Chapter 10
A/N: Wooh, apparently I'm feeling especially inventive this week. Have some more!
Edward already resented coming back. It seemed that a permamnent haze had settled in. Once the sun set you couldn't see more than a few tents in front of you. The small, smoky fires spread throughout the camp made it into a red nightmarish, landscape. The next day at breakfast, he sought out Conelly and his friends. Seeing none of them, he made his way to the new Officer's Mess. He found his eyes persisting in slipping shut and he shuffled there, fatigued from a sleepless night. In the dark of the tent, Roy didn't seem to fare much better. His dark, shaded eyes looked puffy and bloodshot. He hunched over his watery coffee substitute possessively.
"Good morning, Colonel," he said curtly. Roy nodded at him. He sat down his rations heavily on the table. "It's weird. I could've sworn there were more people," he mumbled as he began to unwrap the box, examining it's contents for edibility.
"Ah," Roy voiced, biting at the corner of a biscuit. "Things have happened. You were gone for two weeks, Major Elric." He continued to keep his eyes downcast until he felt eyes on him. Edward was watching him steadily and curiously.
"We've engaged in battle and there's an epidemic in the trenches of the northern front. It reached us while you were gone," he ended the sentence with a dignified sip. Edward felt a familiar desire to punch Roy Mustang rise in his gut.
"Is there a strategic reason you decided to not tell your second in command this information?"
"It didn't seem necessary at the time, Major. I apologize." A silence spread between them and the sound of clearing throats and cutlery on trays.
"Whatever," Edward mumbled around his egg slurry.
"In regards to your previous request, due to it's sensitive nature, I feel it would be best if you were accompanied by myself." Edward choked and flushed. His mouth seemed to open slightly in opposition, but he silenced his protests.
"How're you going to swing that?"
"That's personal. Just leave it to me." They both took sudden interest in their food again, Roy coughing slightly.
Edward soon fell back into step, menial officer duties filling the smoggy hours between dusk and dawn. A week later, the subject still hadn't been broached. Occasionally Edward felt pressed to bring it up, like in the mornings where he woke to a pressure rising from the bed with a creak. He would try to rise with it but a gentle caress to his forehead would send him pitching back into sleep. He was finally also noticing more now, the persist coughing that echoed through the smog just like when the Trench Fever raged through it. He felt like he had just set foot back on an island he had only just escaped from.
A new call came in. A push was coming through for officers to begin learning basic Drachman. Many groaned at the meeting as packets were being handed out. Fate had found him seated unhappily next to Roy as a nervous Sergeant from Linguistics chattered in front of the congregation, occasionally pushing up her tiny glasses and pulling at her short black hair. She was Barbara Fitzimmons and Edward found himself briefly marveling at her resemblance to a more average Lieutenant Ross.
"So anyways, I thought I would just start everyone off with introductions," she giggled shyly.
"Меня зовут, Barbara. Now you say it," she encouraged. Beside him Roy murmured
"Меня зовут, Roy," Roy murmured reluctantly beside him. It took an hour before breaking pairs to practice. They were attempting a pleasant conversation about the weather but Edward found his clumsy lips fumbling with the guttering rounded language that seemed to pour off Roy's tongue.
"You bastard, you already know Drachman, don't you?" Edward hissed at Roy's pallid, shit eating grin.
"Да, немного. I'm not an expert," he laughed. Edward spent some time pressing Roy's knowledge of the language, fumbling through nonsensical sentences concocted from a dictionary.
" мы уезжаем, Major," Roy murmured casually. Edward struggled with the conjugation. We are leaving tomorrow. Edward frowned, briefly not understanding.
" Куда мы идем?" Where are we going?
" Возьми меня к воротам," Roy pushed. Edward frowned, trying to translate the last word. Roy waited patiently while he turned through the dictionary. Воротам, the gate.
"Когда мы оставим?" When do we leave?
" утром," Roy smirked, rising and dusting ash from his pants. The morning…