Welcome to the second/third to last chapter!
Or should I say goodbye?
Aloha? That means both "hello" and "goodbye."
This came out a lot messier than I intended. Also, I have, like, two new stories in mind but I don't know which one to go with first.
What do y'all think?
The one that's like this or the one that's more like In His Own Hell without the non-graphic M stuff?
Not that it has M stuff in it.
I don't write that stuff, my sister and my dad see this account.
Edward could bend his left arm halfway towards his elbow and could lift his arm a fraction towards the ceiling. He could flex right leg but could not bend it and the little bit of movement he could make seemed to pain him, if that was what the strained squeaking sound he made meant.
"Connective tissue heals slowly, so that's not out of the ordinary," the doctor said, studying the fading bruising around Ed's thigh. "Well… it does seem we've passed the worst of it."
"So, he's getting better?" Alphonse asked, his leather gauntlet holding his brother's flesh hand.
Edward's eyes were closed, more asleep than awake, the medicine line having been reattached. The drip had been slowed to keep Ed conscious long enough for Edward to breathe on his own while the doctor conducted his examination but keeping him sedated enough to prevent any chances of seizing.
"Yes. His nerves are healing. It'll be a progressive process – his arms and torso will recover sooner than his legs because those parts were affected first, as well as the matter of the ligaments needing time to repair."
Alphonse bent his knees and wrapped his huge arms around his unresponsive brother in the most efficient hug he could manage. The doctor waited for him to let go and when he didn't he had to remind Al that Edward had to go back into the iron lung.
With great reluctance Alphonse let his brother go, and with great excitement went to the public phone in the hallway to make a call.
XXX
The letters kept coming and Alphonse kept answering with Nurse Dorothea's help. When he could, Al would read the letters to his brother even though Edward never showed any signs of understanding anything.
The improvement of his nerves and his developing bedsores made the doctor suggest a change be made to Ed's daily ablutions. As gently and slowly as they could, the nurses would sit him up and hold him, whether against their own bodies or simply held him, while the iron lung was cleaned and Edward's hair and face were washed.
To Alphonse's surprise, this chore quickly became a competition to see which of the nurses could remove Edward from the iron lung and scoop him up the fastest. When the question became heated, the default solution was to have Al cradle his brother against his breastplate. Alphonse was happy to let the nurses handle this process – his senseless fingers were no good for sudsing or rinsing and the sight of Edward lying in his arms like a broken doll did not summon happy memories.
This was why when Roy Mustang entered the room during the afternoon on his day off from the office that Alphonse suggested to the two nurses who were passive aggressively trying to convince the other to give her the exhausting position of hefting a teenage boy and bearing his full weight for half an hour – or so one of them had described it – that the colonel be the one to hold Edward that day.
"The colonel could do it. Brother's nothing the colonel can't handle," Al said as Mustang removed his coat to the the appreciation of the young women, who twittered shyly when they saw the triangle of skin the man's unbuttoned shirt shirt didn't cover below his neck. Roy, who had just arrived and had only been present for Al's greeting and the words, "The colonel could do it" and thereafter, smirked in a way that made one nurse blush and the other to smile and look away.
"I've been dealing with Fullmetal long enough to know all his tricks, and for him to know it. It would be my pleasure to assist the lovely ladies with anything they would like."
Alphonse knew that the sight of Roy Mustang's face when a blanket-wrapped Edward Elric was deposited into his arms would be a memory that would be with him until the day he died.
XXX
Roy was wondering what decision he'd made that day had led to him sitting in a hospital chair with a stirring Fullmetal curled up in his lap.
The warm water that the nurse used to wash Ed's hair seemed to coax him a little more awake. Edward tried to move his left arm and managed to tighten his fingers around the unbuttoned collar of Roy's shirt, yanking it uncomfortably down around his neck.
Roy prayed to the universe that the nurses would finish quickly.
The door to the room opened.
"Alphonse! I had some business in South City and thought I would take an extra day to come see how you and Ed were doing – Roy!"
Roy closed his eyes and hoped that Armageddon hurt.
"Hello, Mr. Hughes," Al said. "The doctor wants Brother sitting up when he's out of the iron lung to help with his bedsores."
Maes Hughes raised his eyebrows at this.
"Well! It looks like Roy-Boy is contributing a little community service today."
"Don't say it."
Without missing a beat, Maes grinned widely and rocked back on his heels, the very picture of innocence.
"Don't say what, Roy?"
"The word you're thinking. Don't say it because it's not a word and I am not –"
The door opened again and Lieutenant Hawkeye appeared.
"Colonel, I told you, the doctor isn't comfortable with –"
She cut herself off and blinked in surprise.
"Hello, Colonel… Mustang," she added with a glance at Maes.
"Lieutenant."
For a moment, the only sound was the splash of water and the nurse's contented humming as the nurse washed Fullmetal's hair.
Maes turned his attention to Edward, his smile softening from mischievous to kind concern.
"Hey, Ed-Boy. How are you today?"
If Edward could hear him, he didn't show it.
"Gracia's been worried about you. She's planning a party for when you get better. She's going to bake a pie. The biggest pie she's ever baked!"
The topic of food seemed to pull Ed somewhat further out of his medicated stupor because his eyes twitched open. He stared at nothing in particular for a moment, then rubbed his fingers through Mustang's shirt.
"Al?"
It was quiet and breathy but Alphonse shot to his feet as if his brother had screamed it.
"I'm right here, Brother."
Ed's eyes roved in Al's general direction.
"Al?"
"I'll be at the party, Brother. I promise."
"Al…" Edward's eyes started sliding closed again. Roy hoped he would go to sleep and then the nurse would take him away and everyone would leave and Roy could go home and pretend he'd never been in this position. The nurse picked up a towel and, with practice only someone who'd had long hair all their lives would have, wrapped the towel around Edward's head and twisted it into a curled pile.
Then, to Mustang's horror, the nurse delicately lifted Fullmetal by the shoulders and leaned him against the colonel's body.
"Wha –"
"I'm just changing the bandages on his back. This won't take long."
Ed's breath tickled Roy's neck and Maes made a noise that earned him a look powerful enough to kill an army.
"Not. A. Word."
Riza stepped forward and for a hopeful second, Roy thought she was volunteering to take over from there. Instead she took Roy's arms and repositioned them so that he had one arm around Fullmetal's waist and the other arm over the boy's shoulders.
"He was starting to slip. You need to make sure you have a proper grip on him so he doesn't fall."
Mustang was sure his heart was going to give out from lack of blood since his body's entire supply had relocated to his face.
Fullmetal mumbled something unintelligible, then squeaked as the nurse finished removing the gauze from his back and his sore skin was exposed to the air.
"It's healing well. In fact, it'll probably be gone within a few days." Ed made a soft whimper-like sound when the nurse applied a fresh layer of salve and Roy surprised himself by tightening his hold.
"So how long until he's… well enough to leave?" Hughes chose his words carefully as he watched the nurse dab ointment from a jar with a cotton ball over Ed's peeling skin.
"That's a question for the physical therapist, and it's too early for him to give a prognosis. He's told us to call him as soon as Ed – Mister Elric can properly raise his arm and leg without hurting himself."
"And how long will that take?" It was Alphonse who asked that question.
"Well, if he doesn't have any further complications, I'd say well within the next two weeks."
Roy found his mind wandering away from the conversation as he sat there, holding Fullmetal against him, the boy's automail hand pressing hard against his ribs and Ed's legs dangling over his own.
The exercises they'd given him to work on had been simple ones, like sitting up unassisted and walking in a straight line without his legs buckling on his own. He'd been closely monitored for the first week after being brought out of his induced sleep, then was instructed to continue them on his own time and to contact a doctor if he thought at any point that something was wrong. In hindsight, they had probably been flexible to the point of near negligence with him. This had unmistakably been to keep his condition confidential, most certainly at the demands of Hughes and Hawkeye as well as those of his superiors who wanted to avoid the public panic from news of the Hero of Ishval having some potentially deadly disease.
"Um.. Sir…"
There was also the issue of the disease itself. Less knowledgeable citizens might have very well assumed that whatever illness Roy had was contagious or assumed he'd gotten it from the Ishavallans. He did not want to think about what might have happened in the case of the latter.
"Sir… Colonel?"
Mustang knew that his recovery was owed to fortunate timing than anything else. If he'd gotten sick any earlier, then he probably wouldn't have survived long enough to receive proper medical care. If it had been any later, there would have been no way they would have been able to keep his condition from staying under wraps.
Although, he wouldn't have minded being showered with candies and gifts during his recovery period.
"Colonel Mustang, sir!"
Roy snapped out of his reverie and realized what he'd been doing when he stopped doing it.
"Thank you. I'm almost done, so if you could just hold still for another minute more –"
"I was not."
He would not look at Hughes, who he knew must be smiling that obnoxious smile of his, and he would not look at Hawkeye, who he knew must be fighting very hard not to have the same smile. Instead he looked at Alphonse, who could not smile.
Alphonse merely shrugged noncommittally.
"Brother looked like he was liking it, so I didn't say anything."
Edward himself made a strained sort of sighing sound and pulled harder on Roy's shirt, popping the second button free and revealing the colonel's collarbone. Roy did not miss the way the nurse's cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink and became suddenly very interested in the wall.
"When we were little, the farmer down the road from us, Farmer Sweet, would bring milk and eggs to Mom in exchange for vegetables from her garden. Sometimes, when he and Mom were talking, he would pick one of us up and bounce us just like that. Brother always pretended to hate it but we all knew he actually liked the attention."
"My pa used to bounce me on his knee when I was small," Maes added, his expression softening from teasing to reminiscent. "I was so upset the day he told me I was too big. I make sure to bounce Elicia as much as I can because I know we'll both miss it once she's too old."
None of this made Mustang feel better about the fact that he had been absentmindedly bouncing the Fullmetal Alchemist on his knee like he was a small child.
Worse, he found himself continuing to do so if he failed to focus specifically on keeping still until the nurse finished taping on the fresh bandages and said that Roy could put Edward down if he wanted to.
Maes did not want him to.
"Please, just one, Roy."
"No."
"I promise I won't show it to anyone."
"That's what you said last time and you showed it to your wife."
"Gracia doesn't count, she's family!"
"No, and my leg's falling asleep, so I would appreciate if someone would please take him."
Alphonse wrung his wrists together shyly.
"What if… what if Mr. Hughes didn't take a picture and you kept holding Brother?"
Both Maes and Roy looked at Al as if he had suggested throwing Edward out the window.
"I'm sorry!" Al gasped, seeing their horrified faces. "It's just that… I haven't seen Brother that happy in awhile. Well, not since Miss Gracia pampered him up, at least."
Mustang silently cursed himself for giving into temptation and looking at Fullmetal's face. He did appear to be content, though he was beginning to stir a bit more since the colonel had stopped bouncing him. Out of habit, Mustang looked at Riza and the torn look on her face told him more than any answer she could have given.
If his lieutenant was questioning whether or not to deprive Fullmetal of this indulgence, then Roy couldn't bring himself to refuse, not if it meant becoming the villain of the situation.
"If the colonel so much as reaches for his camera, shoot him."
"Yes, sir."
The way that Ed curled closer to the warmth of Roy's body once the man started bouncing his leg again was so satisfying that Maes couldn't even be angry as he slipped his bag, camera still inside, off his shoulder and onto the floor.
XXX
They were alone the second time.
It had simply been chance that Alphonse had gone to the library to fetch some new books to read, the lieutenant had errands and the nurses were just beginning Fullmetal's daily ablutions, and he didn't know why, but he wanted to have Edward to himself. He told himself it had nothing to do with Edward, he just wanted an excuse for the privacy. The nurses clearly had their own ideas based on their gentle smiles when they left and Mustang didn't bother insisting that his intention was anything other than to lessen their load of responsibilities by handling Ed's new routine of spending at least an hour off his back to prevent any more sores from forming. He knew they wouldn't believe him and it wasn't as if it mattered what they thought is his intentions were.
But when it was just them and Mustang had no reason to keep appearances, Roy could no longer lie to himself.
He had never been able to apologize to the people he'd murdered. He doubted they'd accept it if he could. But Edward was not dead and even if he would never accept Roy's apology, the fact that he had the chance to at least try was not one he would give up.
With Edward's small, drained body tucked into the curve of Mustang's larger one and the boy's head resting under his chin, Roy wondered if he would be able to do it or if he would devote all his energy to swallowing down the tears that kept fighting for freedom.
When the words finally came, they were whispered and strained.
"I'm sorry." Mustang squeezed his eyes shut when a few tears managed to escape. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
It was not a plea for forgiveness. Roy didn't deserve it and he didn't want it. The fact that Edward was the one suffering and Mustang was unable to keep from crying was proof of that.
He remembered how Riza had been the one to shed tears in Ishval while Roy and Maes had become statues of indifference, as unresponsive to the news of the war's end as the sight of their comrade's heads being shorn from their necks by Ishvallan blades.
He really was useless.
Roy froze when he felt a small, rough hand curl around his shoulder.
Fullmetal shifted, if the barest of movement he made could be called shifting, and Mustang lost his willpower and pulled Ed away from him.
The boy's eyes were glassy but he seemed to at least see the blue of the colonel's uniform. He rubbed his left hand along the cloth, feeling the cotton beneath his palm and his fingertips. He slowly raised his gaze to meet Roy's and Mustang didn't dare breathe.
"Col… onel…"
It wasn't clear if Ed's sleepy brain was simply voicing his visual association or if he was addressing Mustang directly. Out of reflex, Roy brought his face closer, even though he knew Fullmetal wasn't capable of saying anything meaningful. Out of reflex, Edward brought his left hand from Roy's shoulder to his face.
Roy had never had much facial hair and rarely shaved, but like all men he sometimes had prickles. The scratchiness of Mustang's chin was apparently fascinating because Ed would not stop petting him.
Roy was not sure what to make of it.
"Bast… tard…"
That got Mustang to smile despite his tears.
"Yeah, I am, aren't I?"
"Bast… tard… Dad…"
Roy's blood turned into ice as Edward's interest in his five o' clock shadow made sense.
Roy had never seen Ed's father, not even a picture of him, but he could easily imagine a larger, older version of Fullmetal with a face full of hair letting a smaller, younger version of Fullmetal pull on his beard.
He would have played with his small son before he had left his house and family, vanishing as effectively as if he was dead. Mustang wondered if he was dead, if maybe his absence was a result of an inability to return to his wife and sons rather than a lack of interest to do so.
Not that it made a difference either way.
Thoroughly discomforted, Roy tried to pull away, tried to take his face out of Fullmetal's reach, because this was Fullmetal, not a boy longing for the reassuring and love of his father, which Mustang was not –
The noise Ed made when he swiped for the colonel's face and was met with nothing was nearly identical to the agonized whining of a dog Roy had come across in Ishval. The animal had been fatally wounded and Riza had shot it between the eyes, ending its suffering. Hearing that same sound, a sound that was full of enough pain to kill, made Mustang forget that Edward was Fullmetal and if Edward wasn't Fullmetal, then he was nothing more than a child.
A broken child, mangled by the machinations of forces so much larger and stronger than he was.
Forces that should have been dedicated to protecting him.
Forces like Colonel Roy Mustang.
Edward smelled like soap and sterility, and Roy could feel every one of his bones of his wasting body that only had the nutrient drip in his neck for sustenance. His left arm was like a thick stick pressing against Roy's neck, his right one larger and colder. For a moment, he was afraid someone would walk in and see them, see the Flame Alchemist burying his face in his major's hair and Fullmetal embracing his commanding officer as if he would die if he let go.
It was only a moment because Roy immediately decided that he didn't care.
XXX
Mustang had made sure that the news of Edward's condition did not travel beyond Central. He had been concerned about the number of favors he'd have to pull in order to snuff out any potential gossip, but was surprised to find that he didn't have to. Hughes had already quaffed any attempts for news and journalist firms to write an article and had forewarned any radio station of the consequences they would face if they included a certain story in their broadcast.
"I don't see what there is to be surprised about. This is literally my job," Maes had said when Mustang had blinked at him incredulously.
When Roy told Al that he and his brother's privacy was intact, insofar as city limits, Alphonse had asked him if an exception had been made for Risembool. Roy had stood there in embarrassed silence for a moment, then sheepishly admitted that he had not thought of it.
"Good." Al's response surprised the colonel, to say the least. Upon seeing Roy's expression, Al explained. "Brother told me as soon as we got to the house – your house, I mean – not to call Winry. I wanted to because I know Brother wants her there even though he pretends he doesn't, but…. He asked me not to."
"… He wants her here but he asked you not to send for her?"
Alphonse hesitated.
"When Brother was having his… surgery… Winry and Granny were the only ones allowed in the room. I was… too big and not used to being big and the Rockbells were worried… Winry was there with him through the whole thing. She's one of the only people who've ever seen him at his absolute worst… and I think that means something, but Brother doesn't want to upset her because seeing him hurt hurts her and that hurts him…"
Mustang would have asked more into the matter if he hadn't already known exactly what Alphonse was talking about.
"Seeing him this way must be agony for you. I'm sorry." The words sounded detached, a distraction for Mustang from the mental image of sherry eyes miles deep with pain lying on the bottom that Roy could only see because he knew what lay in the well of his own soul.
Al's shoulders creaked as he looked away.
"Whatever I'm feeling is nothing compared to what he's going through."
It was a testament to Roy's control of his body that he did not allow himself a chagrined grin.
Distracting one's self from one's pain by focusing on another's.
In the end, they were all too selfish to be practical – even Alphonse, who didn't even have a self to indulge.
XXX
When Riza informed him he had a call from the hospital two days later, Roy instinctively leapt to the worst possible conclusion.
When he received the call from the phone on his desk, he dropped the pen he'd been holding and half stood from his chair.
When the call ended, he replaced the receiver and sat back down slowly, stared at nothing in particular, then raised his eyes to Hawkeye.
"Lieutenant, cancel any plans I have for three days from now."
"Of course, sir." She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "May I ask why?"
"They're going to wake up Fullmetal. All the way."
As she returned to her own desk to make some calls of her own, she pretended she didn't see his hands raise to cup his face and he pretended he didn't see the silver lining her eyes.
XXX
"Brother? Brother, can you hear me?"
Edward huffed an burrowed deeper into the blanket he was wrapped in. When Alphonse patted him, he angrily swiped his brother's gauntlet away, silently wondering why his arm and shoulder felt so stiff.
"Mmm… five more minutes."
Al made a noise somewhere between a cough and a laugh.
"Brother, you've had enough sleep. It's time for you to get up."
Ed mumbled something unintelligible and worked his jaw. His face felt like hard clay, and while the movement wasn't comfortable, popping the joints felt cathartically pleasant.
He sat up on reflex, forgetting in his sleep-addled state that he was not supposed to be able to do that. For what it was worth, he only half did it; the muscles in his back were just as slow as the ones in his shoulder, and Al had to catch him and lift him the rest of the way. Ed stretched exaggeratedly, groaning at the way his spine cricked, then started vigorously rubbing his face with his hands.
"Ohm… had the weirdest dream, Al. You were there, and then Mom was there for a bit… she didn't do much… and the bastard colonel was there and he tried to steal my leg so I clobbered him in the face, and then I think Havoc or Fuery or some of the other sarges were there… and we were all listening to this show and then you were show and then Fuery tried to turn you off 'cause he's an idiot so I slugged 'im and you told someone you were gonna eat his feet or somethin'… and then… can't remember…
"Then we, like, went to the lake or somethin' and the water was hot, but, like, nice hot, and then the colonel showed up again and he had a beard like Mr. Curtis and then… then… umm…"
"Yes, Brother?"
"I wanna waffle."
"I'll get you a waffle, Brother."
"Thanks, Al."
Ed's neck was sore. He reached up to the rub the ache away and hissed at the sting when his fingers touched the wound made by the IV needle.
"What the hell?"
For the first time since waking, Edward opened his eyes.
There was no blood on his fingers, which meant the wound was old, but he didn't remember hurting his neck recently.
"Don't touch it, Brother. Scratching it will make it heal slower."
"Yeah, but why –"
Now that he was actually looking, he could see that this was not his bed – not in his dorm or in Mustang's house.
He was not wearing his clothes. His shirt was a robin's egg blue and too soft and thin to do much except keep him decent.
It was a hospital gown.
Ed looked up at his brother and saw Mustang and Hawkeye and the doctor staring at him from over his brother's shoulder.
"Why are the bastard and friends watching me sleep?"
XXX
Edward had been in the iron lung for fifteen days.
When Fullmetal learned this, he was less upset about the time he'd lost than the fact that Alphonse had spent the time without him.
"Don't worry, Brother, I got lots of research done."
"Yeah, but I could've helped you!"
"No, you couldn't. Eat your broth."
"I don't want broth, I wanna waffle!"
"The doctor says that you're not ready for solid foods yet."
"You said you'd get me a waffle!"
"He said he'd get you a waffle. He didn't say when."
Edward glared at the colonel, who was sitting in a hospital chair and nursing a paper cup of coffee.
"You stay out of this, bastard!"
"Only if you come over and make me – oh, that's right, you can't."
"I don't need to walk to kick your ass, Mustang!"
"But you do need to stand, and right now, you can't even sit up without the bed raised. Now eat your broth like a good little boy –"
The bowl flew across the room and hit Roy in the face.
XXX
A nurse brought Edward a fresh bowl of broth, with explicit instructions that he was to eat all of it or she would personally reinstall the nutrient drip to his neck.
Edward had called her bluff – or he'd tried to.
The nurse started priming the line and Ed suddenly found his appetite.
"Everyone was worried about you, Brother."
Edward huffed and looked away.
"You didn't need to. I was fine – I am fine."
"No, you weren't. You were very sick and everyone was very scared." Al's helmet tipped towards the floor so that Ed lost sight of the glow of his blood seal. "I was scared."
Edward's broth churned in his stomach.
"I… I'm sorry, Al. I didn't mean to."
"It's not your fault, Brother. It's no one's fault. It just… happened."
"No, it didn't."
Roy stepped into the room, his face and hair wet from washing broth off himself. If it wasn't for the fact that his eyebrows were so close together Edward wouldn't have seen anything more than his typical expression of strategic disinterest. He knew that Mustang had enough control over his countenance to hide his feelings whenever he pleased, so the fact that the colonel was allowing his nervousness to express itself made Ed feel less honored and more uneasy about whatever it was the man had to say.
"Fullmetal… Alphonse," he added after a pause, as if only now deciding that this concerned Edward's brother as well. "I have not been completely honest with you."
"Eddard!"
A small creature darted through the doorway and between Roy's legs. It bounced off of Alphonse's knee and onto the bed, landing in Edward's lap where it promptly buried its face in Ed's chest and burst into sobs.
As they all stared at the little boy crying into Ed's hospital shirt, Nurse Dorothea sprinted into the room in her heeled shoes, her hair frazzled and her eyes searching.
"Samuel! What are you doing!?"
Edward had recovered enough to pat the crying boy on the back and shrugged at the nurse – or started to, then stopped when the soreness reminded him not to.
"This one yours?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mister Elric, sir! Sam, get off him this instant!"
Samuel pulled away, hiccuping and sticking his lower lip out the way small children do, but he did not let go of Edward's shirt. Now able to see his face properly, Ed tilted his head as he pondered his surprise visitor.
"Hey… Hey, aren't you that kid that got stuck in a storm drain a couple months ago?"
Samuel's demeanor changed completely. He squealed with excitement, throwing his little arms around Edward's neck and squeezing so hard Ed made a croaking sound.
"He knows me, Mommy, he knows me! Stevie said his brain would be broke and he wouldn't be able to talk or nothin' but he knows me!"
Nurse Dorothea briskly walked to the side of the bed and made to take her son.
"That's wonderful, sweetie, now let's go back to the lounge where you were supposed to stay until Mommy's shift is over –"
"Did you get my present, Eddard? I got you the best teddy in the whole store and I bought it all by myself but my school helped a little bit."
"He sure did!" Alphonse answered for him. "He slept with it the whole time. It made sure he had only good dreams."
Ed's face turned pink.
"I… I what?"
"The older kids got you candy but my daddy says that toys are better than candy even though they're more 'spensive 'cause you can only eat candy once but you can play with toys over an' over again –"
"That's enough, Samuel –"
"Wait, wait, I had a teddy? Like, a stuffed bear?"
"It was a present, Brother, it would be rude not to accept it… You kind of sweated all over it, though, so it's being washed right now… Why, do you want it?"
"…No."
"That was a very hesitant 'no,' Fullmetal."
"Go kiss some broad, Mustang."
"Brother, please! Not around Samuel."
"Please, Samuel, let's go."
" – but he said, 'I got the super sour ones and those are better than anything else,' and then I said, 'Maybe Eddard don't like the sour ones, you never met him and I did, so I know better than you –"
"Hold on, did you say I have candy?"
"Sir, I've just been told of a child missing on the premises. We should – oh."
Riza stood in the threshold, took in Samuel on Edward's lap while the boy's mother had her hands under her son's arms in an attempt to pull him away, and Roy and Alphonse looking startled while Ed craned his neck this way and that in search of a mystical bag of sweets.
"Am I interrupting something?"
cAn i GeT a WaFfLe?
cAn I pLeAsE gEt A wAfFle?