Central Command was eerily quiet that night, which really shouldn't have been shocking considering it was well past 11 and most soldiers had called it quits for the day, it was just a strange feeling seeing the hallways completely devoid of people, a harsh contrast from the busy scatterings of soldiers that were usually scurrying around.
The silence was thick enough to cut, raising the hairs on the back of Roy's neck and encouraging him to spare a glance over his shoulder every now and then.
He fingered through countless folders in his filing cabinet, searching for that one specific file that he had used to threaten his subordinates on the rare occasion, but never intended to use. Ironically, now that he did need it, he couldn't find the damn thing.
A request for approval of a Court Martial. He always had a few hanging around just in case of a disaster like the current one he had found himself in. It all just made him feel so goddamn useless.
He couldn't protect Ed from that bastard Stratton, he couldn't keep Ed safe even in his own work place, and now he couldn't even find a single damn leaf of paper that would actually begin to make things right for once. He was letting the kid down all over again.
The same kid he had left sick and alone in a hospital room.
The longer he thought over his decision, the more guilt welled in his stomach. He had only left in order to help the boy, but perhaps he was doing more harm than good. After all, Edward's fear of all things medical wasn't exactly scarcely known. He wondered how he was doing at that moment. Was he scared? Was he cold? Was he getting any rest? Was he in pain?
Roy sighed. He found himself constantly being torn to and fro with decisions about Ed and his well-being, and none of them ever seemed to be right. Is this what Maes feels like all the time?
He was really beginning to wish he had stayed with Edward and simply sent Riza and the General by themselves to pick up the paperwork, especially considering they both knew that desk work wasn't exactly his forte.
"Roy, I think I've found it." Riza called triumphantly.
She had been searching Roy's desk while he looked through his filing cabinets and General Grumman scoured the outer office, and it had still been 15 uninterrupted minutes without finding anything, until now.
She straightened up from her crouched position, rubbing her previously hunched back with one hand with a stapled pamphlet of forms in the other.
Roy wasted no time in padding over to her side to eagerly look over the document, the general following not far behind.
Official Amestrian Military Court Martial Request
His heart sagged in his chest with relief.
"Yes, Riza! You are an angel!" He cheered, holding the document with two hands in front of him and shaking it back and forth with glee. General Grumman looked over Roy's shoulder, confirming they had the right one, before smiling in shared excitement. Roy turned to him.
"Alright, General. Anything else we need from here?"
The General shook his head with a warm smile.
"I don't believe so, and even if we did, surely it can wait until morning." He assured them, waving a dismissive hand. "Let's go see your boy. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you both."
Roy didn't even react to the implication of Ed being 'his' boy, and perhaps it felt right somewhere, as he was too busy turning to the door and getting himself back to Edward's side to harbour a reaction. Ed was waiting for him, and no time could be wasted.
It was getting harder and harder for Ed to tell if the tightness in his chest was his emotions or something more severe, though no matter how melancholic he had ever found himself to be, it had never made it so hard for him to breathe before.
How long had it been since Roy and Riza had left? Minutes? Hours? Days? He couldn't be sure, only knowing that it had been minutes hours and days too long.
The room felt even more barren than usual without them, and the emptiness seemed to seep through him and fester in his chest, ridding him of the very air he breathed.
Even the stark white of the walls appeared a dingy grey in the thin light of the monitors, and though he was completely wrapped up in the fluffy taupe blanket Riza had wrapped him up in earlier, it didn't quite keep the chill away.
His lungs seemed to shrink and shrivel in his chest, and every breath rattled as if there was a loose part within him. He sucked in each inhale as deep as he could muster with the sharp stabbing in his diaphragm, but it still wasn't enough, and each breath came shallower than the last.
Tight ropes of steel lassoed around his chest, leaving him clawing at his throat for air. Each choked breath burned like acid as if he were surrounded by acrid smoke, though he could clearly see that his surroundings were as clear and plain as ever.
Faint and rapid beeping danced through his ears as darkness began to peek at the edges of his vision. He screwed his eyes shut, focusing only on getting any kind of air into his lungs, but to no avail, only managing to create a choked kind of sob noise.
The only sensation he could feel was the burning in his chest and the pounding in his head as his body screamed for air, until there was warmth.
Two strong arms snaked around his waist and he was pulled against a warm body, and some of the pain seemed to dull against the sheer peace and sense of safety the embrace brought. It wasn't anywhere near gone, though.
His wrists were pulled away from his neck and restrained by a pair of strong hands, and it was only then that he realized he had scratched as his throat hard enough to draw blood in his hypoxia-fueled frenzy. He unconsciously pulled against the arms holding him back, just trying to get a breath in, but he was no match in his weakened state.
He only barely registered something rounded and hard being pushed against his face before he was plunged into darkness.
Roy was thankful that the hallways of the hospital were so sparse late at night, as he was walking with no restraint for speed, making a bee-line for Ed's hospital room. Grumman and Riza thankfully just followed, not posing any questions. Roy got the idea from their casual and fond smirks that they understood.
He passed by countless doors full of sick people, women, men, children, and the elderly alike. He paid them no mind, counting the numbers on the doorways until he located the one that belonged to Edward's room.
He made to run into the room, but was stopped in the doorway by an unexpected shrill noise and a sight that made his knees go weak.
There was Ed, sitting in the middle of the hospital bed that was too big for him, clawing at his chest that caved with every breath, his face red with lack of air as his oxygen monitor screamed in protest.
Roy swore loudly, showing no concern for the sleeping patients in other rooms as he ran up next to the bed, sitting himself behind Ed and scooping him up into his lap, blankets and all. His head shot up to Riza and the General who were still frozen in the doorway.
"Get a nurse!" He yelled, urgency strong in his voice.
He didn't look to see if either had complied, instead kept his focus on the shaking boy letting out raspy half-breaths in front of him.
He noticed with a growing sense of panic that his lips were tinged blue, and he had scratched his neck so hard that blood had caked under his fingernails. He took hold of the boys hands and held them in each of his own to keep him from hurting himself further and held him tightly against his chest, despite his struggling.
"Listen to me, Ed. You need to calm down, okay? You're gonna be okay, you're alright." Roy soothed, but it seemed as if the boy couldn't even hear him, his eyes darting around in a panic as he struggled to breathe.
Andrew, their nurse from earlier, burst into the room, Riza and her grandfather close behind. He hurriedly pressed an oxygen mask against Ed's face, not even bothering to slip the elastic over his head, just holding it in place as Ed sucked in needy breaths of the sweet air. The second he took a deep breath of it, his eyes rolled back, his struggling ceased, and he went limp against Roy's chest. A surge of panic flowed through Roy.
"What happened? Is he okay?" He asked anxiously, his eyes darting between Ed and Andrew as the man slipped his stethoscope under Ed's jacket and blanket and pressed it against his chest. Roy relaxed a bit upon seeing that it was still rising and falling, in fact it was doing so much easier than it had been. Andrew shook his head.
"Don't worry, he's just fainted," He explained in a calm and steady voice, his brow furrowed in what could either be worry or thought, perhaps both. "The infection must have spread to his lungs." He added regretfully, removing the stethoscope from his ears and throwing it around his neck. He stood from the bedside and checked up on the IV bag with a pinched together brow. "He must need a heavier round of antiobiotics. I'll be right back."
With that, he turned on his heel and hurried out of the room in search of more medicine.
Roy turned his attention back to the unconscious form in his lap, filling with a bittersweet sense of relief and guilt. He should have never left Ed alone by himself. What would have happened to him if they had been just a few minutes longer? The simple thought itself made him sick to his stomach, and he didn't even want to think about it any further. Instead he just held onto Ed tighter with one hand, pressing the mask against his face with the other and settling Ed's head under his chin.
The hand he had over the mask was suddenly covered with another smaller one, little fingertips attempting to pry it away from his face.
Roy jolted a bit in surprise, quickly relaxing and filling with relief upon seeing confused golden eyes looking around the room as Ed tried to get the mask away and gauge his situation. Roy pushed Ed's hand away from it and kept it pressed against his face.
"Leave it, Ed. It's helping you."
Ed's brows furrowed in annoyance and confusion, but he let his hand fall back into his blankets anyway. He let out a small raspy breath and unconsciously curled up into Roy, who was unintentionally acting as a heat source in the bite of the cool hospital air.
It was then that Andrew hurried back into the room, smiling when he saw Ed's half-lidded eyes staring down at the bed sheets as if they were the most interesting thing he had ever seen.
"Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?" He greeted softly, hanging up a new bag of medicine on the IV stand and fiddling with some tubes.
Ed blinked lazily as if to bring him into focus, groaning in response.
"Not so great, huh?" The nurse chuckled, a sympathetic look on his face as he secured Ed's IV line to the hanging bag of yellowish fluid. "This should help clear up the infection, you automail patients always have the most stubborn immune systems." He mused, shaking his head. He turned back to Ed and Roy with a warm smile. "Let me know if it doesn't feel like it's working within the hour, okay? Especially if it gets any worse."
Roy nodded for Ed, who seemed to be more entranced with the pattern of the man's shirt than his words.
Andrew nodded his acknowledgement, sparing one last sympathetic glance at Edward before slipping out of the room, leaving the three soldiers to stew in their guilt-soaked relief.
They could only thank whatever higher power that might be out there that they had gotten there in time. Perhaps a doctor would have come to Ed's aide anyway even if they hadn't been there when they were, but yet again, perhaps not, and it was painful just to imagine their lives without the little ball of fire they had all come to know and love. After all, with fire comes inevitable warmth and light.
So they listened to the wheezing breaths into the night, even if they were strained, at least they were there, his chest still rising and falling, no matter how shaky it was.
Roy slipped the elastic of the mask over Ed's head and leaned back into the bed, shifting Ed on his lap so that his head laid against his chest and Roy's arms wrapped around the boy's torso, opting to just sleep next to him instead of in the chair, so in the case Ed were to need anything in the night, he would know right away.
So he laid there, Ed falling into an uneasy sleep rather quickly, undoubtedly exhausted from his earlier fit of choking. Roy followed soon after, having been nearly as tired as the poor kid from the sheer terror of seeing him like that, especially when presented with the idea that he could have lost him. So they slept, only hoping that the next day would be a little brighter.
The night dragged on.