Thank you all so much for reviewing! As usual, the site's emails are still wacky, so don't trust them for now... and as promised- enter the parentalness! :D
Man, all you guys were so mad at Roy last chapter! Wow, wasn't expecting that :D Don't worry, though; the hospital heard your complaints and has decided to step up Roy's treatment, so it doesn't happen again! So- everything that happens to Roy here? It's for you guys! Allllllll for you! Enjoy! :D
As promised, Ed's punishment lasted longer than usual.
It didn't matter. He was used to it.
He was completely numb by the time the nurse pushed him back into the usual ward. He was used to that, too. Used to being so numb and drained he didn't even mind the wheelchair, because without it, he'd be facedown on the floor. Used to being so out of it he half slept through the journey back, closing his eyes in the ice bath room and opening then again as he was rolled back into the small, locked ward that was his home. Used to being so tired he couldn't even shiver.
His entire body hurt.
The nurse pushed him into his room and said something, but his head was too full of a sleepy buzz for him to hear it. He saw her smile at him, though. That usual, condescending, patronizing, sick smile.
They always smiled when they hurt him.
Like he deserved it. Like it was his fault.
And then...
She left him there.
Finally. Alone.
This was usually the point when Ed would just painstakingly crawl onto his bed and sleep. He was exhausted and hurting, but now that he'd finally been left alone he had his chance to just close his eyes and drift away from it all- to not be here for a little while- and Ed was too broken down to want anything more than that. He could hide in here away from the nurses' prying eyes and just take one moment to not have to hold himself together any more.
But today, he couldn't let himself do that.
Ed waited a few moments after the nurse had left his room, ensuring she was really gone and everything was done for the day. Then he found himself waiting a few moments more, stuck in his cold, exhausted stupor and too damn tired to make himself move at all. He wanted to go to sleep. He wanted to shut his eyes and not be here. He- he wanted-
No. No, Ed... you CAN'T.
He couldn't.
Roy...
Slowly, tremulously, Ed raised his hand, forcing the numb fingers to form a shaking fist several times. Pain spiked down the limb, a numb soreness tingling in his fingertips, but he'd just been through worse and he was used to this, too; he just flexed his hand, slowly trying to get enough bloodflow back into his fingers, shivering as the movement woke his arm up just enough for him to feel the cold.
He had to get moving. He had to find Roy.
Obviously, his fellow prisoner here was safe... obviously. Ed had heard what they were going to do to him; he'd been through it himself plenty of times, and here he still was. Obviously, Roy had to be fine right now.
But what if he wasn't?
What if he'd heard one thing but they'd done something else? What if Roy's attempt to fight back had been more successful than his? What if they'd been planning something else all together?
What if he got to Roy's room and he just wasn't there?
As cold and tired as Ed was, the spike of panic was muted, underneath the pain and exhaustion. But it was there all the same, and it was what kept him moving, even when all he wanted to do was curl up here and never wake up again.
If Roy was gone...
I'll be alone again.
Ed finally managed to get himself out into the hallway, and was just too tired to work up the will to search for any dangerous nurses. He couldn't do it today; he could barely keep himself moving at all as he fumbled his way down the hallway, each little weak push to his wheelchair barely getting him even a few inches of progress. It all hurt. Moving hurt. The friction on his hand, the tension in his arm and shoulder, just sitting up straight right now- god, it was getting unbearable now. He could feel his muscles cramping, crying out in protest as they tried to lock up from the chill but he wouldn't let them, pushing himself inch by inch, scrabbling on down the hallway until he reached the one other door here that meant something to him.
If Roy was gone, he'd be alone here.
Again.
And it would be his fault.
If they'd done something to Roy...
You should've just kept your fucking mouth shut about that tattoo, you idiot, Ed.
Finally, his heart pounding in his ears, his cold hand still shaking, and trepidation building up again in his skull, Ed reached up a freezing hand to wrench Roy's door open.
He sagged with relief.
It took Roy a few long moments to look over at him, and when his eyes finally landed on him, they were more confused and bleary than anything else. Ed hesitated again, lingering in the doorway and still shivering, shivering from some painful aftermath of the relief and the still omnipresent cold, but something him in stopped his attempt to retreat back into the hallway again now that he'd seen Roy was okay. He wasn't sure what, really- but all he knew was that his options now were either to drag himself all the way back down the hallway and somehow maneuver his way into bed, or just to stay here. His exhausted, screaming body voted for option two, and knowing that, Ed pushed himself the rest of the way into the room and let the door swing shut.
Besides, if he stayed here, he wouldn't have to go back to his room and be alone.
Even Roy, shit company that he was, would be better than that.
"I'm... sorry..."
Ed shrugged a little at the rasp, fixating his eyes back down on his lap again. "Don't worry about it."
But Roy pressed on insistently, slurred voice shaking a little as he tried to get the words through to him. "I tried... I told them, you d-didn't... wasn't your fault. But..."
"They don't listen to us. Got that part, yet?" Ed shrugged coldly and still kept his eyes down, struggling hard not to shiver or let his teeth chatter again. "They think we're crazy. You could tell them the hospital was on fire and they'll just pat you on the head and smile. There's nothing you could've done, so just leave it alone."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roy helplessly open his mouth again, looking as if he just wanted to say something to make it better, but could already tell there was nothing. But still, he insisted onwards, and Ed finally managed to drag his eyes up off his lap to hesitantly meet Roy's glazed ones again. "What'd they... do to you...?" Roy stopped again, working his jaw as if he couldn't find the words. "You look..."
"I'm fine," Ed said brusquely, waving it off. "Don't worry about it. They do it all the time."
Once again, Roy's glazed eyes rested heavily on him, insistent with their need to know. He tried speaking again but words failed him, and Ed just shook his head again, but was too tired to glare back. "I'm fine," he said again, and nothing more.
Roy would find out for himself just what it was the nurses had done, after all.
"...I'm sorry," the older man sighed at last, a sound of defeat, and just rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling. He blinked up at it confusedly several times, as if he'd lost his train of thought, then wrenched himself back onto it with a visible exertion of effort. "If I'd known they'd... they'd blame you... wouldn't have asked. ...sorry."
Ed found his gaze dragged back down to his lap again, sucked away like a magnet, and suddenly, found his throat too tight to respond. He nodded, fingers shaking.
A strange warmth started to grow inside him, just a spark, and it was nothing to combat the heavy chill that weighed down on every inch of him- but it was there, all the same. And with a tiny start, Ed realized that this was the first time he could ever remember anyone actually caring about what happened to him.
His throat went even tighter, and any words were then completely lost to him.
It was quiet for a few moments, Ed still shivering and staring miserably down to his lap, Roy blinking fuzzily at the ceiling. Finally, Ed heard a little tug from the bed, and glanced up just in time to see Roy tiredly pulling at the restraint around his wrist, frustration and annoyance twisting across his pale face. "C-could you help...?"
Ed shook his head, and he was so tired and cold and hopeless anyway he barely even felt guilty for it. "They'll see it when they come back and just put it back on, then get mad at us both. It won't do you any good."
Roy's brow furrowed hopelessly, gaze drifting between him and the restraints again. he frowned, confused eyes wandering uncertainly between the two for a few long moments, like he couldn't quite make sense of it or had forgotten what he was going to say, then just collapsed bonelessly against the mattress, letting his tied hands fall back down. "Oh."
"They'll- they'll do it themselves, eventually," Ed found himself rushing to say, as if that might justify him just sitting here like a useless lump and not doing anything to help. "Once the drugs wear off. They'll come back then."
Roy's eyes darkened, narrowing into a glare but still focused on the ceiling. "They said I... the drugs... said I had to c-calm down. But I wasn't..." He trailed off, frustration vibrating through the slurred words."I didn't..."
"...I know." He looked back down at his lap, swallowing tightly. "They... do that a lot. To me, at least."
There was another few beats of silence. Roy's eyes were wide again, resting on him, and Ed wasn't sure whether or not to look back at him or just keep staring on down at his lap, the surprise and concern in the wake of the revelation making him uncomfortable. "It's going to hurt," he stumbled out with at last, just needing to say it. "Later tonight. The drugs make you really fuzzy at first, but then that'll wear off, and it'll hurt a lot when they do. You, um... might see things, too." He broke off for a moment, voice wavering uncomfortably as he averted his eyes from Roy's wide, shocked ones again. "...It helps, if you just remind yourself it's temporary, and'll wear off when the drugs do. Try and think about something else, too."
The word weighed uncomfortably on the silence, and he could feel Roy watching him again, glazed eyes still wide. When he finally managed to look up at the older man again, he could see the shadow of apprehension on his face, and it made his stomach twist again with the guilt that there was nothing more he could do to help.
"...Thank you f-for... for telling me," Roy said finally, the words faint and uncertain, and Ed just nodded back, lowering his gaze back down to his lap.
"Like I said earlier, there wasn't anywhere there to do it for me," he mumbled, then shut his mouth and let the uncomfortable silence return.
It seemed like Roy was having trouble keeping his train of thought, which wouldn't have surprised Ed at all- by the look of him, he'd only been like this for several hours. Whenever the nurses did this to him, they left him like that for the night. He still had a long way to go before he'd really be coherent again, Ed realized with a quiet pang of loneliness, one that he immediately told to just shut up. If Roy could handle this, he could handle being lonely. Hell, he had handled it now, for weeks, just because he'd had no other choice. Besides, Roy would be fine. He looked like he'd already gotten sick a few times, but the nurses had cleaned it up- luckily for him, since sometimes, they forgot to. Or just didn't care. But they seemed a little more attentive this time around, so at least he knew Roy would be fine. The drugs would wear off, and they'd let the restraints off of him, and then everything would be like it had been earlier today and it'd all be fine.
Guilt and lonely despair curled up in him again, making him shudder just as violently as the cold, and he couldn't help put pull his knee up to his chest and curl around it.
Roy frowned again, dark eyes flickering vaguely between him and the wall. "You sure you're... you're... okay?" he fumbled, blinking. "You look... c-cold..."
Ed jerked, yanking his shivering hand out from where Roy could see it and shoving it between his leg and his stomach, burying it in the folds of his thin shirt. "Said I'm fine."
Roy shifted a little, the motion awkward in the restraints as he tried to nod down towards his blanket. "Y-you can have... if you want..."
Ed shook his head before he was even aware he was doing it, hunching over on himself even more violently. He didn't even know what it was about the innocent offer that made him rebel so much against it- maybe just the offer of help at all. Because he didn't need help, because he was fine. He'd lasted this long without help, hadn't he? He wasn't useless, he wasn't sick- he didn't need anything or anybody except getting the hell out of here. "I'm fine," he repeated coldly, and through sheer force of will, his teeth didn't chatter. "Besides, I've got one of my own back in my room. No need to steal yours."
Roy frowned at him, but the expression was haggard and weakened with exhaustion. His gaze darkened with concern as it swept over him again, clearly not fooled in the slightest. "Are you sure?" he asked weakly, tugging on the restraint his wrist again as if to reach for the blanket himself then groaning in frustration when the strap caught and held fast. "I can... Ed, you look... don't..." He sighed again, once again frustrated, this time seemingly with himself and his own inability to get the words across. "You don't look well," he managed finally, each word slow and determined, forced out as if through a great effort.
"I said leave it alone," he snapped back weakly, but somehow couldn't stop the small grin from touching his face. "You're one to talk, you know."
Roy watched him a moment longer, glazed features twisted with concern, then just offered him a tired smirk back, rolling his head away to look back towards the ceiling. "'S quite... quite rude," he mumbled, the words fading and slurred even worse, like he was about to fall asleep, and once again, Ed just couldn't help but grin back.
He waited for a second, unsure if he should leave or not. Experience told him Roy probably was about to pass out, and would stay that way for a while- he probably should try and go do the same himself. But when he glanced at Roy again, just lying there helplessly, breaths shallow and eyes unfocused, he found himself hesitant again, unsure of what to say. He remembered well enough what it had been like the first time they'd done this to him- or, not well enough, through the constant drugs... but enough that he remembered how terrifying it had been. He hadn't known what was happening to him, why'd he felt so wrong, why he was being tied down, what he'd even done to deserve being punished like this and if they would ever let him up again. They'd just left him like that for the whole night.
Even through the drugs, he'd been so scared he'd barely slept at all.
And even though Roy looked fine right now, all Ed could suddenly think was that that night wouldn't have been quite so bad for him, if he could've had somewhere there with him through it.
He looked to Roy again, chewing on his lower lip, the words catching in his throat. "...Roy?"
The older man grunted, then blinked, making an effort to focus again. "What?" he mumbled, eyes blearily searching for him.
"...you care if I stay in here for a while?"
"...What?" Roy asked again, blinking tiredly. He frowned for a moment, as if confused by the question, then just slowly shook his head, gaze resting on him again. "No... no. Go ahead..."
Ed sighed, sinking back into the wheelchair and wrapping his arm around himself again without a word more. Then he was staying, then. Another bit of warm relief filtered through his chest, spreading happily through his arm and leg, and it was only then that he realized maybe his motives weren't so selfless, because maybe he didn't want to be alone right now, either- but it didn't matter. Roy was too out of it to notice, and him being here was helping Roy, too, so it was fine.
"Take the blanket, then."
Ed started at the sudden grunt, jerking his gaze back up to stare at Roy. Despite the abrupt words, he still looked a little unfocused, glazed eyes flitting between him and the wall, but there was iron in his voice, and whenever he managed to focus on Ed there was iron in his gaze there, too.
"I- what?"
"Take the blanket," Roy repeated stiffly.
Ed sat up a little straighter, shaking his head even as he pushed himself a little back into his wheelchair, trying to play off the order like he was fine. "No- no, I told you, I don't need it, you're-"
"Either take it, or g-get out... of my room," Roy snapped back impatiently, eyes narrowed in an order- because, Ed realized, that quite clearly was an order. Roy was serious.
Probably because he knew that was the only way to get him to do what he wanted.
Ed stared at him in disbelief.
"...You're unbelievable," he managed at last, even as he slowly leaned forward just enough to pull the blanket over. "You're seriously unbelievable, you stupid- stupid jerk. I'm trying to help you here!" He hesitated with most of the blanket in his hands again, glancing searchingly back at Roy, almost hoping the man would take his words back so he could return it.
Roy, however, just gave him a small, little smirk of victory, and turned his exhausted eyes back to the ceiling for the last time. "As am I," he murmured, still smirking, and shut his eyes.
Ed continued to gape at him for one second more.
Then, the frantic desire for warmth at last overcame him, and for the first time since they'd drowned him in that bucket of ice he yanked the thick cloth tightly around him and buried himself in it all the way up his nose, leaving only just enough exposed so he could still breathe.
And, bliss.
Finally.
Perfect, warm, bliss.
This was, quite honestly, the best he could remember feeling in his entire life.
His still shivering fingers worked happily into the cloth, toes worming around it to keep it firmly tucked underneath him as he shrugged it up over his shoulders a little more, leaning his head against the folds. Gratitude spread in his chest, gratitude along with a stubborn annoyance that Roy had got his way after all, when this whole thing had been supposed to go the other damn way, with him taking care of Roy-
But right now, he was just too warm to care.
Ed snuck another glance at Roy, wincing a little now that the blanket was gone. He could see the straps around his ankles, too, now, just as tight as the ones around his wrists, and where the IV was stuck in his other arm, still pouring poison into his veins. He looked dreadfully pale and exhausted, barely conscious at all, and Ed made the decision then and there that the moment that idiot looked cold, he was giving this back, because it wouldn't be long until Roy was asleep and wouldn't have any say in the matter. But for now, as long as he was awake and could stop him...
Damn it, who was he kidding. Anybody who wanted this blanket now was going to have to pry it from his cold, dead fingers.
"...Thanks, Roy," he mumbled, the words muffled into the blanket, far too soft to be heard, and settled himself just a little more comfortably back into the wheelchair.
Ed had been right.
The drugs they were pushing into his veins hurt.
First, it had been the dull fuzz of a sedative, a torture only in that he couldn't catch his thought or force his tongue to form words. Ed had been sitting right there, shivering and shaken, eyes shadowed with a vulnerability there hadn't been before, and Roy had known something was wrong, but it had taken all his effort just to keep conscious. He hadn't had strength to even ask him about it.
Well, now the sedative was completely worn off, all right.
And he definitely wanted it back.
He felt like a wrung out dishrag. Every inch of him sore and aching or worse, muscles screaming and the restraints so tight he couldn't even stretch or curl up against the pain. His head was pounding, hands twitching spastically, stomach twisted into a tight, anguishing knot; he could feel his heart beat like it was being crushed in a vise, each and every single hard beat of it- god, it fucking hurt. He was freezing and sweating all at once, torn between being burned alive one minute and freezing to death the next. He was absolutely miserable.
If it hadn't been for Ed warning him this was how it was going to feel, he could grudgingly admit now, he probably would've been scared out of his mind right now.
Again, somewhere beneath the pain and spreading, hopeless despair, sympathy touched him, because he couldn't imagine how Ed have ever gone through this alone.
Another spasm grabbed him and he clenched his jaw against it desperately, fighting to keep the pain locked in his throat and silent. His body shook, straining out of his control against the restraints, and for an anguished heartbeat, he saw red.
Just a heartbeat, though. Because he couldn't let himself lose control now.
It took a few moments but finally, when the harsh wave receded just enough for him to latch back onto reality again, still lapping at his mind but no longer drowning him in it, he turned his head back to the left, and looked once more at his one and only visitor.
Ed still curled up in the wheelchair at his side, exactly where he'd been planted for hours now. He was entirely buried under the borrowed blanket, just a tiny, Ed-shaped lump underneath the folds and smothered up above even his chin. The blanket wasn't that great, but Ed was small and had been determined enough to make it work... Roy didn't think he'd seen into a fingertip or toe slip out from the covers since he'd scammed Ed into taking it, hours ago.
A good thing, evidently, because Ed was also now fast asleep.
Part of Roy had decided it was most certainly not a good thing. Ed should be lying down in his own room. Sleeping sitting up like that was probably going to be murder on him the next day, and he'd surely be warmer in his own bed, too- but the rest of him doubted Ed would've found the strength to leave even if he'd wanted to. Yes, he looked a little better now, but whatever the hell those nurses had done to him was still weighing on him terribly. His color had recovered only from a terrifying, sickly shade of grey to a dreadfully ashen complexion instead, with the shivering reduced to a minimum but still, even after being buried under covers for hours, not gone entirely. He'd looked freezing since Roy had first laid eyes upon him, and no matter what he said he knew that he was not okay.
His eyes, shut for hours, were shadowed still, and the look on his face, even in sleep, was... wrong. He looked vulnerable, somehow; like an injured dog licking his wounds in the corner, hiding from its master.
Except instead of licking his wounds, he was huddled miserably under a blanket, and instead of a corner, Ed was hiding in his room.
Despite his words earlier that night, looking like that... Roy just didn't have the heart to throw him out.
Ed shifted a bit in his sleep, a frown touching his half-hidden face. "...Al..." he mumbled, shivering, and slipped a little bit more onto his side.
His fingers stretched miserably, wishing just to reach out and fix the blanket that had fallen, exposing the rest of his face and a little bit of his shoulder. He still looked freezing. God, he still looked he had no rights doing anything but curling up back in bed under a mountain of blankets until he'd thawed out. Roy gritted his teeth with another little moan, tugging angrily on the straps as he tried to reach for him, frustration and misery coalescing inside him- if he could just reach-
Pain spasmed through him again, grating and unbearable. A hot wave that tingled from head to toe and locked his teeth together, kept quiet, because he was not waking Ed up now, and he kept his gaze on him too- the one and only anchor that he had.
The one thing he had to keep him sane, when he was locked in a psych ward and being told he was pretty much everything but.
When the hallucinations finally started, though, Roy decided any line of thought that depended on his sanity was pretty much a lost cause.
Still sometime in the middle of the night, this god damn night that felt like it had gone on forever already, so many hours that there could surely be no end to them. He knew it was a hallucination because Ed had told him this was going to happen, and here it came, right on schedule- even though his brain still screamed real.
He was hallucinating, drugged out of his mind, and locked in a psych ward, but Ed promised him he totally wasn't crazy.
Yeah. Right.
It was a woman. Older than Ed, but younger than him. A slight figure that materialized from grey smoke and stars in the doorway to his room rather than walking in, blonde-haired and brown-eyed, dressed all in a faded, indistinct blue and a sharp gaze that held nothing but expectant judgement.
"Who am I?" she asked.
Roy blinked.
He stared.
He blinked again.
...Hallucinations. Right.
But...
"Who am I?" she asked again, in a voice that cut straight through him like glass.
But hallucination or not... something still just clicked.
The way it had felt when he'd looked at those strange tattoos- arrays- the way he'd touched them and known it was familiar. Something had just clicked inside him then, and now, looking at this faded, flickering ghost of a woman, something clicked inside him again.
"Who am I?" she asked him, and stepped closer.
Roy stared at her breathlessly, equal parts alarm and eagerness flickering through him like lightning. I'm supposed to know, aren't I? I'm supposed to know who she is, but I can't... I can't...!
"You know me," she challenged to him, then a step closer, a step closer, another step closer, and then suddenly she was there, standing right at his bedside and as imposing as an executioner. "Say my name, Mr. Roy Mustang."
The familiarity of it screamed inside him alongside the bone-deep pain and he swallowed a cry, pain lancing through the recognition. He tried to jerk away, the logical awareness that it wasn't real offering no quarter to the soul-deep fear inside him, but the restraints held and the woman reached a hand out, hovering it just within reach of his. "Say my name."
I don't know it! Again he only swallowed the words just before they'd leapt free, some whisper at the back of his mind cautioning him to keep quiet, for Ed's sake, always for Ed, Ed all but forgotten behind the shadow of this woman, and he lurched away again, the bed creaking and the restraints tightening like snakes. Tell me your name and I'll say it, but I don't KNOW it!
"Yes, you do." She paused for a terrifying moment, looking down at him in impassivity. "Elizabeth."
Roy jerked away, a bead of cold sweat rolling down the back of his neck. Elizabeth... "Eliza...beth..." He rolled the name around his mouth, testing it, tasting it with his tongue. Elizabeth...?
Is... is that your name? he tested uncertainly. It didn't feel like her name. It didn't feel right at all. He looked at the shadowy ghost, at her golden hair and cold eyes and the blue shrouding her slim form, he looked her all over and something in him knew every inch of her, but-
"You know that's not who I am."
Roy stared harder, confusion twisting around the agony sweeping through his muscles. He jerked and almost cried out again; the spasm that tore through him was unbelievable but she just watched him still, no sympathy, no help- just a single, unanswerable question.
Elizabeth... Elizabeth, Elizabeth... he knew it wasn't her name, he knew it wasn't right, but... but how did he know it? And why? Why would she say it if that wasn't who she was?
Elizabeth...
"Tell me why you know me. Tell me who I am."
He shook his drugged, muddled head slowly, fighting for coherency even as he spoke to someone who wasn't even real in the first place. But I don't- I don't-
He didn't know her, but he did. Every single inch of her, he knew better than he knew himself- he had to! He just had to!
But what was her name?
Not-Elizabeth reached a careful hand forwards again, this time touching it straight to his. It- not real it's not real- hurt, every fingertip of contact hurt, so damn much- Ed said it's not real, it's not real, it's not real!- a livid burning sweeping through his arm, lit matches stuck to his skin and burning oil in his blood, oh, god-
"Ah! Ah! Stop, stop-"
"You burned me, Mustang." Her long, pale fingers climbed around his, latching on tight and oh, god it hurt, it hurt so badly-
"Stop! Stop, please!" He wrenched frantically away but his arm wouldn't move; why wouldn't it move?! You're hurting me! I didn't- burn you, I wouldn't have ever, I-
...would I have...?
"You burned me," she challenged him again, not even an accusation this time but a calm statement of fact. A deep, empty night sky expanded behind her, seamless deep black as she leaned straight over him, brown eyes meeting his, so close he could hardly breathe even as he fought to get away. He couldn't move, why couldn't he move?! "Why did you burn me?"
I DIDN'T! I WOULDN'T HAVE! I- I-
"Why did you burn me, Roy?" She was too close, pressing in on top of him; all he could see was her eyes, burnt auburn boring through his skull, her hands sizzling brands into him; there was a screaming in his head that sounded like birds, "Who am I?"
The room burst into flames that flickered against the night sky, and Not-Elizabeth burned with it.