Chapter Sixteen
More time passed and it didn't seem like Ed was getting any better. Roy kept him home, but he was still really worried about him. He didn't know what was best to do for the seventeen year old anymore.
It was late, going on two in the morning, and the brunette couldn't sleep. He'd checked on Ed an hour ago and he was fast asleep in his own room, but that had done nothing to calm his nerves. He went from there down to the kitchen and turned a light on. He was quiet as he opened cabinets and got out a glass and some whiskey. He didn't want to be too drunk; he had work to do in the morning. Just enough to get back to sleep. He sighed under his breath, tilting his head back and feeling his throat burn once it made contact with the alcohol. He shaky breath escaped his lips and he shook his head a couple times to clear the taste. He hadn't done this just to get to sleep since the war. He wondered what Hughes would think if he knew.
Another swallow of the brownish liquid and his glass was half empty. He grabbed a second cup, filled it with whatever kind of pop he had in the fridge, poured the rest of the whiskey down the sink and left the glass on the counter as he went into the living room. The time on the clock said two forty four, and he wasn't tired at all yet. Maybe he'd be feeling it once the whiskey had some time to take effect. He grabbed a remote and turned on the TV.
Twenty minutes of channel surfing provided nothing interesting, and even though he was starting to feel the slight buzz he'd been looking for he grabbed his most recent case file, anyway, and got to work. He read and reread the thing but no ideas were coming. He shut the TV off so he could concentrate.
Around three fifteen he heard a quiet noise come from upstairs. He put his papers down and listened for it again. It was Ed. It was coming from his room, the sound of the blonde moving in bed, his breathing erratic, quiet words panted out between each labored breath. They were mostly 'no', and 'please', and 'stop', which convinced the slightly drunk alchemist that this was another nightmare, and a particularly bad one at that. He must be getting worse. Fearful of the worst, Roy got up and went upstairs.
"Roy," he heard the blonde gasp just before he opened the door, and stopped to listen, wondering why his name was somehow involved in his dreams. His hand settled on the doorknob. "Roy!" Ed cried out.
The teen was still lying in bed just like he'd thought he would be, his head currently turned to one side, eyes tightly closed like he was in pain, his chest quickly rising and falling with each ragged, uneven breath he took. He saw his hands tighten around the sheets, a quiet whimper escaping him before he repeated the brunette's name one more time. Roy thought about waking him up. He took a step towards him.
"Roy!" Ed frantically screamed one more time, his eyes snapping open as he shot up in bed, gasping for breath. Roy stopped a couple feet away from the bed where he stood, unsure of what to say. Ed hadn't yet noticed his presence.
"Are you…okay?" Roy asked.
The blonde turned his head to face him. Taking a second to register what had happened, his sighed under his breath and nodded. "Yeah." He replied, "I'm fine."
"Why were you…?"
"We'll talk about this in the morning."