When they arrived at the emergency room, they were taken back immediately. Upon noticing the bundle of blankets and sweat-slicked blond hair in a wagon surrounded by military officers, the nearby nurses all came to their aid. Their actions quickly switched from concerned to urgent when Roy had explained the infection and fever, and it was mere minutes until they found themselves being ushered into a room.
Riza, Roy and Havoc all sat in armchairs placed around the edges of the white-walled room, cluttered with monitors. Al had opted to stand, hovering over his ill brother with worry present in his stature.
In the center of the room lay Edward, shivering on the bed that was much too large for him, his pallor competing with the stark sheets beneath him.
The doctors had stripped him of his blankets in attempts to bring down his temperature, for which he had greatly expressed his distaste; even through his fever-induced delirium. It had taken two nurses and a doctor to wrench the comforter out of the boy's grasp, even in his weakened state. Ed was too dazed to realize that they were helping him, only knowing that they were taking away his soft and fluffy source of warmth when he felt frozen to the bone. They had decided to leave the blue military jacket, for fear that they would be bitten if they even attempted to pry it out of his death grip.
Their heads all shot to the door following a faint knock, aside from Edward of course, who was still grumbling unintelligibly over the loss of his blankets.
In the doorway stood a timid-looking young man with mousey brown hair, glasses perched upon his nose. He must have been around Roy's age, if not a few years younger. He smiled warmly at the group, stepping into the room.
"Hello, I'm Andrew." He greeted, offering them an introductory nod. "I heard someone needs a round of antibiotics." He added, eyes falling upon the shivering form that lay upon the bed. He padded over to Ed's bedside, smiling down sympathetically at the trembling boy.
He hooked the small bag of pale yellow fluid he had been holding onto the IV stand next to the bed and attached a long clear tube into the bottom of the bag. He dug through his large coat pockets, pulling out a few packaged items Roy recognized from his own hospital experiences as materials for an IV port.
The man now known as Andrew crouched down beside the bed, tearing open a few items and gathering them in his hands. He searched Ed's glossy eyes for any shred of lucidity, but found little to none. He offered him a comforting smile.
"Hey, kiddo. I know you probably don't really know what's going on right now, but I bet you aren't feeling too great, huh?" He crooned, gently taking Ed's flesh hand in his and wiping it with an alcohol swab. "I know that everything must be hurting, and this might hurt a little too, but it's gonna help you get better, okay?"
Through the fog of sickness clouding his mind, Ed must have decided that he liked the man with the gentle hands and soft words, as he let his eyes fall closed and didn't fight when his hand was poked and prodded at. In fact, he seemed peaceful, even when there was a needle deftly piercing his skin.
Soon there was an IV catheter in his vein and the man was securing it against his hand with a generous amount of tape. Since they were in the pediatric ward, the tape was baby blue and patterned with teddy bears, which Roy knew the kid would endlessly protest against if he were awake enough to do so. Though he himself thought it was quite adorable.
"There that wasn't so bad, right?" He remarked, screwing the IV line into the port on his hand before giving him a few congratulatory pats. As soon as Andrew had set Ed's hand back down onto the bed, he pulled his arm back to his body, tucking it back into Roy's jacket that he had long since claimed as his own. He curled tighter into his ball, following the nurse with his hazy eyes as he stood from his crouched position with a warm smile. "Okay, kiddo. You should start to feel the effects of that medicine soon, and it should help bring down your fever." He assured him, packing away his scattered supplies. He turned to the three military officers in the room. "I'll be around, don't hesitate to call for me if he needs anything."
They all nodded, though it was absentminded. Their minds were still jumbled up with worry for their tiny alchemist. Andrew nodded to them with a reassuring smile, before dipping out of the room.
The three military officers and the suit of armour found themselves stuck in their thoughts, sick with worry over the delirious kid on that dreaded hospital bed.
"What are we going to do?" Havoc asked softly, padding over to Ed's bedside and kneeling down next to him, just staring. His heart broke at the pain in his golden eyes, the lack of understanding. He didn't know why everything was hurting, and he didn't know why Jean couldn't take it away, his mind too hazed over with the infection riddling his beaten body. He just looked so confused, so pained, and it was breaking all of their hearts. Havoc pushed the bangs away from Ed's face and over his head, the hair sticking down to itself with sweat. "We can't let Stratton hurt him anymore, he's nearly killed him." He declared, voice breaking with the gravity of the situation. He kept running his hand over Ed's hair, the kid seemingly finding comfort in the touch. He turned to Roy, brow furrowed with worry and frustration. "We have to do something, Colonel." He pleaded, fear for his youngest comrade in his eyes. Roy sighed with a strained nod.
"I know, Jean. Trust me, I know." Roy assured him, rubbing his face with his hands as if he could scrub away the stress that seemed to encase his whole being. "And believe me, I've tried." He added, his voice breathy with defeat. "I've sent countless letters of complaint, and I've received zero responses. Not one, not even an acknowledgement that they were received." He rambled, growing increasingly frustrated with the ignorance of the higher-ups. He sighed, shaking his head wearily. Before Havoc could even think of a response, Roy's head popped up in realization, a new light in his eyes. "Oh my god, I can't believe I didn't think of this before." He mumbled to himself, shooting up out of his seat. "I can't believe you didn't think of this before." He added, grabbing Riza by the arm with a hopeful smile.
"Sir?" She questioned, hobbling behind Roy as he pulled her along.
"If the higher-ups won't listen to me, I'll go to the only one that will." He explained vaguely, his trademark smug grin bringing some life back into his eyes. He could hear faint remarks of confusion and protest from Havoc and Al as he tugged Riza out of the room, but he was too focused on trying to find a payphone to care. He let out a breathy chuckle. "After all, it's been a while since I've had a worthy chess opponent."
Riza's eyes widened, her bewilderment fading as her expression softened to smile of understanding.
"He'll be happy to hear from you, sir. Every time I'm on the phone with him he mentions you." She recalled, filling with a rising sense of certainty that Ed's situation would finally be taking a turn for the better.
Roy swirled a number he hadn't dialed in a while into the phone, holding the receiver up to his ear with a smile on his face. The phone rang for a while, and after a long while of just listening to the dial tones, Roy was beginning to worry that the man wouldn't pick up.
"General Grumman speaking." Called a drowsy voice from the other end. Roy's shoulders sighed with relief, before he tensed up with realization. He cursed under his breath.
"Uh, sorry, sir. This is Roy Mustang. What time is it where you are?" He asked sheepishly, biting his fingernail.
"It's 3:30 am, Roy. Not that I'm not happy to hear from you, but this better be good." The man replied, wakefulness slowly drifting into his voice. Roy felt a twinge of guilt as he heard the click of a lamp turning on in the background.
"Yes, sir. My sincerest apologies. I completely forgot about the time difference in my haste." Roy explained, scratching the back of his head.
"What's the matter, Roy?" He asked, apparently having heard the worry in Roy's voice.
"Well sir, you of course know my youngest subordinate, Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist." A quiet chuckle rang through the phone.
"Ah, yes. I could never forget that boy." The General mused.
"Yes, well, I'm in the hospital with him right now, and this is the second time I've had to take him in for injuries he's sustained from Colonel Stratton."
The line went quiet for a few moments as the general processed the news.
"Tell me everything."
Roy sighed. "A little over a week ago, Edward came into my office with a black eye, broken ribs, and a gash under his eye that ended up needing five stitches. Turns out he had run into Colonel Stratton on his way in, and he had kicked him around. Unprovoked, I might add." He began explaining. "I was about to take him to the hospital, when on our way through the hallways, we ran into Stratton again. He didn't see us walking behind Ed, and threw him to the ground. Hard."
General Grumman hummed uneasily, acknowledging that he was still listening.
"I told him off a bit, and then went to help Ed off of the ground." He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. "The fall had shifted the broken rib, and punctured his lung. Next thing I knew he was coughing up blood and nearly dying in my arms, and he would have if the ambulance didn't get there when it did."
"Oh my god..." Was all that the man could muster in response, taking in just how close the 13 year old came to dying.
"Yes, sir. Anyways, the next week was spent in the hospital. 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." He recalled, picturing the solemn face of the surgeon as he had told him of the procedure.
"The poor boy... How is he doing now?" Asked the General, already completely sobered up from his sleep.
"He was doing well, sir. Until yesterday." Roy informed regretfully. "He came into the office after he was released from the hospital, just to get some files before he went back home to rest. Before he left he went to the bathroom, and when he came back nearly 15 minutes later, he was covered in blood with nearly half of his stitches torn. Colonel Stratton apparently had no problem with beating an already extremely ill child fresh out of the hospital, just days after he had nearly beaten him to death."
"That rotten man! I've heard many complaints about Colonel Stratton over the years, but this... This is just inexcusable."
"I agree, sir. Today he woke up with a nasty infection in the incision site, and now he's laying in a hospital room with an IV line of antibiotics and a fever so high he doesn't even know what's happening." Roy seethed, trying and failing to keep the anger from his voice. "I've tried and tried to get something done about Colonel Stratton's unspeakable actions, but to no avail, which is what brings me to you, sir. I can't just let this slide, he's nearly killed Edward twice, and I can't sleep at night knowing that man might hurt him again."
"I completely understand, Roy. I don't know how anyone could inflict such devastating abuse on a child, military or not. Something needs to be done about this, and I assure you, I won't stop until that man pays for what he did." General Grumman raged, determination apparent in his voice. Roy felt a wave of relief come over him. Finally, he was making progress.
"I can't thank you enough, sir. Really."
"It's no problem, Roy. I'd be happy to help in any way I can, especially if it involves that boy of yours. He's a brilliant kid, he definitely didn't deserve any of this."
"I'm glad we agree on that, sir. Thank you so much, and I'm sorry again for waking you." Roy apologized sheepishly.
"It's quite alright, son. I'll see you soon, I hope." He chuckled.
"Yes, sir. I've been dying for a game of chess." Roy smirked, feeling quite accomplished with himself.
They said their hastened goodbyes before Roy was replacing the phone receiver back on the hook, his faded face from his long days of worrying brightened up with a new feeling of hope. He turned to Riza, placing his hands on her shoulders and offering her a warm smile.
"Have I ever told you how lucky you are to have that man as a grandfather?" He chuckled, turning his nose to the air with relief. "My grandfather had more hair in his nose than on his head and he liked to hit me with a ruler." He sighed, looking down into Riza's mahogany eyes. He pulled her into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around her and setting his head atop her blonde hair. "Everything's going to be okay now. After so long of worrying about whether or not that kid's gonna live or die, he's gonna be safe. I just know it."
Riza smiled into the man's chest, breathing in the cologne settled in the cotton of his military jacket. She returned the hug and held him close, letting the embrace rid her of all the anxiety she had harboured away. Her grandfather had a large influence in the military, and she knew he was true to his word.
The two stood their in the hospital hallway, their military blues contrasting against the sea of white. They knew people were staring, but it was hardly concerning.
Edward would finally be safe.