It had been a really slow week, but Ed was finally being released from the hospital, much to both Ed and Roy's relief. The kid had been driving him crazy the entire time he was in the hospital, nagging him about when he would be able to get out of the hospital. Finally, Roy would be able to tell him that yes, he could go home at last.
Ed seemed to be doing much better at least. He could breathe without looking like he might double over, and he could walk around by himself. He was still pale and his movements were slow and deliberate, but he looked far better than the small huddled up kid covered in blood he had held in his arms days before. Roy never wanted to see him like that again.
He had just signed Ed's release forms, and he was padding down the hallway to his room to tell him the news. It was around midday, so the halls were sparsely populated as many doctors and nurses took their lunch break. Roy's footsteps echoed against the tile floor as he approached Ed's door, which was cracked. He pushed it the rest of the way open, revealing Ed and Al crouched over the tray table that ran over the bed, littered with papers and textbooks.
"I'm telling you, Al. If we can get our hands on some Xerxian alchemy notes, I bet it'll send us way ahead in our research." Ed proposed, tapping his finger against a sheet of paper, scribbled with words and transmutation circles. Al hummed uncertainly.
"I'm sure you're right, brother. But how would we find something like that?" Al reasoned, holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger. Roy shifted his weight uncomfortably in the doorway.
"Uh, sorry, am I interrupting?" He asked, hand still resting on the doorknob. Ed, having been so focused, nearly jumped out of his socks upon hearing Roy's voice. He winced with the movement, wrapping his flesh arm tighter around himself. Roy held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, kid. Didn't mean to scare you."
"It's alright, Colonel. Why don't you come in?" Al stated politely, urging Roy into the room with a wave of his hand. Roy smiled and nodded, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.
"Okay, well I've got something you'll probably like to hear." He declared, a smirk growing on his face. Ed's head shot up, his expression still holding hints of pain.
"What? What is it?" Ed asked anxiously, looking for any news towards when he would be able to get out of bed.
"I just signed your release papers. You can go home today." Roy announced, smiling at the look of pure bliss and relief plastered on Ed's face.
"Yes! Finally!" He grinned, gingerly but eagerly hopping out of bed and walking to his suitcase, pulling out his outfit. He stood hunched over slightly, his arm still wrapped protectively around his abdomen.
"Easy, kid. Don't rip your stitches before we even leave the hospital." Roy teased, helping Ed find some clothes to wear. When he had pulled a red hoodie and grey jogging pants into his arms, he scurried into the bathroom to get dressed. While he was in there, Al tidied up the documents and Ed's suitcase, packing it all up neatly and clipping it shut. A few minutes later, Ed exited the washroom. He was wearing his pants, but still holding his shirt, a look of defeat on his face.
"Um... I can't lift my arms high enough to put this on." He admitted, a slight flush creeping onto his cheeks.
"Oh, don't worry brother. I'll help you." Al offered eagerly, stepping over to Ed and taking the sweater from his arms.
Roy took the opportunity to take a look at Ed's battered torso.
Though it had been covered by a bandage, Roy could imagine the long incision that trailed from just under Ed's chest all the way to just before his back. Peeking around the edges of the gauze were deep purple bruises, blending into his skin with sickening shades of yellow. A little bit under the large bandage was another smaller one, covering the few stitches sealing the hole of where the chest tube used to be. Roy shuddered upon remembering when the doctors had removed it. With one quick pull, the long tube had slid out of Ed's chest, slicked with blood. Roy couldn't imagine how unbelievably uncomfortable and unsettling that must have felt.
Ed eased his arms up with a wince until they were out almost parallel to the ground, sagging at the elbows. Al carefully slid the sleeves over Ed's arms and pushed the sweater over his head, covering his injuries and cutting Roy off from his fantasies. Ed gently tugged the edges of the fabric so that it laid comfortably around his body.
"Okay! Let's go! I'm ready, let's go!" Ed declared eagerly, tapping his foot anxiously.
"Alright, Ed. We can go, but you have to sit first." Roy stood, gesturing to a nearby wheelchair. Ed raised a brow questionly.
"What? Why?! I can walk just fine!" He protested, walking a few steps in a circle in example.
"You shouldn't be walked long distances, and you need as much rest as you can get. Plus, it's hospital protocol. So either you can sit, or a cranky old nurse will make you sit." Roy explained, pointing a stern finger at the wheelchair. Ed frowned and wilted a little.
"But-"
"No buts, brother." Al interrupted, guiding his brother to sit in the wheelchair. "The colonel is right and you know it. You do want to go home as quick as possible, right?"
Ed looked like he wanted to protest, but must've realized his brother was right, so opted for sitting in the chair and sulking instead.
"Fine. Let's go." He griped, leaning his head on his automail hand with his flesh one sitting around his waist.
Roy pushed the chair into the hallway, waving at the occasional nurse and smiling politely. Ed just wore an unimpressed look, not saying a word until they reached the hospital doors. As soon as Roy rolled to a stop, Ed bolted upright out of the chair as fast as his injuries would let him. He stepped outside, sighing in relief in the cool breeze and warm sun. Just then, Riza pulled up to get them in a black car. Roy hurried forward, opening the car door for Ed before he got the chance to hurt himself. Ed glared at him, but gingerly sat himself into the back seat anyway, Al following close behind.
"Hi Ed, how are you feeling?" Asked Hawkeye, turning around to take in Ed's condition. He smiled.
"I'm much better now that I'm out of that dump!" He asserted, nodding his head to the hospital. Hawkeye smiled at him reassuringly.
"That's good. So, to the dorms?" She confirmed questionly, turning the wheel and pulling out of the parking lot. Ed nodded.
"Yeah, but I'd like to stop in to headquarters to pick up a few files first, if that's okay."
Hawkeye nodded. "Of course."
The rest of the ride was rather quiet. Ed looked exhausted despite constantly reassuring everyone he was fine, so he didn't really strike up any conversation, and the others decided to leave him be and let him rest for now.
A few minutes later, Hawkeye was turning into the HQ parking lot, as close as possible to the doors so that Ed didn't have as far to walk. Roy again opened Ed's door, earning another annoyed glare. They all hovered anxiously around Ed as he hobbled towards the door, his arms wrapped around himself. He walked slower than usual with his back hunched slightly, taking pressure off of his stitches.
Upon entering the building, Ed was met with many curious or sympathetic stares. He sighed. Either they had heard about his little 'incident', or they could just tell he was in pain by the way he was acting. Ed was too tired to act like his side and lungs weren't killing him.
The stairs were the worst part, with Al eventually just picking Ed up halfway through, seeing that every step was causing him agony. Ed had protested, but not as heavily as usual, secretly grateful for not having to walk the rest of the way. Al gently set him down at the top of the stairway, which wasn't far from Colonel Mustang's office.
Ed was the first to the door, and as Roy watched, he was almost certain this was the first time Ed hadn't kicked open the doors. Instead, he just turned the knob, still holding an arm around his body.
The office was a mess of happy greetings from the team.
"Hey, Ed! How are you feeling?" Asked Fuery, a warm smile spread across his face.
"I'm great. Just came to get some files." Ed replied, though his croaky voice and pale skin wasn't convincing.
He waddled over to his desk, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a few sheets of paper while the team all crowded around Roy, inquiring about Ed's condition.
"How is he really, boss?" Breda whispered, eyeing Ed warily as he winced with every movement.
"Yeah, Lieutenant Havoc hasn't been around to tell us anything and there are rumors about what happened, but we don't know for sure." Added Falman, who looked like he desperately wanted to tell Ed to sit down.
"He had a rather rough interaction with Colonel Stratton." Roy explained vaguely. "He badly broke one of his ribs, which caused a pretty severe puncture in his lung." He continued, earning concerned glances from his colleagues. Ed continued to rummage through his drawers, unaware of the worried stares burning into him. "He had surgery to repair the damage, including a titanium plate being screwed into his rib, 17 stitches in his lung, and a chest tube that stayed in place for 5 days afterward."
Fuery held a hand over his mouth in shock, Breda winced sympathetically, and even the ever-stoic Falman paled upon hearing how badly Ed had really been.
"God, I knew it was bad, but damn." Breda muttered, watching Ed as he tapped some papers on his desk so that they lined up neatly. Roy nodded solemnly.
"Yes, trust that the necessary disciplinary actions will be taken to ensure another incident with Colonel Stratton doesn't happen again." Roy assured, professional code for 'if that asshole ever touches that kid again I'll beat him into the ground myself.' The three nodded in understanding.
Ed padded back over to Al, handing him the stack of papers he had collected.
"Okay, that looks like everything we need. I'm gonna go to the bathroom and then we'll leave, okay?"
Al nodded, clipping the papers together with a small black clip and tucking them into his armor. Ed patted him on the arm before ducking out of the room and closing the door behind him. Roy resisted the urge to follow him to make sure he was okay.
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Ed wondered if they thought he didn't notice them staring at him as he walked down the hallway. Sure, he knew he looked a little under the weather, but was it really worth this much attention?
He had only been walking for around 2 minutes, and so far every single soldier he encountered had a weird look for him.
He thought about what kind of rumours had been spread about him while he was gone. Did everyone think he was a wuss now? Did they think he wasn't strong enough to stand up to Stratton? Maybe they were right. Physically, Ed would have no problem with the man, but he didn't have the strength to stand up to him and tell him to stop pushing him around. On the other hand, maybe they all thought he had been dead and were now wondering whether or not Ed was a zombie. Ed smirked at that.
Eventually he found the bathroom, feeling relieved upon finding it empty. He didn't really feel like socializing. He knew that some of them were just genuinely concerned, especially Mustang's team, but he was just too tired to uphold a conversation. He appreciated that there were people who cared about him, though.
When he had finished, he walked up to the sinks to wash his hands. After one quick look in the mirror, he focused on his hands. He didn't want to spend any more time looking at his blackened eye and stitches more than necessary.
He reached out to turn off the tap, but before his fingers could graze the handle, a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him dead in his tracks. His eyes froze open, the rushing water still ringing in his ears.
"Hello, Elric." Whispered a familiar venomous voice into Ed's ear. The words slithered under Ed's skin and down his spine, and he swore he felt his heart skip a beat.
"You and I are gonna have a little chat."