DON'T GO OUTSIDE

DON'T TOUCH THE CONCRETE

DON'T EVEN BREATHE

It's 44 degrees down here today and the sun is so bright it's like Groudon is taking over (and my pale skin shines like a beacon…). I burned my feet walking across my backyard. TT^TT

So in stark contrast to that, I give you a snowy chapter in the hopes it would cool down my brain. To all of you in cold countries right about now… I envy you. (Even if you're snowed in or something.)

"Sir."

"Hu…h?"

"Sir. It's me. Lieutenant Hawkeye. You might need to consider waking up at some point today."

Roy's eyelids flickered as he fought to keep them open, his body stiff and his neck feeling like he'd broken it at some point through the night. As his mind slowly began to recalibrate, he noted that he was sitting on the floor of the bedroom and had fallen asleep against the bunk.

"'Morning?" he offered the woman before him groggily, too put out to wonder what she was doing in the dorm.

The woman pointed at her face. Her upper cheek, to be exact. "You might need to wipe your eyes, sir," she said softly.

"Huh?" Roy gave another confused grunt and swiped at his face, mildly surprised when his hand came away with a spot of water. Again?

He embarrassedly rubbed at his face with his wrist and tried to regain some dignity by rising to his feet. A book slipped off his stomach as he did, making him jump as it dropped by his foot.

He must have fallen asleep whilst watching over Edward, reading to pass the time. A subtle wave of relief washed his features as he realised it could have been worse in that the Lieutenant could have walked in yesterday and found the pair of them sleeping together on the couch. That would really be shameful.

Roy cleared his throat and shifted his gaze awkwardly around the room. He noted Edward had already gotten out of bed and vanished to the kitchen – probably in search of food. He also noted the fact that he was only wearing a singlet and some flannel pyjama trousers Hughes had given him for his birthday – which he had only worn twice on account of the fact they were purple and covered with elephants.

If Hawkeye had noticed this bizarre choice in clothing, she made no mention of it.

"Well," Roy said. "This is something of an unexpected visit."

Hawkeye nodded her agreement. "Apologies for barging in, but I was only just alerted of Edward's condition a short while ago and thought I should drop by."

"You didn't need to," Roy pointed out. He shifted his weight and ran a hand through his hair.

Hawkeye's sharp gaze took in the sweep of Roy's arm coupled with his slight head turn, the familiar motion a sign she'd learned usually meant either 'I am quite flustered by your presence in this somewhat embarrassing situation' or 'this paperwork is driving me up the wall'.

Which brought her to her reason for visiting.

"Colonel. Did you read through those books I brought you?"

The man grunted and picked up the one he had dropped. "A few, yeah."

"Then you're aware of your error in judgement in regards to Edward's illness?"

Roy frowned for a moment, puzzled. Then it clicked. "You're referring to the studies linking stress to decrease in strength of the body's immune system?"

She nodded. "If anyone else is likely to catch this sickness, it's you. I came to advise you to leave caring for the boy to someone else."

Roy straightened up, rubbed his neck. Hawkeye's gaze travelled along his well-muscled arm to the marred skin of his shoulder, then to the faint blade scar across the base of his neck. His other arm boasted the spot of an old bullet wound.

"I appreciate the thought, Hawkeye," the man said as she pondered the marks on his body. "But if it's alright with you, I'm going to stay with him."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.

"Never mind. I'm staying here whether you deem it suitable or not. I'm sorry, but…" He gave a sheepish smile. "I told the kid I'd stay."

Hawkeye closed her eyes. "Very well, sir."

"Besides, he's almost better already… It's bizarre."

Your skin would have been unmarked beforehand, the woman thought as she cast one last glance over Roy's shoulders. I wonder how much more of yourself you'll sacrifice before we make it.

The man looked down. "The pyjamas are Hughes' fault, by the way. On hindsight, just about everything is."

"I see."

"You could probably blame him for the torrential rain down south if you looked into it. And when the world ends, you can blame him for that as well."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. But right now, I'm just blaming him for these pyjamas."

"Hah… Hah… Hatchoo!"

Probably should have listened to Hawkeye back then, thought Roy to himself, rubbing a finger under his nose to ward off a second sneeze.

"Are you catching cold already?" asked Edward curiously, tearing his gaze away from the train window. It took up one whole side of their small compartment, the other being a door. Edward never really travelled in the First Class carriage, but now he could say he knew what it felt like. The other teams each had their own fancy little compartment, but the Fuhrer had an entire train of his own.

"Well, if I am I'll know who to blame," replied Roy.

Edward laughed sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

The boy looked back out the window. He sighed out of his nose. "We've left 'em behind again."

Roy nodded, spreading a newspaper out on the table between himself and Edward. He wanted a puzzle. This newspaper better have a crossword at least. "We have. Disconcerting, isn't it?"

"You're tellin' me," muttered Edward. He'd been about to follow with, Think you know how weird it is to be separated? He's my brother, but then he remembered who Roy's chosen partner was.

And just how close the two were.

The image of Hawkeye and Mustang fighting back-to-back in a spinning formation spitting flames and bullets left right and centre resurfaced from some part of his memory. "You two are really tight, aren't you?" he said absent-mindedly, sniffling ever so slightly.

Roy flicked through the newspaper in mild irritation, disgruntled by the lack of puzzles. He stopped on one page, the headline catching his eye. "It's only to be expected, is it not? We've worked together for quite some time, after all."

Edward watched Roy's eyes flicking analytically across some odd article, his face creasing in thought as the picture caught his attention.

A second later, he'd lost interest again and moved on to an advertisement for a litter of puppies. Edward could have sworn the man's face lit up just a little.

"True," the teen replied with a flick of his head. He planted a metal finger above the photograph of the puppies. "The black one's cute."

Roy smiled. "Yeah. I'd get myself a dog if I ever had time to look after it. Fantastic creatures, dogs."

"Is Hawkeye a dog person?" asked Edward.

Roy frowned and looked up at him. "Sure as hell hope so," he said earnestly. "I'm willing to adapt to most situations, but if she ever saw it fit to let a cat of all creatures roam around the office…"

Edward snickered as Roy shuddered. "Don't let Al hear you say that."

The man sat back, flicking over the paper. "I don't see her being a cat person. She'd make a good trainer, I think."

"Known from experience?" Edward asked with a toothy smirk.

Roy blinked. An image of Hawkeye's strict face and the sound of a cocked gun resonated deep in his soul and he shrunk down instinctively. "I guess you could say that," he mumbled.

Edward sat back and smiled in a sort of painful nostalgia. "I know that feeling. My teacher was a real tyrant."

"He couldn't be worse than—"

The tortured glimmer in Edward's eye told him that yes, this 'teacher' was one someone not to mess with. "She," he whispered in a hunted tone. "She was merciless."

"Damn," replied Roy. "She… That's even worse."

Edward choked back a strangled whimper, his somewhat twisted grin betrayed by the blood draining from his face. "Yup."

"Th-think about something else, then," offered Roy. "Have you been keeping up your auto-mail maintenance?"

Edward raised his metal arm, pulling back his sleeve and giving it an appraising once-over. "Best hope so or my mechanic'll have my head mounted over her workbench."

"Miss Winry Rockbell, wasn't it?" asked Roy, continuing on his Crossword Crusade. "I met her once, didn't I?"

"Probably. Rockbell's the name, prosthetic limbs're the game," cited Edward, raising his left leg on his right knee to take a look. He tugged up the material of his trousers, pulling it roughly above his knee. "There's three generations running that store. Well, more like two considering that Winry's parents were…" He trailed off suddenly, remembering who he was talking to.

"Hm?" Roy looked up from his newspaper. "Something happen to them?"

"Nothing." Edward went back to his trousers. "They're gone. Winry's about as much of an auto-mail fanatic to make up for both of them, though."

Roy rolled the name 'Rockbell' in his head for a moment and was provided with an answer he wasn't too keen on when he remembered. "Urey and Sarah Rockbell. Doctors killed in the line of duty. Had a little girl in that backwater farmshed, Resembool. Very tragic, don't you think, Major?"

Roy pushed the memory from his head and focused on Edward's words.

"Winry's nice and all, great at what she does, but she's a little…intense." Edward flexed his knee. "I mean, her skills are nearly unparalleled, but does she really need to club me with a wrench every time I screw up? It's unnecessary force. Mistreatment of a customer and a patient."

"She also happens the girl with the teddy you and Alphonse fought over, right?"

Edward spluttered and his metal limbs janked! together loudly. "D-don't call it that!"

"Huh?" Roy smirked. The whole stuffed bear incident was still just as amusing as the first time he'd caught Edward sleeping with the fluffy toy. "What do you mean?"

"Call it… Call it the 'woolly hat'."

"Did you just give a fluffy toy a codename?"

Edward squirmed and kicked his metal foot into the bottom of the table. "Shut it! It ain't my fault I don't want the whole damn world to know I've been saddled with that dumb thing!"

"So you kept it?"

"Al made me take it again!" grumbled Edward. "I swear, next time we go to Resembool I'm dumping the damn thing on Winry like a pair of earrings and she can't say nothin' about it! Crazy mecha-monkey!"

Roy's smirk spread across his face like spilled juice as Edward continued ranting half to himself, running a gloved hand under the rim of the plating on his shin.

"And all that shouting she does!" Edward tugged off his boot roughly. "I swear, she must be part banshee or something! And I have no idea where that arm strength came from. I take a beating like, every other Thursday and the occasional collapsing building, but her spanner to the head has me on my knees. It's crazy! I know I could dodge them if I tried, but for some reason I just don't! And I don't even know why…"

Roy's eyes lit up as he spotted a Sudoku puzzle tucked into the corner of one page. "Is that so?" he asked, watching Edward shove his shoe back on.

"Yeah," the boy grunted. "She oughtta cut it out and learn to be ladylike at some point. 'Cause when she's not shouting or hitting me or hiding behind a welding mask and a protective layer of machine grease, she's actually pretty cute."

The train cabin fell silent.

Edward made a quiet noise like a pineapple being sliced in two and went red. "I said nothing," he blurted. "Not a word for or against that dumb grease monkey and her pretty face."

Roy laughed hard as Edward slapped his hands over his eyes and buried his head in his knees. "Crap! I did it again!"

"You fancy her, don't you?" Roy said teasingly, an honest smile stretching his lips.

"I do-o-on't," whined Edward, the fact that he had his face to his knees making it a rather ineffective claim.

"You do," said Roy, crossing one leg over the other. "I'm Roy Mustang. I know these things. You want her, don't you?"

"Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron, carbon, nitrogen…" Edward listed, muffled into his legs.

Roy laughed again as the kid started reciting everything he knew about atomic bonding.

"…Bonds like this occur when atoms of the elements, often two differing substances, react to balance out the valence electron shell…"

Roy settled back down and picked up a pencil. He set to work on his crossword. "If it's any consolation, the amount of times I did that to Lieutenant Hawkeye when we were younger is something quite laughable."

"…Atoms become more stable when they have the right amount of electrons in the right shells. Elements can react when one gives up or gains an electron to balance itself…"

Roy cringed. "Oh, wow. I just remembered. Something I wish I hadn't."

"…Some elements can bond by sharing electrons, joining their outer shells to help keep each other stable…"

"I accidentally complimented her thighs once. I still die a little bit inside. Wonder if she remembers."

Edward's rambling trailed off. "Winry says she wants me to stay well," he mumbled, sitting back to look at the ceiling. "She worries about me all the time, but the second she sees I'm hurt, she beats the daylights outta me."

"And Hawkeye always wants to look after me," continued Roy, working away at his puzzle. "But she always hesitates. She knows what's best for me, but…she never seems to be able to forcefully tell me to do it."

"It's like…" Edward fumbled for words.

Roy sighed. "…if Hawkeye wants me to do something, then…"

"…instead of always worrying and shouting…"

"…instead of the stubborn prompting…"

"…she should just grab me by the hand and make me do it," they both finished.

Roy looked at Edward and the boy blinked back.

"Um?" the boy offered.

"Women, huh?" replied Roy with an awkward shrug. "They are a lot different from us."

"Is it always gonna be this hard to understand her?" complained Edward, as if the thought pained him.

Roy sighed. "Who knows? The female is a complex and exquisite being. She thinks in a way we don't comprehend."

"Was that a yes?"

"Yes."

Edward groaned and let his forehead hit the table.

"By the way, the food in Northern Command is to die for."

"Really?"

"Yup. Men have died just to get out of eating it. It's worse than Falman on the dance floor."

In silence, Edward slid off his seat to hide under the table and probably cry to himself.

"Whatever you do…" panted Edward. "Don't sneeze!"

"Please!" came the retort from Roy. "Do you really think I'd actually do something that cliché?"

"Wouldn't put it past you!" Edward grinned, his arms and legs pumping. "You do seem to like the classics!"

Snow crunched underfoot as they sprinted across an icy plane. The cold air bit at Edward's face, turning his nose red faster than he could say 'Alphonse'.

It was around midday when the teams had arrived in North City, hometown of the Meinhardts (though Roy knew that if he asked them, they'd probably both state their real home was the frozen concrete of Fort Briggs).

They'd barely made themselves comfortable in their new dorms when the call had gone around for the first event. They'd rugged themselves up with everything they had and Meinhardt Junior had approached Amory and Edward to say, "Make sure to cover your prosthetics well. My guess is they aren't custom-built for the North." He'd tossed them some insulating bandages and disappeared.

Edward hadn't the slightest idea what he was on about, but he wrapped his joints up completely nonetheless. He assumed the man had simply known about his vulnerability to the cold and accepted the small kindness gratefully.

And then they'd been dropped in the middle of nowhere, handed supply packs and been told the rules and event boundaries.

So basically… Edward had thought to himself as the Fuhrer, wearing a thick black coat with a bizarre furry hat, shot the starting pistol.

We're playing one gigantic game of Hide-and-Seek.

Roy had immediately tapped Edward's wrist and bolted for a shrubby forest in the distance.

"Why don't we go that way?" Edward asked as the groups scattered, taking off after him and tossing a thumb backwards. "The forest is thicker, and it's closer!"

"Because that's exactly what everyone else will be thinking," replied Roy, pulling his thick grey scarf up over his mouth and nose. His voice was muffled as he continued, "When they let the judge out to find us, they're going to go where they think they'll find the most people."

Edward grunted in realisation as Roy pointed forward. "They won't come this way until they've turned that forest upside-down," he said. "And most of the competition will have been found."

Edward glanced backwards as he ran, trying to see if anyone else had the same idea as the colonel. They were being followed by the Meinhardts, but the northerners were veering off to the left, slightly more in the direction of a large mountain.

The Avonese team had taken that route, straight for the towering grey stone face. Tyrell and Dominico had gone the opposite direction from them, towards what looked to be a frozen river surrounded by icy reeds. There was a rocky outcropping on the other side.

Everyone else – Kambei, West, South and Central – had gone in the opposite direction from the Eastern team, towards the thicker forest.

The two State Alchemists were breathing hard by the time they reached their destination. The cold air was harsh and stinging, jabbing at their chests as Roy handed Edward a metal canister from within their supply pack. Stephen and Siger had disappeared some way back.

Edward took a grateful swig of the drink as they began walking again and almost spat it out in surprise.

"Tea?" he exclaimed, momentarily baffled.

Roy glanced at him and sniffed the liquid. "It is indeed," he announced, happily drinking some. He handed it back to Edward, licking his lips. Wistfully, he added, "If only it were whiskey…"

Edward gave him a scathing look. "You aren't allowed alcohol anyway."

"Says who?"

"Says Hawkeye," replied Edward, folding his arms and looking down. "And me."

"I'm sure she'd give me a bit of wiggle room there," said Roy matter-of-factly, keeping an eye out for a hiding spot. "Even if only a glass."

Edward seemed unconvinced and Roy wasn't blaming him. Last time he'd had even a little to drink when staying in Edward's company… He shook his head.

That was never going to happen again.

"Where should we hide then, Mr Hide-and-Seek-King?" asked Edward, looking around. He blinked back tears as a cold breeze blew into his already itchy eyes.

"Hadn't got that far," admitted Roy. "In the trees perhaps? Most of these look weight bearing."

Edward followed the man's gaze through the treetops. Some of the trees were green and sprouted thick branches but others were spindly and bare, like twigs thrust into the earth as if by a giant's hand. He saw a single green leaf on one baldy tree fluttering bravely in the frigid air and smiled.

"What do you think?"

Edward looked back down. "To be honest, I'm surprised there are any green trees growing out here at all."

"Get a little further north and it's all pine," said Roy. "But let's hope you never need to. Briggs is… It's a tough place."

"Briggs? You've been there?" Edward repeated, cocking his head as they walked.

"It's both the name of the northern mountains and the fortified military base up there," elaborated Roy. "But that's not important now. What do you make of that?"

The man pointed with a gloved finger towards a tangle of trees before them. Three twisting trees had merged into each other just ahead, creating a thick, gnarled trunk. The branches above it spread out like a cupped hand, creating a scoop in the middle with shielding wood and leaves all around.

"That's convenient," said Edward, examining it. "Looks great. I guess we just have to wait for them to show up?"

"Yeah. Or until the hour they get to find us is up. If it hits two-thirty, we can leave."

"Awesome." Edward laid a hand on the tree. "Up we go, then?"

Roy nodded and jumped high, wrapping a hand around the lowest branch of the tree and hoisting himself up. The aching in his muscles had all but vanished and his energy was way back up.

After he'd steadied himself, he shuffled around to face Edward. The teen was glowering up at him and Roy's face lit up with amusement.

"You—"

"Don't say anything," Edward interjected, raising a hand angrily. "Just pull me up or the judges'll have to look for separate parts of your body scattered across this field!"

Roy leant over, smirking like every short joke in his arsenal was bursting to get out just behind his lips. He held out his hand for the Fullmetal Alchemist to grab.

Edward clenched both hands around Roy's extended wrist and walked himself up the trunk as the man helped pull him up.

Edward grabbed a branch to pull himself inside the tree and almost recoiled as a stab of pain zapped up his left arm.

"Ouch!"

"Huh? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing…"

As the boy slid into the hollow scoop next to his commander, the man gave a huff of exertion and mumbled, "I guess in reality this tree didn't quite measure up to how convenient it appeared."

He gave an offended 'ow!' through his snickering as an auto-mail foot connected with his shin.

Edward blinked in surprise and stared at his hand as Roy cursed and rubbed his leg. The white material of his glove was torn right through, blood seeping through the white material. He frowned and shook off the minor injury.

The young alchemist turned on his knees to examine the surrounding branches as Roy nursed his rapidly bruising leg. He raised a hand to his chin in thought and said, "I could probably make it so that these branches obscure us a little better," he replied. "If I use the same principles as that Fletcher kid…"

The colonel tuned into Edward's alchemical yammering after he was satisfied his tibia wasn't fractured. "What are you planning now?" he asked.

"I'm thinking of broadening and raising the branches around us to make us harder to spot," explained Edward. "I mean, the northerners have a massive advantage, we might as well use every skill we have to give us an edge."

"Good plan, but transmuting a tree isn't quite the same as transmuting a wooden table, Fullmetal. Trees are alive."

Edward nodded in agreement. "I know. But I met someone a while back who could transmute all kinds of plants. It caught my interest so I looked into it a little, nothing too major, but I should be able to…"

Without any further comment, Edward clapped his hands and slapped the tree, a green tinted flash of reaction flashing so bright it hurt Roy's eyes to look.

"Remember to keep the structure of the tree in mind!" the man called as the branches bulged and twisted around them. "Don't make the top of the tree too heavy for the trunk to support!"

"Don't worry!" Edward grinned, the reaction illuminating his face. "I've worked it all out!"

"Hmph." Roy smiled. I really should have known.

And a moment later, the shifting tree fell still. Thick branches twisted around the pair and little sprigs laced the gaps between, effectively obscuring them from ground level. Roy tentatively leant back against the transmuted branches and was pleased to find they held his weight well.

Edward grinned again, folding his legs and putting his hands behind his head. "Care for some tea, Colonel?"

The man reached for the pack he'd thrown in front of himself with a satisfied smile of his own. "Don't mind if I do."

He looked behind Edward's head and something caught his eye.

"Ed, why is there blood on that branch?"

The teen cast a glance back. "Huh? Oh, that was me. Must have cut my hand on the way up."

"Let's see?"

Edward looked back at Roy, who was holding out his hand expectantly. His eyes bore that stubborn 'let me treat this or I'll drag you to the clinic kicking and screaming' mark people often got when Edward was limping or cringing or seeping mysterious red liquid all over the office.

The teen rolled his eyes and presented his palm, knowing arguing was a futile effort as Roy would likely outwit him somehow.

The colonel tugged off Edward's glove gently, trying to better assess the damage. "This is pretty deep," he remarked, eyes narrow. "And you're bleeding pretty heavy."

"Really?" Edward shuffled forward. "Are you sure?"

Roy stared at him. "Do I ever joke in these kinds of situations?"

The teen gulped as Roy pulled the backpack closer with his feet, still examining. "I don't see any foreign materials, but we'll have to wash it out just to be sure."

After he'd poured icy water over the cut, Edward could see he wasn't lying about the severity. The cut wasn't deep enough for them to pull out of the event, but it was deep and jagged enough to warrant a bandage and a trip to the medics afterwards.

Roy rummaged through the bag as Edward eyed his throbbing injury. The man pulled out the small first-aid kit and found a bottle of antiseptic, making Edward wince and shift back.

"It needs to be done, Fullmetal." Roy folded his arms. "Give me your hand."

Edward shook his head, holding his injury to his chest. "Uh-uh. Hate that stuff."

"Edward."

The boy looked down and pressed his lips into an upset scowl. "Fine. Whatever."

Roy's face became less strict as his subordinate nervously extended his hand. "We don't want it getting infected," he said calmly. "It'll only sting for a moment."

"Yeah, right," muttered Edward, looking away as the man unscrewed the lid.

And in a matter of minutes, Roy had cleaned and wrapped the cut better than Edward thought he was skilled enough to do.

He flexed his bandaged hand experimentally, wincing as it stung with each movement.

"That wasn't so hard, eh?" said Roy, packing away the supplies. "Now, I am damn well freezing my ass off over here, so gimme some of that tea and come sit a little closer. It'll be warmer."

"Fine then, you big sissy," grumbled Edward as he moved closer. "It's not even that cold."

"'Course not," said Roy as the teen shivered and pressed tight to his side.

It went without saying that all of the teams had been hunted out before the Meinhardts. They came strolling towards the meeting spot after the hour was up, looking casual under everyone's curious gazes.

Most teams had reluctantly revealed their spots – those who had gone to the forest opposite Edward and Roy's had hid behind rocks and in trees and likewise. They had been found the first. After them was the team from Avonum, who had showed up plastered in grey mud and streaked with grasses and gravel. They had used the ground to effectively camouflage themselves and Roy once again found himself admiring their ingenuity.

The Oratoans, who had headed for the river and the familiarity of water, had bound together clumps of reeds to form their hiding spot. They had been found after Roy and Edward and another twenty minutes of searching.

But the northerners, who had lasted the whole hour, refused to share the secret of their concealment technique.

Roy nodded his approval. The Briggs mountain guard was a mysterious and elite branch of the military, and for all that the unknown technique annoyed him, even he had to admit that some part of him completely disagreed with forcing them to divulge their secrets.

He looked at Edward.

Because hell, the East and the North were kindred spirits in terms of the dark truths some soldiers carried deep inside.

I'm still on break 'til the end of January. I think school's back in the states? (I feel sorry for you…)

And OHMYGOSH Big Hero 6 just ate my life. CURSES! And my sister and I got to see more of our favourite characters die in the new Hobbit movie.

And happy International Year of Light and Light-Based Technologies, guys! *LASER PARTY*

One day I'm gonna get the hang of review replies… I think I responded to everyone who asked questions (very sorry if I missed you!) and my sincere thanks to everyone who gave me praise and even just all of you who are reading in silence. Drop a review if you silent fellows have time! Hooray for you all you guys! X3

(By the way, I went through the list of everyone following this story, so I've read everyone's names now. There are people following whose names I've never heard and that is really something, so a special thank you to all 173 of you!)