When Alphonse entered his office, appearing as much like a nervous little boy as his armor allowed, Roy was sure Fullmetal had ditched his responsibilities on his younger brother. Roy refrained from saying anything and merely looked cooly at the boy, watching as the child guiltily handed over a report clearly written by his hand, it was too neat and careful to be Fullmetal's.
Usually Roy would comment, but at the moment he was actually grateful that the Elder Elric brother had decided not to come in.
An epidemic had hit the city, it had been dubbed the Esperanto Flu after a neighboring country which had been hardest hit by it. It was spreading fast in Amestris and was particularly prosperous in urban areas. It seemed to affect children the worst and anyone above the age of sixty.
Though many soldiers were out of commission, the barracks a breeding ground and the hospitals swamped, there were very few casualties. Breda and Falman were both sick, though they'd communicated that the illness was akin to the common flu and aside from feeling miserable, they weren't doing bad.
With children so vulnerable, Roy was actually grateful Fullmetal hadn't come in and he was very grateful that Alphonse didn't have a body. The boy luckily wasn't staying in the barracks as far as he was aware, he'd been invited to take residency in the home of one of the officers who had moved his family out to the country until all of this boiled over.
Alphonse politely exited the office and shut the door. Roy for his part looked over to the time. It was just past 1400.
Hawkeye had come down with the illness. She was at home. Most of the military was at a standstill, there wasn't much paperwork on Roy's side of it all, and he couldn't really do much.
Letting out a sigh, he stood and went over to grab his coat.
Havoc and Fuery were the only ones left in the office. Roy dismissed them and walked with Havoc out to where the car was.
The early spring air was still bitterly cold and whipped around them.
"Crazy all this happening Colonel, your wish to not have paperwork actually came true," though it was a joke it fell flat.
Roy didn't say anything in response. This wasn't exactly what he'd been hoping for. The military grounds were silent, a silence which carried over to the car and was kept by the two men.
The scenery flew by, the streets hauntingly empty and the few inhabitants out and about hurrying past with their heads hung low and eyes on the ground. It reminded Roy a little of Ishval.
"Drop me off here," Roy said, a sudden idea dawning on him.
Havoc glanced over in surprise at his officer.
"We've still got six blocks till your place, Colonel," Havoc replied, looking back at his superior officer in confusion.
"Here will do," Roy responded.
Havoc pulled the car over and glanced back questioningly at Roy.
"Maybe don't smoke right now 2nd Lieutenant, I can't imagine it helping if you do get sick."
"Got it," Havoc replied, a little put off by the worry being expressed by Mustang.
Roy climbed out and watched Havoc pull away. He glanced around and took in the modest buildings which were generally housed by officers and their families. Fullmetal should be staying in number 678.
It was a couple blocks down in the opposite direction of his house. Not that Roy minded walking, it would be nice to have some time to think.
As he went along, the emptiness of the streets felt oppressing, something ominous about them. He wasn't worried about Fullmetal, he was just doing what Hughes had been hounding him to do since this whole flu thing had started.
The family man had sent his wife and newborn on a train to the countryside to stay with the Rockbells. Little places out there were thought to be less affected. Roy wasn't sure if it was true, but he hoped his friend's family was safe.
He passed one house where two little girls were outfront playing hopscotch, a morbid little rhyme being sung which though witty, also was depressing.
Roy approached the house and knocked at the door. He planned on speaking with Fullmetal, definitely berating him, and maybe just making sure the kid had all the food he needed.
Alphonse was the one who answered the door. There was some blood smeared on the metal of his breastplate, a rusty color and starting to flake, while there were fresher smears of it on the leather of his gauntlets.
"Colonel? What are you doing here?" Alphonse sounded stressed and surprised.
"Where's Fullemetal?" Roy asked, glancing past Alphonse and into the dark house.
"B-brother's not feeling well," Alphonse replied.
The way it was said made Roy's stomach flip.
"What do you mean, Alphonse?"
"He-he wouldn't want me to say, he didn't want anyone to know, but he's really sick Colonel."
Roy stepped inside and glanced around. The downstairs looked a little messy, as if someone had left in a hurry. It didn't surprise Roy since many people had fled the city, at least those who could afford to. The officer who owned the place was no doubt one of them.
"Brother's upstairs," Alphonse said quietly.
Roy looked to the giant armored boy. He was acting unusually child-like, looking to Roy as if he were an adult. Which he was, but it was unusual to experience either of the Elric brothers asking for or acting like they needed help.
He climbed the steps, not having taken his coat off or gloves. A small part of him hoped that this wasn't serious and he would be on his way in a few minutes.
The guest bedroom was on the left and as Roy entered, his nose crinkled at the smell of illness. The sound of Fullmetal's labored, crackling breathing echoed through the space. The boy was bundled up on the queen sized bed, blood streaked across the sheets and poorly wiped from his face.
"He-he keeps getting nosebleeds, I-I don't know what to do," Alphonse said in a quiet, trembling voice.
Roy was stunned. He wasn't entirely sure what he should be doing. Just by walking in the room he was putting himself at risk. But Fullmetal looked close to death and he was his subordinate. Stripping off his thick military coat and tucking his gloves in the pockets, he threw it across the dresser.
"How long has he been like this?" Roy asked softly.
"A few days," Alphonse replied.
The boy was lingering at the door, shuffling nervously on his feet. Roy glanced back and realized that right now Alphonse was depending, in a child-like manner, on him to fix this situation completely.
Roy approached the bed and reached a hand out to place it against Fullmetal's forehead. It was warmer than it should have been, but the most troubling thing was how poorly his breathing sounded.
"Fullmetal?" he hazarded.
The boy didn't stir.
"Edward," he tried again.
This time Edward's eyes flickered for a second before opening at half-mast, glazed and rimmed red.
"Al?" his voice was hoarse and weak.
Roy shook his head. "It's Colonel Mustang."
"Mom?" the boy said again, a hand threading out of the blankets to weakly fumble about in search of Roy.
The boy's gaze was blank, but his eyes seemed to be tracking Roy, if not completely lucid. Roy looked back at Alphonse.
"Has he eaten anything? Drank anything?"
Alphonse shook his head no. Roy let out a soft sigh. Edward Elric looked bad.
"Well, let's try to get him something to eat."
Down in the kitchen there was luckily still quite a bit of food left behind by the family, though much of it was perishable, luckily they had a large stock of canned items. Roy managed to get what he hoped was soup into a pot and lit the stove.
Alphonse lingered nearby the entire time.
"Brother's going to be alright, isn't he?"
Roy looked over his shoulder at Alphonse. The boy was only eleven, almost twelve, but all the same, he was expecting Roy to fix this.
"I don't know Alphonse," Roy replied honestly, "but I'm going to try my best to keep him alive."
Bringing the food upstairs, Roy saw that Edward's state hadn't changed at all. His breathing was still just as awful sounding as before, and he was still asleep. He wasn't even sure feeding Edward would make him worse or not, but he did know that like all humans Edward at least needed to eat and stay hydrated.
Setting the bowl on the nightstand he again called Edward's name. The boy didn't stir this time. Roy reached a hand out and gently shook his shoulder. His eyes opened.
"Edward, can you hear me?" Roy asked.
The boy's head moved a tiny bit in acknowledgement.
"Can you eat?"
Edward just gave a sluggish blink, not responding.
"I'm going to help you sit up, okay?"
Edward gave a tiny nod again. Roy reached around to help the boy up, but it was difficult with his automail weighing him down. Alphonse came over and helped. They managed to get him somewhat upright.
The boy raised a shaking hand to attempt to take the spoon, but he dropped the utensil. Exhausted pain eyes looked at Roy.
Roy hadn't ever dealt with this Fullmetal before, it was disturbingly sobering. Under all his bravado and genius, Fullmetal was a child.
Grasping the spoon, Roy proceeded to feed Edward by hand, the boy only managing half the bowl before he fell back asleep. Roy set the bowl to the side and looked up at the other Elric brother.
Alphonse was standing there anxiously.
"Can we remove his automail, just for now? It might not be helping him."
Alphonse nodded his head, but as he stepped forward to help, he hesitated.
"It hurts him, whenever it gets connected."
"And disconnected?" Roy asked.
Automail took energy, an unnecessary amount of energy which at the moment the boy didn't have to spare.
"I-I don't know, I think so, brother doesn't like to tell me."
Roy rubbed at his forehead, this entire situation quite beyond him. He remembered very little of what Madame Christmas did when he or one of his "sisters" was sick. It usually involved constant bedrest and a lot of liquids and soups.
Roy pulled the blankets away and dragged Edward's shirt back so he could see the port and the attached arm.
"How exactly…?"
Alphonse came forward and helped. It took a few minutes, but the arm was quickly disconnected. Edward didn't stir throughout the process.
When they were set to the side, Roy felt Edward's forehead again. It was still too warm. He eyed the abundance of blankets surrounding the boy and glanced at Alphonse. The boy probably couldn't feel his brother's fever and had done what he thought would comfort his elder brother.
It was a sweet gesture, but the fever, if it got worse, could kill Edward.
Roy sighed, looking down at his subordinate. The child wasn't going to get better right away, and that meant he was going to have to stick around for a while, Alphonse was not equipped, physically or emotionally, to handle his brother's illness.
He glanced around the room and saw a rather uncomfortable high backed chair pushed up against a vanity.
"Would you bring a chair from downstairs up here, Alphonse?"
The boy hesitated out of confusion, but he nodded his head in affirmation. Roy meanwhile started to snoop through the house. He needed some cloths and some cool water to help with the fever, and maybe he could get Alphonse to do some laundry.
He briefly considered just taking Edward to his house, that way avoiding having to fumble about another person's house. But it would involve moving the ill boy, something which could also prove fatal.
Roy found a basin and moved it to the room and also managed to scrounge up some cloths. Alphonse meanwhile had brought up the rocking chair from the living room.
With everything set up, Roy settled down to wait.
Every little bit, he changed the compress, and attempted to coax Edward to eating. When evening came he called HQ and gave them a heads up.
The next two days passed very slowly. Edward regained some consciousness, actually recognizing Roy, but he spent most of his time sleeping. Roy taught card games to Alphonse and held both scientific conversations and ones about life.
It was amusing how much the boy knew, and yet how little he understood of life.
At the end of the fourth day, Edward was walking around. The boy didn't seem to want to acknowledge Roy's presence during his perceived "weakness", but he'd refrained from yelling at Roy.
In the morning on the fifth day, both Elric brothers in better spirits, Roy blessedly left the house and walked home. He'd made them promise to call him if something happened or if they needed anything.
Everything was still empty, everything terrifyingly quiet. Makeshift hearses were the main traffic, transporting the masses of dead to places where they could be disposed of.
Roy was very grateful Edward Elric was not among them.
When he arrived home, he collapsed on his couch and smiled. At least he could rest now.