had managed to crouch behind the kid, sweeping the blond ponytail and bangs out of his sweaty face with one hand and rubbing the kid's back with the other. "Just let it out. It'll be over soon."

Ed coughed, trying to clear his throat as a wet retch escaped him, before there was the sound of liquid hitting liquid as another mouthful of bile hit the toilet water in front of him.

BREAK

"Is he alright, Furey? Where's Havoc?" Hawkeye asked as Furey jogged back into the office less than a minute later.

"He's in the men's room. Chief is sick right now."

"Who's sick right now?" Roy emerged from his office, wondering what was going on.

"Edward is, Sir. He wasn't looking good, he ran out of the office, and he's currently getting sick in the bathroom."

Roy frowned. "He was fine fifteen minutes ago." he said, remembering how Ed had quietly glowered at him as he emptied his pockets to prove he didn't have cigarettes. The kid had been uncharacteristically quiet, but he hadn't looked ill.

"Well he is now. He's throwing up pretty bad in there." Furey said simply.

Roy tried to keep the concern off his face, nodding to Furey. "Right. Have Havoc bring him to my office when he's presentable, I want to have a look at him. Decide if he needs a doctor."

Furey nodded, ducking back out of the room and down the hallway to the men's room.

It'd been a few minutes, and he stepped back into the men's room to find Ed resting his forehead on the toilet seat, breathing heavily, and Havoc still sitting behind him, keeping his hair pulled back and rubbing his back slightly.

"You think you're done, Chief?"

"Y-yeah." Ed rasped, shakily getting to his feet.

Havoc flushed the toilet, slinging an arm around the kid's shoulders- Ed didn't look steady enough on his feet for him to trust the kid yet.

He led Ed to the sink, and the kid turned on the water, washing out his mouth and splashing water on his face. He was pale as a sheet and still shaking, and Havoc frowned. "How long you been sick for, Chief?"

"I-I'm not sick." Ed protested, stumbling out the door and into the hall. Havoc easily caught up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him as Furey followed behind him.

"I don't know if I believe that, kid. The Boss wants to see you." He guided Ed into the office again.

"Now!?" Ed was dangerously close to whining. "Why the hell does he want to bother me now?"

"Hey. Maybe it's because he's worried about you. Everyone's noticed you're having some rough days."

Ed sobered slightly at that, and let Havoc guide him into Mustangs office, sinking gratefully onto the brown couch and flopping over, resting his head on the arm of the couch and just enjoying behind horizontal, letting his eyes sink closed and swallowing convulsively.

Roy exchanged glances with Havoc from across the desk, who shrugged. "He says he's not sick, Boss. But he just threw his guts up in the bathroom."

Roy resisted the urge to scoff in disbelief, not wanting to set Ed off- Ed was pale, sweaty, and shaking. He most certainly looked ill.

"What's going on, Fullmetal?" he asked, his voice leaving little room for games.

"Nothing- just leave me alone." Ed muttered without much bite, voice muffled because he was speaking into the arm of the couch. He wound one arm around his midsection- his stomach was still settling from his bout in the bathroom, and he really didn't feel like arguing with his superior right now.

"What's wrong with you? How long have you been sick?"

"'M not-" Ed waved him off, flopping onto his back and screwing his eyes shut. "Just... be quiet." his head was still throbbing.

Roy sighed, stepping forward and placing a hand on the kid's brow, frowning. The kid was cool and clammy, if anything. Definitely not feverish. Ed pawed his hand off and turned away, burying his face in the back of the couch, and Roy sighed, stepping out of the office with Havoc and shutting the door behind him.

Roy glanced over his shoulder to make sure the door was shut before he was addressing Havoc. "What happened? Did he say or do anything different before he got sick? Did something happen to startle him?" Roy wondered aloud. If something loud had frightened the kid, maybe he'd worked himself up to the point of vomiting.

Havoc shook his head. "No, nothing like that, Sir. The kid was fine one minute and the next he looked like death and ran out to throw up."

"Right." Roy blinked. He could probably rule out an anxiety attack as the cause, then. But if it wasn't anxiety, then what was it?

He turned to havoc, charcoal eyes concerned. "Is this because I took his cigarettes? Is he in withdrawal? Do people get withdrawal from cigarettes?"

Havoc shook his head slgihtly, chuckling. "No. I mean, people get cranky and jittery when they're quitting, but no- nothing like getting sick like that."

"Right. And he won't talk, so we're all in the dark..." Roy frowned.

"Does he have a fever, Sir?" Hawkeye spoke up.

Roy shook his head. "No. Kid's clammy as hell, but that's not surprising, considering he just threw up." Roy sighed. "Keep working, everyone. I'll watch him, if he gets worse I'll make the call."

Everyone nodded obediently and went back to their desks.

Roy took a deep breath, steeling himself, before he stepped back into his office.

Fullmetal hadn't moved off the couch, and was lying on his back, forearm draped over his eyes.

Roy wordlessly scooted the small wastebasket that he kept beside his desk next to the couch.

Wastebasket is next to you if you feel sick again. Do you want anything? Food? Medicine?" Roy tried.

Ed shook his head. "No... just... don't call Al." he muttered, not opening his eyes.

"You're going to have to give me a little more than that, kid. What's wrong with you? You look like hell, if you want me to keep Al out of this you have to give me something here. Anything weird happen before you got sick?" Roy was fishing for information and he knew it.

Ed grunted. His head was pounding less intensely, and his stomach was still churning, but it wasn't as intense as it had been. How the hell was he supposed to explain how his genius plan to use chewing tobacco backfired to him puking his guts up without getting screamed at?

"...must've been something I ate." was all he said, turning to bury his face in the couch again. He just wanted a damn cigarette.

"Right. Well, lay down for awhile. Let me know if you need anything." Roy headed back to his desk, not entirely convinced the kid was telling him everything but not wanting to push. The kid looked exhausted.

I read each and every review! What do you think is going to happen next? What was your favorite part?