C is for Cold

A/N I don't own FMA. And I am so, so sorry for not updating sooner. I forgot to explain that Roy used the philosopher stone so he could see, I'll include something about that later~ Also please review. These comments are my life. OH AND IMPORTANT! CHAPTER 2 WAS EDITED! BECAUSE WHY NOT? Mmmkay, that's it.

Hot. Sandy and hot. When it came down to it, that's all the desert was. Nothing but miles upon miles of barren, sandy wasteland. There were no plants– just cacti with spikes sharper than a steel sword. There were no buildings- just an expanse of sand stretching farther than the railway tracks that zigzagged right into central station. There were no people- just an empty, unpopulated plain that was quitter than- oh wait; there were people. And not just one ambling idiot that had managed to land their dimwitted self, astray in an unforgiving desert. Oh no, not at all. In fact, there seemed to be two numbskulls who brilliantly ended up marooned in the middle of the nowhere. "Oh well," a ravenous vulture swooped up from the sky. "More for me!"

The heat was downright unbearable. It had scorched the tender flesh of Roy's pale skin (which was now an inflamed shade of red), slathered him with sweat, and even had the audacity to make his hands- the very same hands which had faced flame after flame, snap after snap- to curl up in his palms out of pure discomfort. A sheen of sweat had drenched his five foot ten body and he was shrouded in moisture.

And yet, no matter how heated Roy felt, and how suffocating and sticky his dress shirt was, he couldn't even begin to sympathize with the stubborn teen who tiredly trotted several meters ahead. Fullmetal had initially put up a good face. He masked his exhaustion with exasperation, his soreness with snide remarks- but now? Roy carefully watched the muscles of Ed's back contort as he took each shaky step. Roy dug his trembling hands in to his stitched pockets and was greeted by the familiar rough cloth of his ignition gloves. Though the gloves were a welcome reminder, Roy shuddered at the thought of using it

"We haven't encountered any hostile enemies yet…but" Roy, hesitantly trailed off. He'd worry about enemies later, at the moment, the only opposition they faced was the sun. Roy gazed upon Edward's coatless back. While Roy had chosen (more or less) to keep his fancy sweltering coat on in fear of sunburn, Edward had opted for tying the "elongated housedress," as Edward so eloquently put it, around his around his waist. Immediately after he square knotted his jacket through the loops of his leather pants, Roy had immediately scolded him for his ignorance.

"What would have happened if you burned your back to a crisp?" Roy had initially threatened. "Do you honestly think that I'm going to drag your charred ass back home?"

For once in his life, Edward had simply glared back and snarled, not particularly caring for a comeback. As soon as Roy was about to curse the boy for being so thick-headed, the words on his tongue died as fast they appeared. Edward's eyebrows were creased in the concentration, and sweat beaded down his tanned face. No doubt, that fullmetal was in pure agony from having to trudge his metal leg across the desert for ten miles? Fifteen? Roy had lost count. Ed's fancy white dress shirt looked worse for wear: there were rips where the cotton had been torn from the seams and clung to Edward's skin.

"Godamnit! We haven't seen a single person for miles!" Whether or not the fact that the two had yet to stumble upon any form of civilization was of concern, was unknown to the less-than friendly duo. In fact, ever since their last heated argument (the puns are strong with this one), the two had yet to utter a peep to each other. It was childish, and would probably be considered downright pathetic in Lt. Hawkeye's book but Roy didn't have the patience in him to care.

"Imagine," soldiers would say after they dug up their bodies from the barren desert, "two of Amestris's most powerful state alchemists in history…" Roy could just picture his higher-ups smug faces, all of them more than pleased at Roy's untimely demise. "…deader than a doornail, because they couldn't transmute a measly drop of water." Roy's left eye twitched.

And the Lt.? How would she fare after she learned that her beloved boss had shriveled up in a backwater desert in the middle of nowhere? Would she shake her head in dismay and sigh over his stupidity? Or would she break down in a fit of tears and hysterics? "Probably the former…" Roy mused. "Doesn't matter, I won't give her the opportunity for either," he concluded, wiping some stray sand off his brow.

"We have two options laid out before us," Roy formulated. "We either keep moving in search of shelter. Or we make our own, somehow." Roy panted like a dog, his hands clenching the knees of his dress pants in a death grip. Several spots in the sand had turned a shade darker where droplets of sweat had landed. He inhaled slowly, scrambling to catch his breath, but in the end he only ended up panting even harder. Roy smirked, "panting like a dog, how fitting," he grimly smiled.

"When did it get so quiet?" Edward wore a puzzled expression as he noted the absence of Roy's heavy footsteps crunching in to the sand. With the effort of lifting an Armstrong, Edward craned his neck forty-five degrees past his slouched shoulders only to see the colonel practically sprawled out on the sand. He sighed, letting the air rack through his weary frame.

Edward pivoted his heels to a one-eighty and shakily sauntered over to his tire-stricken superior. His flesh leg shook with every step, and after a mere three feet, he was practically dragging his automail leg through the sand. After what seemed like a small eternity, he finally managed to slog himself right in front of Roy's slumped figure.

"Hey bastard, get up," Ed sternly commanded as he half-heartedly glared down at Roy. The corner of Ed's mouth twitched. He envied Roy equally as much as he aggravated the older alchemist at the moment. How nice it must be, to allow yourself to simply sprawl out among the desert dunes and drift to dreamland. Unyielding resolve, Ed currently decided, was both a gift and a curse.

"Hey colonel dainty-face, get your ass up and moving." No response. Not even "dainty-face" so much as stirred the colonel from his slumber. "Huh," Edward shrugged as he carelessly flicked Roy's forehead. "There's a first time for everything."

Edward hovered his face a mere three inches away from Roy's sensitive ear. "Come on, colonel wet-match, we don't have all goddam day here," he mocked.

His pink tongue (which now felt more like an antique leather hand bag) came out to lick his chapped lips- a sure sign that he was satisfied with his most recent insult. After all, if it was anything Edward picked up from his frequent screaming matches with his egotistical jerk-face superior, it was that any insult that remotely had anything to do with water, would immediately grab his attention.

So then why was it that Roy didn't even make the slightest peep at the comparison of a damp (and not to mention useless) set of matches?

A rare glimmer of worry shone in Edward's golden eyes. The thought of carrying the colonel as well as his scorching steel appendage across the desert made itself visible on his pale-stricken face. He wasn't even sure he could shoulder Mei's tiny (yet aggressive) panda right now, much less a fully grown man. He gulped, and leaned his lips so close to Roy's ear that he could have spit right into the older man's ear canal. He gently nudged Roy (well, what was considered gentle to Edward, anyway) on the shoulder once; and then twice, knocking Roy's hand into the sand.

"In case you haven't noticed we're in the middle of a godforsaken desert and- ACK!" Edward's rant was suddenly cut short when a pale hand shot out and swatted his automail leg away. An assorted variety of curses left Roy's lips as his tender fingers clanged against hot steel.

"Have a nice nap, colonel faint-face?" Edward devilishly grinned as Roy furiously shook his poor, aching fingers. Honestly, what was the man expecting knocking his digits against a solid coating of scorching steel? That he would hit a helium balloon? The tiniest trail of drool (or was it sweat?) plastered the colonel's pointy chin, as he dazedly blinked and narrowed his eyes from the blaring sun. Edward extended his grin as he caught a rare moment of the almighty Roy Mustang rubbing the tiredness from his eyes- the additional swearing and shaking of his swollen fingers (which now resembled a close shade to the inside of a ripe cantaloupe) was a nice bonus, too.

It was nice to have the upper hand, no matter how short-lived it may be.

Roy's eyes narrowed as they came into focus of a highly-amused fullmetal.

"Ah, fullmetal. Nice to see you acting as a highly mature adult. Tell me, have you found any solutions out of this predicament?" Roy calmly responded.

The mile wide grin on the teenager's face promptly slipped off and shattered to a million pieces. Damn Roy- couldn't he give him a five minutes before reminding him that they were stuck together in the middle of this hellhole?

"Tch," Edward snarled. "Nice to see you back to your asshole self." Edward ducked Roy's gaze and abruptly turned around. To think that he was actually worried about that asshole for a minute. He clenched his fists- why did he even bother in the first place?

"And what about you?" Edward sharply retorted. "I haven't seen you propose some genius solution to get us the hell out of…here." The last word's Ed had uttered caused a brief moment of uncomfortable silence to fill between the two of them. Roy visibly tensed, his sharp intake of breath piercing the five seconds of silence.

"Hate to say it, but fullmetal's right," Roy internally contemplated. "Neither of us know where the hell we are, and how in the world we got here." Just great. Roy internally groaned. Reason number two hundred twenty-seven to add under the "Reasons why Roy Mustang will die before thirty" list.

"Well?" Edward harshly responded.

"Glad you inquired, fullmetal," Roy replied, gradually regaining his calm disposition. "As much as I would just love to keep our midday trek through a million miles of sand, stone and god-knows-what, I think it's time we stop and build shelter."

"You want us to build shelter, here?!" Edward cried out in disbelief. "Whaddya crazy? Did the all that desert sand finally get to your brain?"

Roy narrowed his dark eyes and with a brief clench of his teeth, he wisely decided it was best to brush off fullmetal's snide comments.

"As a matter of fact, I do think we should stop for the night. In case you haven't noticed the sun has started to set and it won't be much longer until nightfa-"

"So you want us to stop here?" Edward violently interrupted. "And how do you think we're going to make shelter in the first place?! In case you haven't noticed, I can't transmute anymore!"

The familiar lingers of annoyance swam through the muddy waters of Roy's consciousness as he struggled to suppress shoving one of his gloves down Edward's black hole of a mouth. How was it again, that the boy had this much energy to argue? Inhale. Exhale. Deep, deep, breaths.

"We don't need to transmute anything," Roy snapped (Again, with the puns). "Unless, of course, the unlikely chance that the universe is feeling especially callous today and it starts raining; I'd say we're good."

A small feeling of content rose in Roy's chest as he reveled in the dry, sandy climate. Even though he was a powerful man, an ambitious man- and even a famed hero in the eyes of his platoon, without his flames he was just that; nothing more and nothing less than a man. He was mighty and determined; naïve and hopeful; a man dedicated to reconstructing Amestris for the people, for the future.

In the menacing looks of his superiors, he was arrogance; sheer pride in its most unadulterated form.

In the respected gazes of his team, he was a force unswerving and imposing; he had earned their confidence and promised to uphold it through peril and catastrophe.

In the eyes of his loyal lieutenant, his most trusted ally, he was equally foolish and brave; and though she was not blind to his faults, she was devoted to fulfilling his dream- she would follow him down to the depths of hell, itself.

But in his own critical gaze; sometimes horrified and sometimes smug, he was just… useless. Useless enough to be a pretty pawn for the military and watch helplessly as his loved ones brutally snatched out of his hand like candy from an infant.

And in the eyes of his youngest, most endowed subordinate? He, no, they were completely screwed. Goners. Food for the pigeons (or vultures in this case).

And yet, Roy couldn't help the twinge of pride that stirred in his chest. Even though the two were sleep-deprived, even though they felt as if a thousand cinderblocks were pressed against their trembling backs, even though they were well aware that they could be walking out of the desert as dead men, Roy was proud. Because while the sooty air of central city was a stinging slap of reality, here, in the desert, he wasn't bound to the shackles of hierarchy. Here, he was Roy Mustang, a king amongst pillars of sand: unyielding, unstoppable, and fierce as the flames he conjured himself. And it was the ugly truth.

His voice was quiet this time, yet still carrying a harsh, reprimanding tone. "Look around you fullmetal. What do you see?" he asked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ed's voice was demanding and impatient, a pure contrast to Roy's composed, authoritative baritone.

"What do you see?" Roy commanded, his voice all steel and gravel.

They boy went quiet for a moment. They might've not been subordinate and superior anymore, but the effect was all the same.

"…Sand. And not a damn soul in sight," Edward finally replied.

"Exactly. There are no villages and there are no people. There is no oasis or even a damn cave to rest. We have no materials to transmute, no water to drink, and no saviors to come rescue us."

From the very start he was stranded in the hellhole, alone and without Al, the thought of certain death lingered in the back of his mind. After all, he was a scientist by nature- he based his principles off logic and rationale. "Dehydration" he had reasoned when he thought about what factors would inevitably do him in. "Heat sickness and starvation, too."

He knew dammit! He was fully aware that even together, the two were still just as ill-fated for their untimely demise. So why was it that he was able to forego his worries so easily around the colonel? How could he let himself lose face around the colonel in a heartbeat? Did that bastard almost make him feel…safe?

And now, the severity of Roy's words hit him like a tank. In all the years Ed had seen Roy, he never could fathom that such a proud and powerful man could be so weary. The effect it had on Edward was chilling. If Roy Mustang was expecting the worse then they would be in for the worst.

He let out a shaky breath. "So what do you suggest?

"Hot," the colonel had hastily decided after he had woken up to a mouthful of sand and pebbles. "Hot and dry," he added after taking note of the arid, coarse air that filled his lungs after he charmingly spat out gravel onto the ground. And after dragging himself past miles upon miles with nothing but sand and surprise! More sand; he couldn't help but echo that thought throughout the entirety of the afternoon.

But, perhaps the Colonel had been too hasty to have assumed such a sentiment. Suddenly the colonel was lamenting his old words as he shivered and pulled his coat closer around his huddled form. Because while being hotter than his gloves after a quick, permission warmup was absolutely agony, being freezing in the middle of the desert was so much worse.

He had attempted to cocoon himself in his chocolate-colored trench coat but it had the same effect as sticking a Band-Aid on a bullet hole. The moon shone beautifully amongst the dark expanse of the starless sky, but at the moment neither Roy nor Edward couldn't care less if the sky was a giant blowup of Elicia in a rosy pink tutu. Roy pulled his knees up to his chest and lay his head on his kneecaps. Across him, Edward sat cross-legged and gingerly rubbed his arms for a bit of friction.

"…F-Find you st-stupid gloves yet?" Edward stammered as he shook like a leaf. He rubbed his arms up and down, before sticking his hands in his armpits. He let out a sigh of relief as he felt his icy fingers slowly come back to life as they twitched under the warm, dank crevice of heat.

"Be p-patient fullmetal," Roy shakily glared back as he buried his hands into his coat pockets.

"SHIT!" Alarm flooded every inch of Roy's body as he felt nothing but cotton stitching rubbing against his fingertips. "SHIT!" Desperation flooded his eyes as he dug his fingers into the soft, satiny pockets, only to retrieve a fistful of air. He yanked his hands out and patted down his pockets. There was nothing, not even the slightest bulge of cloth when he pressed down onto his coat. There was nothing in his pockets at all- save for a few scraps of lint that was burrowed in between his fingernails.

Fullmetal, who intently watched a few feet away, was clenching his fingers in pure panic. He swallowed, barely able to dredge the meager teaspoon of saliva past his parched throat. "What if he isn't able to find the gloves? We'll freeze!" Edward allowed his nails to dig into his biceps, leaving tiny half-moon marks behind. "If Roy doesn't find those gloves…" Edward's head swam with countless of possible outcomes that were sure to occur if Roy couldn't make a fire. All of them were gruesome. None of them involved the two coming out unscathed.

Meanwhile, Roy calmly kept his hands in his pockets as if he was casually enjoying the scenery under the moonlight. On the inside, he frantically tried to remember if he had stored his gloves elsewhere. "My pants pocket!" a gleam of hope struck the colonel as he pushed his subzero hands into his pants pockets. Quickly as hope came, it immediately dissipated when Roy could only distinguish the brush of his cold digits against the grey cotton cloth of his pants.

All at once, shivers crawled up his spine and settled in his throat, like a huge lump of anxiety that obstructed his voice. There was nothing. Nada. No gloves. Roy had produced nothing. Roy Mustang, the same person who could burn an army of immortal soldiers with a snap of his fingers, who could obliterate a homunculi armed with a rusty lighter, the one-and-only flame alchemist couldn't even make one measly little campfire. The irony was sickening, yet somehow appropriate. How fitting, that the man who had so foolishly proclaimed himself "king of the desert" merely an hour, supposedly unstoppable against a dry day, couldn't even produce a damn spark to stay warm. "Useless, as usual" he chided himself.

Roy allowed himself a quick glance at his youngest subordinate before ducking his head own. Horror and distress shone brightly in his eyes, and though the boy would never admit it, there was a brief undertone of disappointment as well. Roy took a deep breath. He had failed. He had failed his comrade, he had failed flame alchemy, and worst of all-he had failed himself. And now they were going to freeze to death.

"So no gloves then?" Fullmetal asked, breaking Roy out of his depressed reverie. Roy snapped out of his sad state looking up at Edward. His soft, gentle tone had taken Roy by complete surprise. The tiniest dab of concern was laced in to his words, but they were astonishingly not accusatory. It was completely different from his loud, violent outbursts that had nearly deafened Roy only a few hours ago. He darted his eyes away from Edward's face- he wished he hadn't looked. Edward was a wreck. It wasn't in the way his once-ironed dress shirt had more creases than a crumpled piece of paper, or the way his automail leg looked like it had been smashed against a concrete pillar, or even the way his pants had a thousand tiny tears. It was the way he carried himself from the sag of his broad shoulders to the droop of his head, which had (thankfully) caused his bangs to sweep over the defeated look in his golden eyes. Edward looked exhausted. The only way Roy was able to distinguish if they boy was conscious were the sporadic shivers that racked the boy's fatigued form. "And whose fault was that?" Roy accused himself.

Roy's eyes trailed to the floor. He couldn't bring himself to face Edward. He couldn't bring himself to crush the boy's spirit, but what chance did he have?

"…No," Roy softly admitted, not daring to make eye contact. His answer was short, but conclusive. So much seriousness packed into one little word.

For a moment, Roy suspected the worse. He braced himself, waiting for Edward to snap at him. Call him useless. Say that he was a complete bastard and a sad sack of shit. Roy closed his eyes and internally flinched. Anything would be better than the silence that stretched out between them. He was far away enough from Edward so that they boy wouldn't be able to lay a hand on him, but close enough to feel the boy's burning eyes searing into his soul.

"…ok…" Edward simply replied. Roy let out the breath of air that he didn't know he had been holding in. He had expected an outburst, not an "ok." Roy shut his eyes so tightly that he could feel his optical nerves twitching in strain. He wished fullmetal would blame him and curse him out- after all, he deserved it after being so…so…so damn useless.

"Let's just go to sleep, ok?" Edward softly suggested. Roy mutely nodded. He pulled his coat closer to his shivering self, enveloping himself from the cold, whipping of the wind. He laid down against the lumpy sand, and saw fullmetal do so in similar fashion. He whine uncomfortably- he could feel the tiny grains of sand scraping against his bare back as the slid in through a torn hole of his coat. There were no good-nights, just the quiet uneven breathing filling in the silence of the dry, desert night.

Roy tried to go to sleep. Tried being the operative word. Throughout the night, Roy had shifted on his side, repositioned his limbs, and tucked in his extremities a grand total of twenty-seven times. He sighed, flopping over onto his side, and tucking his legs up so that they were square with his belly button. "Stupid sand, can't sleep right," Roy softly mumbled under his breath. With every twist or shift of his limbs, Roy resolved not to make a sound louder than ten decibels, for the sake of his youngest subordinate.

The only sounds he could hear were the Edward's loud snores, which Roy swore could be heard all the way in central city. At least fullmetal was able to sleep peacefully. Roy was sure as hell not prepared to deal with an angry, sleep-deprived fullmetal first thing in the morning. He watched the boy's back contort with each breath when suddenly an almost inaudible wine escaped Edward's throat. Roy's breath hitched in worry.

"Fullmetal?" Roy called out. An unrecognizable tone was embedded in his words. It was worry.

No response. For a full minute there was nothing but the hush whirring of the wind. The desert was so quiet Roy almost felt silly, and thought himself to have imagined the whole ordeal- when another faint whimper slipped out of Edward's lips.

"Fullmetal?" Roy called out again, more confidently. Huh, so the boy wasn't asleep, after all. But if Edward had heard him, he gave no indication and continued to lay in the sand with his back still facing Roy.

"Edward!" Roy sharply barked. The antennae on Ed's head twitched, reflecting his annoyance. Roy grinded his teeth together- so the brat was ignoring him?

"Edward. Tell me what's wrong. Now." The painstaking journey through all that sand had completely rubbed off Roy's patience. He grinded his teeth so hard that he could practically feel his enamel rusting away. Cursing senseless obnoxious teenagers and their stubborn ways, Roy finally pried himself up from the sand and dragged his feet towards the sand so he could scold his youngest charge for his stupidity.

"I asked you a question fullmetal!" Roy reprimanded as he stood over Edward's curled up figure.

Roy opened his mouth, readying himself to scold Ed on the importance of responding back, when the words dies in his throat. There on the sand, resembling a curled up fist, was fullmetal. His flesh knee was tucked into his chest, which securely wrapped around by his arms, which then covered the sides of face.

Noticing the silence from his superior, Edward gently lifted his head out of his arms. Pain was clearly contorted on his face- his teeth were clenched, sweat beaded down his forehead, his eyes were scrunched up so tightly not even the tiniest spec of moonlight made its way into Edward's pupils. A moment later, Ed popped open his eyes, which were dazed in obvious pain, before refocusing them to glare at Roy.

"Whaddy'ya want bastard?" Edward spat. Roy stiffened and an angry red tick mark popped out on his head. Secretly, Roy was relieved that the boy could at least talk.

"What I want, fullmetal, is for you to answer me and tell me just what the hell is bothering you," Roy replied, equally as annoyed. Ed simply glared back before muttering a small "tch" and laying his head back down at the sand.

"Well? I am expecting a response, fullmetal." Roy's tone was low and deliberate. He dropped his dangerous gaze to fullmetal, making it clear that he wouldn't leave until he fulfilled his incentive. Roy released a low, guttural growl of irritation. Dammit, why did he have to be paired with the world's most thick-headed and stubborn teenager?

Ed avoided the stinging stare of his superior and let his eyes wander down, towards the source of his agony. Roy followed his gaze down before stopping on the automail leg that seemed to be stretched out away from the rest of his body.

"Oh," Roy thought as he glanced down at the shiny, silver appendage. He had been so caught up in his own pool of misery and self-imposed failure that he hadn't noticed how frigid Ed's leg must have been, or how much discomfort it must have caused him. A familiar feeling of guilt churned in Roy's stomach before he squashed it down. "It's fullmetal's fault for not saying anything in the first place," he convinced himself.

Still, that didn't stop him from saying, "Dammit Ed! Why didn't you say anything?!" He was disappointed in Edward (and maybe even a small portion of his mind was disappointed in himself for not noticing).

"There's nothing to say," Edward replied, his words holding only half of the bite it normally conveyed. "It's just cold. My automail gets cold too, cause it's metal," he snapped.

Roy sighed. It was just like in fullmetal's hard-headed nature to keep his problems bottled up inside. A limp hand pushed back his sweaty black bangs before he threw his head back in exasperation. "When will that brat learn to rely on others?" Roy contemplated for a moment, before looking down at Edward's pain-stricken face.

He was one-hundred percent positive that the boy was freezing. Roy swallowed. He had a solution alright, but it was…completely, embarrassing if he had to say so himself. He debated the pros and cons in his mind, hating the fact that his rationale was winning out. There was no point delaying it, but the mere thought of it made Roy's stomach want to lurch. Roy pityingly racked his brain in concentration finding no other solutions nearly as logical as this one. He gathered up his nerves and sighed in the pure unfairness of the situation.

With a final, discontent exhale, Roy finally grew a pair, laid down, and draped his arm over fullmetal. It was fullmetal's turn for his breath to hitch in his throat. The effect was immediate: fullmetal jumped- no flew at least teen feet back for staring at Roy like a deer in headlights.

"WH-WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOU BLOODY PERVERT!" Edward screeched like a banshee. His voice blared so noisily that Roy thought his ears would be ringing into the next century. Ed's flaming face would've put a ripe tomato to shame. He instantly formed a protective fighting stance and glared at Roy with wrath more tenacious than the homunculus, himself.

"Look, fullmetal, it's not like that…" Roy attempted to explain before holding up his hands in defeat. He tested the waters, and cautiously took a few, careful steps forward.

Unlucky for him, Ed immediately picked up Roy's actions and aimed a fist at Roy.

"NOT ONE STEP CLOSER YOU PERVERT! I'LL BREAK OFF YOUR HANDS AND SHOVE 'EM DOWN YOUR THROAT!" Ed ominously threatened.

"Look fullmetal, I just wanted to-" Roy began before being abruptly interrupted again.

"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU WANT YOU STUPID LETCH! YOU BETTER STAY FIVE HUNDRED FEET BACK UNLESS YOU WANT TO ME TO KNOCK YOUR ASS INTO NEXT WEEK!" True as his word, Edward pulled a face of demon-like fury and aimed at Roy.

"Hey, I thought you were supposed to be in pain!" Roy remarked as he watched the boy flip around him in a feat of pure agility. His forehead creased with utter infuriation. He didn't have time for this right now!

"WELL TOO BAD FPR YOU PAL, CAUSE ME AND MY SHINY METAL LEG ARE ABOUT TO KICK THE CRAP OF YOUR STUPID PERVERT HEAD!"

"DAMMIT FULLMETAL THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS DOING!" Roy screamed back out of sheer aggravation. This time, the boy was silent for a moment. He opened his mouth, only to have Roy heatedly snap back at him.

"Like I was saying, oh smart one, I was trying to keep your ass from freezing into the human Popsicle by staying warm!" he furiously explained.

"…Warm?" Edward squeaked out as his face was still tinted a nice tomato-red.

"Yes fullmetal, warm. As in. Sharing. Body. Heat." Roy shoved as much emphasis into each word as possible. He glared at Edward with a pointed look. The mere thought of it made him want to vomit right on the sand. Honestly, where would the boy get such a ludicrous idea?

"…Oh" Ed squawked. Back to silence. Roy could acutely hear the tiny ticking of his pocket watch, indicating that roughly one minute and twenty-three, no, twenty-four seconds had passed since either of them had dare utter a sound.

"Um," Ed offered unhelpfully. He ducked his blushing face and very much dignifiedly dropped onto the grainy ground. The sound muffled his screaming.

Roy couldn't blame the boy- after all he wasn't faring any better. His face was slightly pink in the complete mortification of the situation. He stood straight as an arrow, before taking five deep breaths. "Innnnn. Ouuuut. Innnnn. Ouuuut," he mentally versed just like Hawkeye had taught him to. Collecting whatever few scraps of dignity he had left, he resolved to collapse on the sand next to Edward. He couldn't care less that he had a mouthful of sand at the moment, in fact he would've preferred in the sand could've swallowed him whole instead.

Roy lifted his face from the sand and spat out the gravel from his mouth for the second time that day. He brushed the pebbles from his face before rolling over next to fullmetal. Hesitantly, he reached out for Ed's arm, before ever-so-slightly draping it on the boy. Ed stiffened, but he didn't say anything as Roy drew him closer into his chest. Ed's face was twisted halfway between disgust and helplessness and Roy was too tongue-tied to for small talk.

The whole thing was immensely awkward. Roy was stiffer than a nutcracker, and the mechanical position of practically hover his arm over fullmetal was starting to tire out his arm. Not to mention that Ed's metal leg was digging in to the back of Roy's kneecap. Even through the layer of black leather pants, Roy still felt as if an icicle was pressed into his legs.

It was Roy who finally broke the silence. "Can you please move your leg," he gritted. "For the love of- it feels like I have goddamn frostbite!"

Ed heatedly inhaled through his nostrils. "I'll move my stupid leg, when you stop impaling your friggin' arm ino my side!" He shot back.

"Fine!" the two relinquished at the same time before Edward replaced his mechanical leg in favor of his flesh one. Roy turned his arm around to his elbow hasn't digging into the side of Edward's rib cage. Together, they lay their heads back down onto the sand before trying to get to sleep.

"THIS POSITION IS EVEN WORSE!" they simultaneously monologue as they tried to get comfortable. This time, Roy's arm was slung around Edward's collarbone- squeezing the breath out of him harder than Elicia death-gripped her stuffed animals. As for Roy, Fullmetal's head was pressed so far back onto his face that he was choking on Edward's loose golden strands and his nose was pressed against Ed's sweaty neck.

"No you idiot!"

"You're going to suffocate me!"

"Are you trying to strangle me?!"

"You have the coordination of a two year old!"

…And for the better part of an hour, Roy and Edward hurled insults at each other and proceeded to try a hundred more or so abstract poses before they could finally settle on a (more or less) acceptable sleeping position. While it wasn't baking, Roy decided that he was warm enough to do without a jacket and stripped himself of his trench coat in favor of a make shift pillow. He folded the coat into fourths so both fullmetal and himself could nestle comfortable without sniffing each other's hair. He yawned and laid his head down before noticing something slightly lumpy before pulling the jacket under fullmetal's head.

"Hey!" Ed cried out, extremely irritated that someone had the nerve to interrupt his much-needed beauty sleep.

Roy laid the coat out on the ground, searching for any irregularities in the chocolate-colored coat. He felt around, taking his time to inspect ever inch of cloth before his fingers grazed an irregular bump near the seams of his neck. He pulled the coat near his face, squinting his onyx eyes as he tried to inspect the seams in pitch black darkness. At first glance there were no irregularities, and then there it was. Roy caught sight of the slightest bit of stitching that was embedded within the neck of the coat. The job was so precisely cut, that Roy would have never suspected anything odd, had it not bone for the suspicious lump near his neck. Carefully, he took the fingernails of his pointer finger and thumb and carefully grasped on to the little string and pulled. Sure enough the tread came loose along with two flaps of cloth that opened into a makeshift pouch. Carefully, he stuck his hand inside and couldn't believe his eyes.

Two brand-new whiter than snow ignition gloves, branded with his signature red flame alchemy transmutation circle winked back up at him. Behind him fullmetal gaped in disbelief. Slowly, He slipped one glove onto his right hand and relished the familiar roughness of the cloth as it fitted to his calloused hands. He slipped them both on, before looking around for anything to burn. Fullmetal happily volunteered a necktie, to which Roy placed on the ground and stood back. He experimentally snapped- all at once heat swirled in his palms before burning his fingers and releasing outwards in a flurry of red, orange, and yellow sparks. He snapped again, allowing a small, flickering, flame to catch on to the tie, before rapidly expanding into a decent campfire.

For the first time that day (or night), Roy allowed a small smile to graze his face. He turned back to smirk at an astonished fullmetal, who couldn't believe luck. The two let out a breath as they let the warmth of the flames relax warm their shivering selves. Roy laid down next to fullmetal and exchanged no words as they pressed them into each other. A hopeful grin was plastered onto Ed's face as he yawned and buried his face into the crook of his arm.

"G'night Colonel bastard," Ed recited before smacking his lips and drifting off into dreamland.

"Night, fullmetal," Roy replied as he stifled a yawn with his hand and went back to sleep.

The next day, Edward was the first to awaken, blinking before the dusty ground came into view. He moved Roy's hand and sat up, before throwing his head back and yawning. Tiny tears pricked the edge of his eyes, and Ed rubbed them out of his eyes. He stretched his arms up above his head and let them drop onto his lap. Well this was a first.

Ed cracked his knuckles and stretched, lazily. "Normally, Al's always waiting for me to wake up," Ed mused as he reclined on his elbows. During his search for the philosopher's stone, Ed would sleep at a minimum of ten hours a day in order to provide enough energy for both his and his brother's body. The resulting effect would have disastrous results when he had to stay up late or get up early (accompanied by one particular incident in which a poor newbie recruit had been fetched to wake up fullmetal. The resounding trauma the poor man received had been so bad that he promptly transferred to southern headquarters the next morning).

He allowed himself a few more seconds of laziness before he stretched and got up. The slump of the figure next to him indicated that Roy was still asleep. Grinning deviously Ed knelt by the man and pressed his mouth into Roy's ear.

"Ohhhh, colonellllll~" he sang softly as Roy stirred but didn't say anything.

"RISE AND SHINE COLONEL ASSWIPE!" Ed bellowed before promptly scampering away. The colonel didn't budge.

"Colonel?" Ed called out as Roy remained motionless on the sand. Ever so slowly, Ed approached the colonel and shook him by the shoulders. No response.

Fear overcame Ed as he shook the colonel even harder, willing him to wake up. "Colonel?" he cried out in worry.

"Colonel!" he screamed in panic as the colonel finally flopped onto his back. Sweat streamed down Roy's face and his chest heaved painfully up and down. His face burned bright red and when Ed pressed his palm against his forward, he nit back a yelp at how scorched it was.

"Colonel!" Ed cried out shaking Roy like a ragdoll. "SHIT!"

…And like a ragdoll, Roy remained motionless and barely breathing on the sandy, desert ground.