I'm aliiiiiiiiiiiive!1!
Just barely.
Sorry, I disappeared for a while there, I was doing an online class for my teacher's certification.
Now I'm taking another online class, but I finished early today and I finally, finally got my research done for this chapter!
This was a monster to write and then I got halfway through it and realized there was stuff I needed to look up, and then I had to look up more stuff, and then... well, you know how it goes.
Anyway, I'm working on a second chapter for Causatum of Survival.
Whoop-dee-doo.
Bacon.
Roy was a liar.
When would he learn this?
He clearly hadn't learned this when he broke his oath to his master and gave flame alchemy to the military.
He apparently hadn't learned this when he broke his oath to humanity and razed the weakest, the poorest, the most defenseless of them – the very people he had taken the uniform to protect.
He certainly hadn't learned this, he realized, as he broke his oath to Fullmetal.
Roy had expected Alphonse to hit him.
But when he explained himself, the position he was in and the position he had been in before, Al's broad shoulders drooped with an exhaustion that was more real than any physical fatigue could ever be.
"I… I knew we couldn't keep him out of the hospital… I knew, but I didn't want to believe…"
Mustang said nothing. He felt he needed to say more, but couldn't find any more to say.
Al's soulfire eyes met his liquid ones, the scarlet glow dimmed to a dull maroon.
"Did… can you tell me what you remember? About when you were… If you can remember."
Roy closed his eyes, habitually trying to recreate the lapse in time so as to better summon the memories.
"Voices. Sensations. I thought I was dreaming. It wasn't until I woke up and learned I hadn't been sleeping that I knew it wasn't a dream."
"Voices?" Al's own voice perked up, a flash of curious reassurance lighting his gaze. "Do you remember words? Can you remember if someone was talking to you? Do you know what they said?"
Roy had to think about that. He hadn't thought about it until that moment.
"It was like… when you dream about someone and in the dream they're talking to you and when you wake up, you can remember what it was they trying to tell you or how what they told you feel, but not how they told you. I couldn't remember the meaning, or at least guess, but I can't remember what they said. Does that make sense?"
Alphonse stared at him unblinkingly, then angled his helmet towards the floor so he could look away.
"I… I'm sorry, I… I guess I haven't had a dream in so long, I… can't really remember what it's like."
Roy wasn't sure if it was what Al said or the way he said it, but suddenly there was a lump in Roy's throat and tears burning his eyes.
He swallowed them down with practiced but difficult effort.
Mustang wanted to tell Alphonse that it wasn't that bad.
He couldn't because he couldn't remember enough about it to comment on the quality of the experience.
He should have lied.
Roy was a liar, after all.
"Colonel?"
Roy hadn't realized he'd been staring at the floor until he looked up.
"Yes, Alphonse?"
"Why didn't you tell us?"
Roy definitely had to think about that.
He couldn't say it was because he hadn't wanted to bring up bad memories because he'd been unconscious for most of the ordeal, meaning that the majority of the memories were of nothingness
He thought about how the ordeal had happened in the first place and why those circumstances had existed in the first place.
"Why don't you talk about your armor, Alphonse?"
It was a cruel analogy and it took Al a moment to understand, but when he did he tilted his helmet to the side thoughtfully.
"Oh… I see. That makes sense."
Conditioning.
They avoided the "what" to keep away from the "how" which led ultimately to the horrible "why."
Roy had the sudden mental image of a sweater unravelling from a single loos thread.
What other threads did his mind have and what did they unravel?
His introspection was interrupted by the doctor rapping his knuckles against the doorframe of the study. Al and Roy had gone there to speak privately while the doctor checked on Edward, who was still under the supervision of Riza and Hayate.
"I hate to appear to rush you but… have you made a decision?"
"Can I ask you something?"
The doctor was surprised to have his question answered with a question, but accepted it nonetheless.
"You may."
"Which one is safest for Brother? The iron lung or… the incubation?"
The doctor's mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile.
"Intubation, young Elric, and to be honest… intubation is fairly new. We've had rubber tubes for a while, but they aren't as flexible as the plastic and we haven't had plastic long enough to know long-term exposure might affect the patient, let alone have it readily available. And then there's the matter of respiratory infection. Having a foreign object in his throat would place him at significant risk to his lungs.
"But the iron lung would all but cut you off from your brother. His entire body would be encased inside, save for his head and neck. You wouldn't be able to… interact with him nearly as intimately."
Al's armor creaked as he shifted.
"But the breathing tube could make him sick?"
"Whether because his immune response reacts to the tubing or pathogens reach his lungs through the tubing, intubation brings the danger of pneumonia."
"Could… could that kill him? If it happens?"
"As weak as he is now? Very possibly."
"The iron lung, then," Al demanded without further deliberation. Then, less forcefully, "Um… will it hurt him? To be in the… thing? Will he be in pain?"
The doctor smiled gently.
"No more than he is now. He'll be in a medically induced coma. He's sleeping now," the doctor took the opportunity to mention. " Or at least he's not very aware of his surroundings. He finally stopped fighting the tranquilizer. We could put him completely under and he wouldn't know it until it was over. If you talk to him while he's… recovering… there's the possibility that he might hear you."
"But he won't know he wasn't awake until he wakes up?" Al said, paraphrasing Roy's words from earlier.
"Essentially, yes."
Al shrank into himself as best as a suit of armor could, wringing his empty gloves together. He reminded Roy of a boy who'd been caught robbing the cookie jar.
"Could… could you do it now? Before he wakes up? That way he doesn't have to know."
The doctor took a step forward and surprised Roy by laying a gentle hand on Alphonse's shoulder. His fingers curled against the metal, as if he'd been expecting the armor to be warm and was disappointed to find it cold.
"There's no need. Like I told your brother, I didn't bring any sedatives with me. The tranquilizer should be enough until he gets to the hospital and we can't give him the paralytic until he's in the iron lung."
Alphonse tried to shrink further into himself, found himself unable to, and whatever semblance of composure he still had shattered and his gauntlets went to his helmet, covering what would have been face if he'd been human.
"Can I… can I hold him when you…"
Sedate him. Paralyze him. Betray him.
The doctor hesitated, glanced at Roy, saw the colonel's icy expression, and seemed to deflate like a punctured balloon.
"All right."
Then Alphonse sobbed and it was the worst sound Mustang had ever heard.
XXX
Riza drove, as she always did.
Roy sat in the passenger's seat.
It was uncomfortable, but the doctor managed to squeeze in next to Alphonse in the back so he could monitor Edward where he lay bundled in a blanket in Al's lap.
Hayate lay in his lap, the dog's nose twitching and eyes half closed like he was considering taking a nap.
Hayate had refused to let them leave the house without him. Not even Riza's stern commands of "Hush!" and "Stay!" could calm him. When she finally let him out of the house in hopes of placating him by offering him a chance to relieve himself in the grass, Hayate had bolted passed her and sat firmly on Al's sabaton, making his intentions quite clear. Alphonse had begged Hawkeye to let Hayate come with them. It was the boy's pleads, not the dog's, that swayed her.
At one point, Edward stirred, making sort of gurgling sound and trying to raise his chin. Alphonse had very nearly panicked but caught himself as the doctor, who was holding Ed's left wrist to monitor his pulse, frowned as he studied his patient's face. He glanced out the window, checking what part of East City they were in, then turned his attention back to Ed.
"His breathing is failing," he said, as matter-as-fact if he had been commenting on the water-color sunrise peaking over the rooftops. "His diaphragm has hardened too much for him to take proper breaths. Without a ventilator, he's not getting enough oxygen."
The ventilator was too large to fit in the car with them and the doctor had been sure they would reach the hospital before Edward went into true distress.
The man didn't elaborate further and so Hawkeye wasn't sure if he'd been cuing her or not, so she reacted as if he had and increased the car's speed. If that hadn't been what he'd meant, the doctor did not say.
XXX
By the time they reached the hospital, Ed's lips had started to turn blue and spit was rolling down his neck. Al noticed that his chin was beginning to turn red and sore from being wet so often.
He tried not to think about it.
They reached the hospital and it took every last bit of Alphonse's self-control not to throw Hayate onto the ground and run full throttle into the emergency room. Once he entered the building, his brother's face slowly becoming the color of a robin's egg, he heard the colonel behind him bark the order that the Fullmetal Alchemist was not to be moved from Al's arms for as long as medically possible and the dog stayed. Alphonse was barely paying attention to anything other than Ed, but he thought he heard a few indignant cries from the nurses that were rushing towards them that were immediately silenced by the doctor. A glass mask was strapped around his brother's face and a cloth wiped the drool away. The small, rapid puffs of mist against the glass showed Al just how shallow Ed's breathing was and he tightened his grip as a nurse began searching Edward's body, trying to find the least tensed bit of muscle for the myriad of injections.
Al knew Ed was not sleeping when the nurse passed over his swollen leg and Ed didn't even wince. He must have crossed the line from sleep to unconsciousness in the car, Al thought dumbly. And then there was medical tree holding a bag that was clearly more than just saline and the nurse taped the needle against Ed's stomach. The drip started and Al watched as the bursts of condensation in the mask slowed and faded like a dying heartbeat.
The doctor needn't have supervised for when the paralytic was active because as soon as Edward's breathing stopped, Al's legs gave out.
XXX
Hayate instantly replaced Fullmetal when the doctor gently gathered the all but dead boy and briskly led carried him away down a corridor, the IV and nurses rushing to keep up.
Alphonse pressed the dog to his unfeeling face and started keening, a high-pitched wail that made Roy think of a whetstone sliding across a sword. Hawkeye joined Al on his knees and wrapped her arms around him, slowly guiding him to his feet. Mustang felt like a third arm, useless and taking up space. He silently led the way out of the hospital, into the parking lot and into the car, Al still cradling Hayate and still singing his grief to the universe.
It wasn't until they were halfway back to the house that Roy realized that the doctor's car was still at his house.
XXX
It was jarring, going back to headquarters.
Rumors had of course spread during their absence and odd looks were cast their way as the colonel and lieutenant made their way to their desks, some accusing and some curious and some sympathizing.
None of the team dared speak when they entered the office, their eyes fixed squarely on their paperwork. They had only just sat down when a call came in from the head office.
General Grumman wanted to see them.
It was about the rumors, of course, and the meeting lasted a mere five minutes.
Roy didn't pay attention to nearly any of it, he felt numb, like his mind had left for some ethereal plane, leaving his brain to lead the way on instinctual reaction alone.
General Grumman asked them where they'd been.
Roy told him.
He asked what they'd been doing.
Riza told him.
He asked them what they'd been doing behind closed doors.
Roy stupidly tried to remember the last thing he'd been doing in a closed room and he said "pissing."
General Grumman had laughed so hard he pulled out his handkerchief to wipe away the tears.
"Well, I suppose that's satisfactory. You may go," Grumman said, still dabbing at his eyes. "Oh, I just remembered," he said as Mustang and Hawkeye turned to the door. "About the major. Awful business, that. I sent a fruit basket. I doubt it'll do him much good, but maybe the women tending to him will appreciate it." He grinned, his eyes sparkling with an energy that would have been called mischievous in a younger man.
Roy shocked himself when he had to blink back tears.
"I'm… I'm sure they will, sir."
XXX
Al was listless.
He went to the library and studied.
He held Hayate in Roy's study and studied.
He went to the hospital and sat outside the care unit and studied.
He studied about the Philosopher's Stone.
He studied about tetanus.
He studied about the kingdoms and tribes that had long since been forgotten as, one by one, they were swallowed by the growing Amestris.
He could not bring himself to visit his brother. The mental picture alone of him trapped inside a huge metal tank, still and unknowing, like a corpse in a coffin…
Al thumped his helmet against the wall, using the sound to jolt himself out of that line of thought.
"Hey, now, don't take it out on the wall! I can assure you it is completely unrelated to the situation."
Alphonse jumped, displacing the book in his lap.
"Mr. Hughes! What're you –"
"Checking on you. Both of you," he said, nodding towards the closed door beside Al. "Are you on guard duty? I'm sure none of the staff here have any intention of harming your brother."
Al had to think about his answer.
"I'm… waiting."
It was the only thing he could think of saying.
Hughes nodded, his welcoming smile gone.
"I see. Is it helping?"
Al thought about his answer.
"I… I don't –"
"Is waiting here helping you? Is it helping your brother?"
Al wasn't sure. Was it?
"What if… what if something happens –"
"Doubtless something will happen," Hughes said, smiling again and crouching down to Alphonse's level. "Something is always happening. But will waiting here change that?"
Al didn't bother thinking of an answer.
"I hear you've been taking care of Black Hayate while Hawkeye's been busy," the colonel segued. Al nodded.
"He's a good dog."
"You know," he continued, making Alphonse wonder how on earth he was supposed to know what Maes was about to say, "the fair isn't going to be in town for much longer and my girls have been having the time of their lives. I have work so I have to miss out, but I'm sure Elicia would be absolutely delighted and Gracia wouldn't mind a bit. They can't go on a lot of the rides since Elicia's still so little, but Gracia loves the magic shows. And Elicia thinks the petting zoo is the most hilarious thing on this side of creation!"
Al stared at his gloves.
"Well… I don't know… what about Hayate?"
"Bring him with you! Lots of people bring their dogs to the fair."
"He's not mine –"
"The lieutenant won't mind. Hey, maybe she'll meet us out there? Whadd'ya say?"
"Um…"
"They have piglets…"
Alphonse let a small giggle escape.
"They always had piglets at the festival back home."
"So?"
"Okay. I guess I could…"
"Att'a boy! Let me get an update from the doctors and then we'll go."
And he disappeared into the room Al dared not go, leaving Alphonse once again alone with his reading.
XXX
"Colonel! Colonel, they're waking him up today!"
Roy let out a very unmanly shriek and threw his pen at the armor bursting its way into his office. It bounced off Al's breastplate and onto the carpet where it was trampled by a giant metal boot.
"We have to get to the hospital or we'll miss it! Come on, Colonel, come on!" Alphonse grabbed Mustang's forearm and yanked him out his chair. The lieutenant watched with badly hidden amusement as the colonel was dragged out of his office.
Havoc stood up from his desk, an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. The rest of the team had heard everything – they hadn't been eavesdropping, but with Al's excited screeching, they didn't need to.
"Can I come? The last time I saw the chief Hughes's wife was giving him a spa treatment. Maybe he'll tell me his secret to getting serviced." Jean grinned naughtily.
Falman blinked at him confusedly.
"He has a debilitating illness and it's hardly a secret. You were there, second lieutenant."
Havoc rolled his eyes at Vato's literalness. Fuery hopped up from his worktable, holding what looked like a tiny transceiver in his hands.
"I made him a radio! I thought he might get bored laying in that bed all the time, so he should at least have something to listen to."
Al had stopped in the middle of the room, his gauntlet still wrapped around Roy's arm.
"This is all lovely, but will someone please tell me what is going on?" Roy said, extricating himself from Al's hold. "The doctor said Fullmetal wouldn't be able to leave the iron lung for two weeks. It's only been three days."
"They have to take him out a few days to check on his progress and wash him and move his limbs around. The nurse said it's normal procedure. They do it to keep him from getting skin sores and clots in his blood from lying down too long. She said they wouldn't start until we got there but we have to hurry up so you have to come on!"
Alphonse made to grab Mustang again and Roy dodged with honed reflexes.
"They're waking him up? All the way?"
Al huffed in annoyance, a sound that was a bit like someone trying to play a teapot like flute.
"They have to take him off the sedatives so he can breathe and they can see how much control of his body he's gotten back, but they can't have him awake for long because his lungs are probably not strong enough yet. So we need to hurry!"
He successfully grabbed Roy's wrist this time and nearly dislocated the man's elbow with his pulling.
"Why do you have rainbows painted on your helmet?"
"Colonel, please, let's go!"
The sound of the rest of the squad running after them echoed through the hallways.
Roy didn't have the heart to order them back to work.
Especially Fuery. He was so proud of that miniature radio.
XXX
The nurse heard the stampede of footsteps, glanced down the hall, saw Alphonse, Mustang, and his soldiers, turned to open the door and let the doctor know they had arrived, then turned around to make sure her eyes hadn't tricked her.
Roy nearly pitched forward from the leftover momentum as Al came to an abrupt halt, caught himself, and used his free hand to tidy up his appearance.
"They refused to stay behind," he said by way of explanation, which wasn't a lie because they absolutely would have if Roy had actually protested their accompaniment. As it was, Riza had driven Al and Roy, and the rest had either tagged along in a military car or hailed a taxi.
The nurse studied the group, her expression somewhere between apologetic and concerned.
"I'm not sure that all of you seeing him at once is a good idea. You could overwhelm him –"
"Then they'll take turns," Al supplied for her, not at all interested in talking and completely interested in seeing his brother in whatever form of coherency he might or would be in. "Is he awake yet."
"The doctor's waiting for the sedative to wear off enough that it's safe to take him out of the iron lung. It'll be a few minutes and a few minutes after that before he's responsive. Um, I must warn you, he won't be very responsive," she added, absentmindedly biting her cheek nervously.
"But will he know we're there?" Roy was surprised by the sincerity of his question.
"More than he would when he's completely sedated, yes."
That was all the answer they needed.
XXX
It was an unspoken agreement that Alphonse would not leave the room. Roy was not sure how he and Riza ended up being included.
The orderlies had laid Edward down on a gurney, his back slightly arched and his neck tight. His mouth was still pulled back away from his teeth and Mustang could see where the constant drool had caused his skin to crack.
He would have looked like a cadaver, were it not for the small clouds bursting behind the oxygen mask on his face.
It was his metal arm that stirred first.
The steel fingers twitched, like Ed was testing if he could move them, but without being able to feel them Roy wasn't sure how productive the attempt was. Then Ed's arm rose ever so slightly and his wrist nodded as if he was giving is visitors a very pathetic wave.
"Brother?" Al's voice was small and high with nervous excitement. "Can you hear me?" Ed's eyelids flickered but didn't lift.
The doctor had left the automail attached specifically because Fullmetal would be able to move it despite the toxin, but the analgesics made translating motor skills difficult. Al quickly reached out his arm, touching it to his brother's hand with a gentle dink.
"Brother? If you can hear me, tap my arm."
A pause, then Ed's fingers tickled Alphonse's armor, making a metallic scratching sound. Roy wasn't sure what that meant.
Al was insistent though, and continued to ask him and Ed continued to fall short of giving proper answer, until after what felt like five minutes but was actually two, Fullmetal successfully raised his palm and brought it down in a gentle pat.
Alphonse emitted a giggling sob.
And Edward opened his eyes.
It was only the smallest fraction and Mustang doubted he could see much of anything, but the doctor seemed to think that it meant that Ed was awake enough to comprehend simple requests.
"Mister Elric? If you can hear me, can you move the fingers of your left hand?"
A moment and then an uncommitted flex of his flesh fingers. Al grabbed Ed's right hand and brought his helmet down to press the artificial knuckles to what would have been his forehead.
"Can you move your left arm?"
A moment and then a much weaker twitch, like he was trying to flick off a fly.
"Can you move your shoulders?"
A moment.
Nothing.
If this meant anything, the doctor didn't say anything.
Instead he took his stethoscope from around his neck and pressed the chest-piece to Edward's ribs.
"Can you take a deep breath for me?"
Roy thought he saw the boy's ribcage jerk – he was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and Mustang could see how terribly thin he was.
"Okay," the doctor said, as if he'd just been handed a folder of papers to file. "Can you move the toes of your left foot?"
Ed waggled his foot at the ankle instead but this seemed to be satisfactory.
"I'll leave his left leg alone. I don't want to put any undue stress on the ligaments," the doctor said, stepping away from the gurney. "It's nothing I didn't expect. His nerves haven't really had a chance to repair themselves yet." He looked over the bowed hulking form of Alphonse and at the colonel and lieutenant. "Would you like to visit with him now? It might be nice for him to hear familiar voices while he's tended to."
Mustang wasn't sure what the point of asking was but nodded all the same. Suddenly the room was far more cramped as a nurse opened the door and Havoc and Fuery filed in.
Jean's face paled considerably and his lips worked, searching for a cigarette that was no longer there; the receptionist wouldn't let him into the hospital until he'd tossed it. Fuery faltered, the hands holding his tiny radio shaking. Roy thought about how different it was seeing Fullmetal like this than the last time they'd visited. Havoc had been able to hold a conversation with him and Fuery hadn't seen him since the day he'd collapsed in the office.
He wondered if being struck by a wagon would have been less jolting.
"H-Hey, Chief," Jean stumbled out, looking oddly shy. "How you holdin' up?"
Nothing.
"I made you a radio," Fuery said, proffering the gift like a beggar before a king.
Nothing.
"Here, let's try it out," Kain took the cord and pushed the plugs into the nearest socket, fiddling with the dials until the static cleared and what sounded like a talk show host crackled into the room.
"…rainy for the next few days, so make sure to take your flowerboxes from under the awnings. Prices for sugar have increased with the ongoing seasonal festival…"
"Hey, it works!" Fuery exclaimed, as if he'd fully expected it not to.
"…tonight's show of Crackin' Wise! I've read some of this week's entries, and I have to say, some of you should try a career in culinary because you're quite the cutups!"
The joke was so bad that it took Roy a good while to get it.
When he did, he couldn't stop himself from cringing and Jean snorted in derision.
Ed made a noise, high pitched creaking sound, and clumsily kicked his automail foot. Al noticed this, despite having his helmet lowered, and snickered, his curved back quivering.
"Yeah, Brother. That was awful."
Fuery rolled the dial some more to escape the would-be comedian and came across a station that was playing what sounded suspiciously like bar music. Roy had never taken Fullmetal for a music connoisseur, but as the tempo of the song increased, Ed flicked his metal ankle in time to the tinny drum beats beneath the rolling saxophone.
From what Roy could tell, he did not think Fullmetal knew where he was nor did he care. It seemed that the fact that his brother was nearby was the only knowledge of his location he needed. He wasn't sure if Edward knew that Roy was there but found himself reluctant to make himself known in the event that he wasn't. Roy felt like a supervisor in this private meeting, that he was meant to be a part of the background and not a member of the conversation (though if there was any communication going on, it wasn't being done with words). No, this moment was between the brother and brother, and he had no place in it.
This did not explain the bite of jealousy buried in his belly.
The saxophone tapered off and the drum tapped furiously as the song ended.
"That was Bingo and the Buddies' newest jazzer, "This Gin Ain't Got Nothin' On You!"
The announcer's voice suggested that he didn't understand what it was about the song that made it worthy of broadcasting.
"It's time to grab your kiddos and grab your phone because it's everyone's favorite block!"
It was not the announcer's favorite block. Roy wondered if he ever enjoyed his profession.
"Kids' Central, where Central's kids tell us what's central today!"
There was a beat of awkward silence as the station connected to the operator.
"Our first caller is… what's your name, pumpkin?"
"S-Sam… Samuel."
The little boy sounded terrified.
"Well, Sammy – can I call you Sammy?" The announcer did not wait for an answer. "Sammy, tell us what's central with you today?"
"I-I'm sad… and scared…"
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. What's got you down, Sam?"
"M-My f-friend is s-sick."
"I'm sorry about your friend. I'm sure he'll be fine soon –"
"No, no, he's in the hospital! My mommy told me! She came home and told my daddy that my friend was sick and he cannot breathe and…" The boy's voice trailed off into quiet sobs. Fuery reached for the dial, most likely to change the station to something happier, but Al stopped him.
"Brother wants to hear this. He likes little kids."
Mustang was pretty sure that Al was the one who was fond of children, but for all he knew, Edward had sent his brother a telepathic message and Roy didn't think he had the jurisdiction to question this.
"There, there, Sammy, I'm sure your friend is fine. Where's your mother? Can we talk to her?" The announcer's voice had softened considerably. He sounded genuinely concerned.
"I-I'm in a phone house… by my 'partment… my 'partment don't have a phone…"
"A phone house?"
"The little house where the phone lives outside!"
"Oh! You're in a phone booth!"
"I'm calling it a phone house from now on," Al said, giggling.
"Well, how about you hurry on home before your parents start missing you –"
"No! I need to help my friend! My friend helped me and my daddy when I fell into a road hole! The top broke off the road hole and I fell in and Daddy couldn't get me out and then my friend came and made the road hole spit me out! I need to help him –"
"Slow down, Sammy! What's a road hole?"
"A storm drain." Al lifted his helmet and stared at the radio, his voice thick with an emotion Mustang couldn't interpret. "Sammy fell down a storm drain – Oh! Oh, no!"
Roy had been about to ask what was wrong when he realized himself.
Alphonse recognized the boy's story with a vividness that meant he had been there when the event little Sammy had described occurred.
And if Al had been there, then so had…
Roy felt a ball of ice form in his stomach.
"Your friend sounds like a superhero, Sammy!"
"He is a superhero 'cause he helped me with his super powers!"
"Well, I suppose even superheroes need saving sometimes. What's your friend's name, Sammy? I bet he's listening to this and he'll cheer up quite a bit knowing your thinking of him."
"Eddard Ellick!"
The name was horribly slurred but everyone (save Edward, who could not move) in the room flinched. Fuery's hand flew to his mouth and Mustang closed his eyes, fighting off the future migraine that would form during the incoming fiasco.
The broadcaster did not comprehend.
"Eddard Ellick? That sounds familiar…"
The man's voice faded as he called to someone else in the studio.
"Hey, Joey, who's Eddard Ellick? Is he someone famous?"
There was some unintelligible conversation, but the shocked shriek of "You mean the Baby Alchemist?!" was clearly audible.
Ed growled, though whether it was at this breach of his privacy or at being called the "Baby Alchemist", Roy didn't know
Then there was some clacking and shuffling noises and then the broadcaster was back at the microphone, speaking with an enthusiasm that made Roy feel ill.
"W-well, folks, it looks like we have, um, a breaking news report! Edward Elric, known as the Fullmetal Alchemist and the youngest State Alchemist in Amestrian history –"
Riza was the one who turned off the radio, reaching over Fuery for the dial.
Everyone else were too shocked to move.
And in the sudden silence of the radio being off, they all heard the safety of her pistol be turned off as well.
My computer was killed my Windows 10 updates so I finished this chapter on my iPad.
Did you know that Word for iPad doesn't have a References tab so you can't input citation and bibliography information automatically?
It sucks.