A/N: I regret nothing, even though I really should be writing the main story.

Set, uh, I guess a few years before the first actual chapter of The Path of Flame. Harry is around eight years old; Ed is still pretty awkward about being in love with Roy. Al is…visiting the Hughes's while Harry and Roy are sick, because Ed would have a fit if his little brother died of the flu.

If Roy doesn't seem that sick, it's probably because the worst thing I've ever had is a sinus infection. Inexplicably powerful immune systems for the win!

Warnings: Nothing, just fluff. Okay, Ed cursing because…Ed.

Disclaimer: Oh these poor, poor characters. They're so lucky I don't own them.

Summary: Edward Elric was a godsend, and Roy would be willing to fight anyone who said otherwise. Just as soon as he had the energy to get out of bed again.


Long Night

Edward Elric was a godsend, and Roy would be willing to fight anyone who said otherwise. Just as soon as he had the energy to get out of bed again.

"You're such a fucking child," Ed said unceremoniously as he re-entered the room. "I honestly don't know who's more dramatic: you or your son."

Roy opened his eyes just far enough to glare at the brat, but they fluttered shut again almost instantly as Ed turned over the cold compress on Roy's head. He honestly couldn't stop himself from moaning gratefully, probably proving Ed's point, but he didn't care as long as he had the cloth cooling him down. Gentle fingers pushed some of Roy's sweat-soaked hair behind his equally sweaty ear, so Roy opened his eyes again and gave Ed a weak smile. Ed was smiling back at him, eyes filled with a warmth he only used to show to Alphonse, and Roy nearly forgot how sick he was for a moment as he marveled at the path his life had taken. A year ago he would've sworn Ed hated him, had despaired of ever seeing a smile or trust directed at him, but despite all odds he'd ended up with his former subordinate happily living with him.

"I love you," Roy said helplessly, and his smile strengthened a little when Ed blushed and looked away, still uncomfortable with the intimacy.

"Yeah, you too," he muttered in the tone every embarrassed teenager has used since time immemorial. Roy really, really wanted to kiss him, but strongly suspected he'd get an automail knee for his trouble.

"How's Harry?" he asked instead, even though he knew Ed would have informed him if his son had taken a turn for the worse.

"Sleeping," Ed returned with a shrug. "Not very well, but that cough medicine knocked him out. Wish the same could be said of you. Just hope his fever doesn't get any worse—I'm not looking forward to taking him to the hospital without you."

"I stay awake just be contrary," Roy said seriously. Ed snorted, looking as if he fully believed Roy did just that. "And I think his fever will break tonight. You get a knack for predicting these things after enough years."

"Right," Ed agreed, unimpressed and disbelieving. "Well, you need anything else before I ring the Hughes's and check up on Al?"

Roy barely managed a shadow of his usual grin, but it was entirely worth the effort when Ed blushed again and muttered "pervert" as he left the room.

Roy sighed and slouched back in his pillows to settle in for a long night.

xxxxx

He was woken from a sound sleep a few hours later by the sound of a terrified scream. He heard a muffled thunk and cursing from the other side of the bed, but ignored Ed entirely as he rushed for Harry's room. Ed was yelling for him to "get the fuck back in bed, Mustang!" but he couldn't; if something was happening to Harry, he was going to make whoever was in his son's room regret it. Even if he had to strangle that person with his bare hands.

He skidded to a stop in the doorway to Harry's room, hanging on to the doorjamb as he quickly looked around the room. He almost collapsed in relief when he saw that nothing was amiss.

"Fuck, Mustang," Ed panted behind him. "You move fast for a sick man."

He spared Ed a brief glare, but any retort he could've made was cut off when he heard the unmistakable sound of a sob from Harry's bed.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Roy asked, voice a harsh whisper as he forced his shaking legs to carry him across the room. The second he collapsed on the bed, Harry launched himself into Roy's arms, burying his face in his chest and shaking. Roy wrapped his arms firmly around his son, kissing the top of his head.

"Did you have a bad dream?" he asked quietly. Harry nodded jerkily, but still didn't say anything. "Do you want to talk about it?" This time Harry shook his head, fervently, and Roy wouldn't be surprised if he was still too terrified to talk. "Do you want me to stay here with you until you fall asleep again?" Harry nodded again, tightening his grip on Roy as if he could burrow himself closer. Roy groaned a little as he dragged reluctant feet onto Harry's bed, but managed a smile for his son when the boy looked up at him in concern.

"I ought to take a picture of this," Ed said drily. "And show it 'round the office next time Havoc and Breda bitch about what a hardass you are." But then he was tucking the covers around the two of them, running a gentle hand over Harry's hair and pressing dry lips to Roy's forehead, and Roy couldn't bring himself to be annoyed.

"I'll go get your compress and some water," Ed continued softly. Roy made a noncommittal hum of acknowledgement, eyes closed already, and was asleep again by the time Ed left the room.


A/N: I kind of hope this cheers somebody else up; it's not much, but it made my cold feel a little less dreadful.