He waited, in his crouched position behind the table, right up until Kine's shoes appeared by his face, before throwing himself out in front of him, his stance cat-like, leaving Ed ready to make his next move. Which happened to be an uppercut involving Ed's biological fist and Kine's face.
He refrained from using his automail. He didn't want to kill the guy, after all – just cause enough bodily harm for satisfactory payback.
Of course, the gun went off again, just as Ed's fist made contact with Kine's jaw, but as the ringing silence that followed the shot wasn't accompanied by blinding pain, he could safely assume that the bullet had once more missed its target.
Kine tumbled to the floor for the second time in the last few minutes, the gun this time bouncing noisily from his grasp. Ed seized it as it skittered to a halt by his boot, giving it a calculating look before stowing it in his pocket.
It just wasn't his style to point a gun at defenceless man, no matter how much of an ass said man was.
He chose instead to clap his hands, drawing one of his signature blade-tipped staves from the earthen ground and holding it defensively in front of him. Kine looked up at him wide eyed, nursing a split lip and a swollen jaw. Ed watched him wearily, his head throbbing sharply from what he could only assume was the head injury from before. He stubbornly stayed upright without showing any weakness, however, curling his lip slightly as he regarded the man crumpled in front of him.
"Now, what'cha say we take a trip down to Central, so that I can turf you over to the military and finally hand in my report – which better still be in tact somewhere around here, by the way – to Mustang. He's enough of an ass to deal with on a normal day, but thanks to you, I'm gonna have to deal with him being pissy about my lateness, on top of that. And I have a headache." Ed snarled, glowering as he touched the cut on his forehead. Incredibly, Kine looked unconcerned that a very pissed off Fullmetal Alchemist was looming over him, holding a sharp weapon. Instead his eyes were fixed on something behind Ed. Frowning, Ed started to turn, only to be immobilised by a pair of arms hooking underneath his own, holding him fast and lifting his feet from the ground.
"What the-mpfh!" A third arm, from God only knows where, to cover his mouth and nose. He didn't fail to notice that the arms, much like a bears, were covered in thick dark fur, and that the familiar sour, cloying smell was filling his nostrils again, stronger that before.
'Chimera...'Ed thought darkly, kicking his legs against the mass behind him in a vain attempt to dislodge himself from the grasp of the much stronger chimera. Kine got slowly to his feet, brushing himself down as he did so, an infuriatingly smug smile on his lips.
"Come now, Edward," he said silkily, moving towards where he was held captive. "Out of all the chimeras I made, didn't you even consider that at least one would be successful?" Ed glared at him, curses muffled by the chimeras paws. Kine laughed, his spirits absurdly high for someone that had just been punched in the face, and signalled to the chimera to hold Ed tighter. Ed winced as what he could only guess was claws pierced his shoulders. He struggled again fruitlessly, but his stomach dropped slightly as he realised that amount of oxygen he could draw in was being seriously restricted by his blocked airways, and he was beginning to feel light headed. Kine, who was now uncomfortably close to Ed, smiled obscenely and reached towards Ed's trousers. Ed's golden eyes widened, confused panic momentarily entering them, but Kine merely reached into Ed's pocket, still smiling, and pulled out the gun.
"Can't have you running around with this now," he murmured, sliding it into his own pocket. Ed, feeling fainter by the second, struggled again, weaker now, suffering from the lack of oxygen. The claws pressed deeper into the backs of his shoulders, and Ed could feel warm liquid seeping into his shirt, spreading darkly and alarmingly quickly across his chest. His vision was beginning to swim. Kine's grin slipped a little.
"Careful!" He snapped at the massive chimera, "I need him alive, with his mind fully functioning. Don't suffocate him!" The pressure lessened slightly, and Ed kicked feebly at the chimera again, frustrated with his own powerlessness. His eyesight greyed at the edges, and he could feel his grip on consciousness slipping again. He growled angrily. How could he have been so careless? How could he have forgotten that, the first time he had been captured, Kine had been assisted then too? His mind jumped erratically from escape plan to escape plan, and he almost deliriously wondered whether Central had missed him yet. He knew it was the oxygen deficiency scrambling his thoughts, and unsuccessfully attempted to draw in another breath, but the arms covering his airways were also restricting his chest. His last coherent thought before his eyes rolled up into his head and unconsciousness dragged him under was, bizarrely, that Mustang was going to be really pissed this time. Ed bet he'd caused him a whole mountain of paperwork.
Their footsteps intruded, in what seemed to be an oddly loud taboo, on the quiet of the graveyard. The light had long since faded from the sky, and the dull grey of dusk frowned upon them, weighing heavy on the shoulders of the three, the crunching of their footfall reaching out into the moist air. What could initially be mistaken for tranquillity felt increasingly like a disapproving oppression; they did not belong here, the static headstones seemed to mutter, it is a place for the dead, not for the living to dwell as they please.
Roy breathed out forcefully, noting absently that he could just about see his breath misting in the air. With the absence of sunlight, the temperature had begun to drop quite quickly. He turned to Al.
"Which way is it to your mother's grave, Alphonse?" he asked, voice automatically dropping to fit with the hushed surroundings. Al nodded in the direction of a lone tree, about 100 yards away.
"That way, just over the crest of the hill. You'll be able to see it when we reach that tree." Even as Al was talking, Winry had already begun to move silently in the direction he had indicated, forcing the two men to jog quickly after her. None of them attempted to voice their mutual concern for what they might find, but Winry secretly held onto the hope that Ed was fine, that he really had just lost track of time, and that their fears would be unfounded.
Having the longest legs of the three, Roy was the first to reach the tree, Winry and Al still a number of strides behind when he scanned the scene in front of him. A surge of panic rushed through her body, curling an iron fist around her heart, as Winry saw Roy freeze momentarily, and then break into a run. She and Al followed suit, the silence punctured by Al's desperate, questioning cry of "General?" as they ran.
Roy's mind had gone eerily blank. After reaching the tree, his eyes barely had to search the sprawling clusters of gravestones before he located Trisha Elric's out of the crowd. Not that her headstone had any particularly distinguishing features; in fact it was much the same as the ones that surrounded it. No, what drew his gaze towards this headstone, what the other graves lacked in comparison, was the motionless body of a young man, lying loosely curled on his side, face turned away. In the few seconds that he stood there, frozen, a raven fluttered to land carelessly on top of the headstone above Ed, its dark feathers gleaming quietly as it carked almost plaintively into the rapidly approaching evening gloom. At that moment, Roy felt that the scene before him was one of the most terrifying that he had ever faced.
He found himself breaking into a run, not stopping to acknowledge someone – Alphonse? – cry out his rank in alarm behind him, his focus directed entirely at the prone figure before him as thoughts flooded clumsily through his mind, only a few of them coherent;
'Please, God... if there is anything divine up there whatsoever, then please let him be okay... damn it, don't tell me he's gone and done something stupid...'
Within a matter of seconds he was skidding to his knees beside Ed, his noisy arrival provoking indignant chattering from the ruffled bird as it retreated to the safety of a nearby tree. He swallowed dryly as he rolled Ed, as gently as he could, onto his back, wincing as he noted how cold and clammy the young man's skin was, and the paleness of it. The dread that had settled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach churned sharply as he realized just how long Ed could have been lying out here, in the cold, damp graveyard – something that was never good for a healthy person to do, let alone someone with a serious injury, who had practically been in a coma for the past three weeks. Dark little thoughts of hypothermia, exposure and shock wormed their way to the surface of his mind – Ed could easily have any of the three, if not all at once. Panicked, Roy shook him carefully by the shoulders.
"Fullmet-" he stopped himself. "Edward," he corrected, speaking his name firmly. "Edward, can you hear me? Edward?" The young man's head rolled limply to one side, his golden hair spilling over his face. Roy, breathed in unevenly, bringing his fingers to Ed's throat to check his pulse. It was at this moment that Winry and Al arrived beside him, falling to their knees in much the same manner as Roy had a few minutes previously.
"B-Brother?" Al's questioning cry came out as almost a whisper. Roy barely registered it; he was still holding his breath, fingers pressed to Ed's neck. He waited, for what seemed like an eternity, though it couldn't have been more than a few seconds in reality, angling his fingers in every possible direction to try and seek out his pulse.
And, suddenly, it was there.
It was too fast, and erratic, but it was there.
Relief washed over him, almost crippling in its intensity, and Roy released the breath he'd been holding. Winry moved forward to brush the hair from Ed's face.
"Is he...?" her question hung fragilely in the stagnant air, and she continued to smooth Ed's hair, the only sign that she'd spoken being the tremor in her hands as she waited for Roy's answer.
"He has a pulse," he said quickly, before Winry could assume the worst. His eyes strayed to Ed's face, lingering for a moment on it. His pale skin looked almost grey in the half-light, and the contrast with the dark circles under his eyes was stark; the shadows almost looked like bruises. Winry pressed a hand to his face.
"His skin is really cold, and his breathing is shallow," she murmured softly, almost to herself. Years of reading medical textbooks, and working with a variety of automail patients was kicking in, and she began to catalogue Ed's symptoms. "vasoconstriction is paling the skin, he's tachycardic and so far unresponsive but doesn't seem to be shivering." She turned her face towards Roy. "If I had to guess, I'd say he's hypothermic." Roy nodded; what she was saying made sense. Whilst he hadn't had any formal medical training, nor had he the medical background that Winry possessed, he was still a soldier, and had dealt with enough conditions in the field to understand what was going on.
"Either that, or he's going into shock. Help me check him over for any new injuries?" Roy asked, running his hand along Ed's arm. Winry nodded, and began to check his torso, where it wasn't bandaged, noting with some relief that the dressing was still clean. Ed's arm proved to have no injuries, other than some bruising around the needle hole made by the IV. Al had been quiet so far, sitting back and letting the two more experienced members of the party check over his brother.
"Is he going to be okay?" he asked, feeling smaller that he'd felt in a long time. Winry's eyes blazed with determination.
"Yes. But we need to get him back to the house and warm him up – check him over properly. He's been out here a long time, and we don't know how long he's been unconscious for." She reached out to smooth Ed's shirt back down over his bandages, realising grimly that Ed was only wearing a thin, short sleeved shirt, and cotton trousers – not exactly insulating clothing. She turned to Roy.
"I've never really dealt with hypothermia before; just read about it in my parents medical books. Do you think we should move him?" Roy scrubbed a hand over his face tiredly. He'd dealt with hypothermia himself on several occasions; it was a common risk as a soldier was exposed to the elements a lot of the time and especially common during wintertime wars and sieges, which he'd seen his share of. However, most of the time, it had been nameless fellow soldiers he'd had to help, not anyone as close as Ed – treating someone he knew so well was much more draining. He found himself guiltily realising that he cared a whole lot more for Ed's well being than he had for any of the soldiers he'd had to try and aid during wars and field missions. Winry's face was pinched with worry, she was biting her lip viciously in an attempt to distract herself from the gnawing anxiety and terror she felt inside. Everything was falling apart; Ed was getting worse instead of better. Roy exhaled loudly.
"I'm worried about how long he's been unconscious. It's also going to be pretty difficult to get Ed back to the house without him at least somewhat cooperative." He rolled forward on his knees, leaning over Ed's motionless form. Gently, he pried one of Ed's eyelids open, encouraged when the pupil dilated as light hit his eye. He let the lid slid back into place and lightly patted Ed's face in an attempt to rouse him. The fingers of Ed's left hand twitched. Al leapt forward.
"He moved!" a ghost of a smile graced the younger Elric's lips as he watched his brother's face for any sign of his waking. "Brother?"
Ed's breathing hitched, becoming deeper for a moment, then shallow again. His eyelids fluttered. Winry shuffled back slightly, pulling Al with her. Roy had the most experience here; he would know what to do better that she.
"Move away from him, Al. It's best he's not crowded if he's going to wake up." Al abided quietly, and they both hung back as Roy kneeled forward, checking Ed's pulse again. It was still too fast.
Ed's eyelids fluttered again, and this time his lips parted in a gasp, his body convulsing slightly. He was shivering now and – though it was difficult to tell in the fading light – his lips were beginning to look a little grey.
"General!" Al pleaded, watching his brother inexplicably struggle for breath. Roy moved forward, grasping Ed's shoulders. The young man seemed for all the world to be having a nightmare, thrashing weakly in Roy's arms, skin still freezing to the touch. Suddenly, Ed's eyes flew open, staring straight up at the darkening sky, and he gasped out one word.
"...Kine..." Confused, Roy glanced at Winry, but she seemed none the wiser on the matter, and he turned his attention back to Ed. He seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open, still breathless and limp.
"Edward? Ed, can you hear me?" he spoke softly, but firmly. Ed stiffened, still murmuring incoherently. Roy thought he heard the word 'chimera' in there somewhere. He reached out to grab Ed's arm again, but this time he reacted unexpectedly. As soon as Roy touched him, Ed jerked backwards, his eyes wild, but at the same time, strangely blank. Roy's stomach sank as he realised that Ed didn't recognise him, or even seem to know where he was. He lay awkwardly on his side, with only one arm to balance on, and seemed to look through Roy.
"I-I won't help you... you bastard..." he gasped, still battling some unseen force for air. Roy raised his eyebrows, unsure of how to reply. Edging slightly closer, he adopted a low tone and tried again.
"Edward, it's Roy Mustang, can you hear me?" This seemed to have an effect. His eyes wavered, and something like recognition flared in them. He frowned, shivering.
"M-Mustang?" He drew in uneven, short breaths. "I-I'm sorry," he panted. Roy looked confused.
"For what?" he asked, edging closer. Ed shivered convulsively.
"I-I'm, ah, l-late for my r-report... ag-gain," Roy opened hi s mouth to reply, but was cut short by Ed rolling over suddenly, leaning heavily on his only elbow as he gagged, bringing up the meagre amount of food in his stomach. Roy swore, darting the short distance to his side and holding him up before he could do a face-plant in the dirt. Ed retched emptily a couple more times, shivering.
"Ed?" Roy asked tentatively. He groaned, lifting his head slightly to look groggily at Roy. His eyes, Roy noted, had a new shine of clarity to them.
"M-Mustang?" Bemusedly his eyes travelled past Roy to the gravestones behind him, and then to Winry and Al. "Wh-where the hell a-am I? Why i-is it s-so g-god damn c-cold?"
Roy studied Ed for a moment before reaching up and rubbing a hand over his face.
"Shit, Ed. How many times are you going to try and kill me with a heart attack this week? Just a rough estimate?" He helped the shivering man to sit up and shrugged off his coat.
"Here," he said, wrapping the greatcoat around Ed's shoulders. He wheezed, massaging his ribs absently, still unable to take any full breaths.
"D-damn that b-bastard... nearly s-suffocated me..." he murmured, the shivering distorting his words. Frowning, Roy took a hold of Ed's shoulders again, forcing him to look at him.
"Edward, where do you think we are?" he queried quietly. Ed blinked sluggishly, his movements worryingly slow. Gradually, whatever was clouding his vision cleared, and he looked tiredly around again.
"O-oh," he slumped forward again slightly. "Y-yeah, I know. I-I remember..." he trailed off cryptically. Roy shook him gently, trying to keep him awake. His stomach twisted anxiously; Ed was clearly confused, he wasn't really coherent, and was worryingly vague and distracted. Definitely hypothermic.
"R-risembool." Ed's head jerked up, his eyes holding Roy's, clear once again. Roy quirked an eyebrow.
"Excuse me?" Ed wrinkled his nose.
"Y-you asked m-me wh-where we are, s-stupid," the usual sarcasm in Ed's tone was ruined by the tremors in his voice. He juddered forward suddenly, a hiss of pain shaken from his lips. Roy caught him, alarmed, watching as Ed brought his left hand up to claw at his empty automail port.
"Whoa, easy! What's wrong?" His features were contorted with pain, and Winry darted forward with what Roy considered to be a very un-ladylike swear on her lips.
"It's his automail!" She hurriedly moved to roll up his trouser leg, exposing the automail. The flesh around the port did not look good; the scars from the surgery looked a dark bluish purple colour, and the skin was beginning to turn blue. The metal was leeching the warmth from his body rapidly, and Winry could only imagine that the cold steel felt like fire next to his skin.
"We need to get him back to the house; if we don't warm him up soon, the cold is going to cause permanent damage to his limbs where the automail joins."
Ed grabbed at one of Roy's arms with surprising strength.
"I-It's fine," he said, through clenched teeth, "h-help me up," Roy nodded mutely, sliding an arm around Ed's waist as Winry stepped back, and hauled Ed up to his feet. It was a good thing Roy kept a hold of Ed; he was standing for no more than a few seconds before his legs buckled, nearly dragging them both back to the ground.
"S-sorry," Ed mumbled, grasping at Roy's shirt in an attempt to regain his balance. Roy shook his head, pulling Ed's arm around his shoulder and slipping his own back around Ed's waist.
"Jeez, Ed, you're a mess," his mouth quirked slightly in a morbid smile, though smiling was the last thing he felt like doing right now. Ed snorted shakily.
"Yo-You're a m-mess," he slurred. Not the greatest come back, but it was a start.
Winry bit her lip, indecision battling across her face. She didn't want to leave Ed, but someone had to run back ahead to prepare what they'd need to treat him, and to inform Granny of what had happened. As much as she wanted to stay, Al would be better suited to helping Roy carry Ed, should he need it – despite being only 14, Al was already practically as tall as his brother, and stronger than Winry – plus, Winry would be able to find what they needed the fastest.
"I-I'll run back ahead first," she said, making her decision. "Someone has to prepare what we need for Ed, and I'm not going to be as much help as Al will be carrying Ed back." Ed turned his head weakly.
"I-I can walk, y-you know," he stammered huffily. Roy shifted his position, holding Ed tighter as he swayed on the spot.
"Yeah, 'cos your doing such a great job with that right now," he grunted snarkily. Al put a hand on Winry's shoulder, and smiled slightly.
"Thanks, Winry. Tell Granny we'll get him back as fast as possible." She nodded and took off in a run back the way they'd come. Roy watched her go briefly before turning his attention back to the wilting young man under his arm. Ed's eyelids were drooping, and his condition seemed to be worsening. Grimly Roy nudged him.
"Come on, Edward. Can you start walking for me?" His gaze drifted vaguely to Roy's, movements still concerningly slow, before he nodded absently, stumbling forward with Roy's aid, uncharacteristically obedient.
"Do you need any help, General?" Al asked softly, ready to assist should he be needed.
Roy shook his head.
"He's gotten a lot lighter since the last time I had to do this," he trailed of bleakly. Al bit his lip, matching his pace to theirs. As they walked, Ed's movements became increasingly uncoordinated, and he tripped a few times, his automail leg especially uncooperative. They had just reached the tree at which Roy had originally spotted Ed from, when Ed pitched unexpectedly forward, a dead weight dragging Roy down with him. Ed jolted from Roy's grasp as they hit the floor, Roy landing on all fours and Ed rolling slightly, unmoving from the spot on which he fell. Roy cursed and scrambled over to the fallen teenager, Al hot on his heels. Edward was curled in on himself slightly; a thin sheen of sweat covering his clammy skin, and his face was drawn with pain. He opened his eyes, just far enough for the golden irises to show through.
"A-automail," he spat out the word through gritted teeth as an explanation. Together, Roy and Al rolled Ed onto his back, and Al yanked at his shirt collar to get a better look at the scarred flesh around the shoulder port. It was faring no better that it had been before, the skin looking grey and swollen where it met metal. The metal itself was like ice to touch. Roy tried to get Ed up.
"Come on, it's not much further," he said, the calm tone marred by the underlying concern that rang through his voice. Ed groaned as Roy forced him back up into a sitting position, his hand shooting to his chest reflexively.
"Ed?" Roy reached to lift his shirt, to see what was paining him.
"Ches' hurts," he murmured. The bruising on Ed's chest was much more extensive than Roy had first noticed, darkest over where his ribs were broken. Ed shook his head sluggishly.
"It's f-fine," he mumbled, trying to get up, "J-just hard t-to take deep br-breaths," Roy offered his arm for support again, and Al helped by pulling Ed's limp arm over Roy's shoulders.
"Wh-where are we g-going?" Ed panted in between shivers and too shallow breaths. Roy shot him a shrewd, concerned glance. His confusion was getting worse.
"The Rockbell house, to get you fixed up, remember?" Ed swayed.
"R-right..." He pushed himself away from Roy, staggering over to the tree a few feet away. Leaning heavily against it, he turned back to face him and Al.
"Let – Let me just catch m-my breath f-for a second," he said, puffs of air escaping his lungs between words. He leaned there for a couple of minutes, trembling. The kid looked like hell, Roy surmised mentally. His hair was hanging limply half out of its ponytail, framing his face. His skin was so pale that it looked grey, and his lips were beginning to look the wrong colour.
"I don't want to rush you, or anything, but I think you've been out here long enough, Ed." Roy moved towards him. Ed's head bobbed upwards feebly. His eyes looked unfocussed.
"Wh-where are we g-going?" he rasped. Dread twisted, for what felt like the millionth time that day, in Roy's gut.
"The Rockb- Shit!" Roy's answer was cut off by his curse as Ed's eyes rolled up and he collapsed bonelessly forward, well and truly unconscious this time, and he darted forward, catching him. Al wailed behind him, moving to help him lower his limp brother to the floor. Numbly, Roy checked Ed's pulse, relieved to find it still there.
"We have to get him back now, General!" Al said, voice trembling. They tried lifting him in the same manner as before, putting his arm over Roy's shoulder, but without Ed's cooperation, they couldn't keep him upright, and without his other arm attached, Al couldn't get enough grip to support his other side. Roy made a snap decision.
"I'm going to have to carry him," he announced, sliding one arm beneath Ed's legs, and the other behind his back. Even if he had grown to be taller than Winry, Ed was still a good head shorter than Roy, and with all the weight he seemed to have lost over the last few weeks added to the fact he was missing half his automail, Roy managed to lift him fairly easily. Al scuttled backwards, as Roy rose to his feet, Ed unprotesting and silent in his arms, his head lolling to one side.
"Let's go." He said, breaking into a jog, moving as fast as he could without jostling the unconscious teenager in his arms.
Winry and Pinako had just finished their preparations when they heard the front door burst open, Al calling for them. Winry hurried out into the hall to find Roy carrying a pale and shivering Edward over the threshold, with Al flapping around at this side.
"What happened?" she gasped, moving quickly to Roy's side.
"He just passed out again," He grimaced. "His pulse is still a little fast, and he's still freezing – where shall I put him?" Winry gestured towards Ed's old room.
"Through here; we've set up another saline drip, but this time warmed it slightly, so that the fluids entering his body will help to raise his temperature." Roy nodded, following her through to the bed.
"Granny said we have to warm him up slowly, though. If we do it too fast it will shock his system."
He set Ed down gently on the bed, and Winry quickly moved to cover him with a blanket before hoisting herself up onto the bed to lie next to Ed. Roy raised an eyebrow.
"What are you doing?" Winry's cheeks flushed darkly.
"B-Body heat! Well, Ed doesn't have a fire in his room..." She looked defiantly up at Roy. "Granny told me to!" Roy raised his hands.
"No, I didn't mean any offence – it's a good idea." He smiled. Quietly, Al climbed up onto the other side of Ed and squeezed himself into the bed too. Winry smiled at Al, grateful to him for making the situation a little less awkward, but slightly annoyed that she didn't get to do this by herself. Winry blushed even deeper upon realising this, but pushed the thought from her head, instead choosing to press herself against Ed's freezing skin. She winced as the icy automail of his leg burned against her skin, but stayed huddled close to his body. This was the least she could do for him.
"Al, try to get the automail port on his shoulder warmed up first. Once the metal on his body is warm, we can start the saline drip." Al nodded and wriggled upwards to press his chest to his brother's shoulder.
Roy sank into a nearby chair, a sigh on his lips.
"Ahh. I knew Ed was a bad luck magnet, but this is just ridiculous," He laughed quietly.
Silence descended upon the room, settling over the occupants heavily, drawing drowsiness in its wake.
Roy shook himself. As tired as he was, he couldn't afford to fall asleep yet. There were still things he had to take care of. A sudden thought occurred to him.
"Where's Maes, anyway?" he asked, pulling himself out of the slouch he had sunk into.
"Right here," a voice sounded from behind the door, and Hughes came into view, armed with a tray full of mugs. "Thought you could all use something warm to drink."
"Ah, Maes, you're a mind-reader," Roy took a mug of tea from the tray, and settled back into his chair. After setting the tray on the table near Al and Winry, Hughes pulled up a chair near to Roy's.
"Miss Rockbell filled me in on the situation." He murmured. "How's he at the moment?"
"He's getting warmer – we'll put the saline drip in soon," Winry replied quietly from the bed. Hughes nodded, turning to Roy.
"Hawkeye called again. She's taking care of everything at Central, just like you asked. There doesn't seem to be any problems so far. She says that you've got a mountain of paperwork, though." He smiled wryly as Roy groaned.
"What do you think she'll do if I just burn it when I get back?" Roy moaned, rubbing his fingers together. Hughes laughed.
"Probably shoot you. But nowhere vital, mind. She'll make sure you're still able to re-do it all."
Roy chuckled darkly, as Pinako bustled into the room.
"It's getting late; how's Edward doing?" She asked. No reply came from either Winry or Al. Pinako made a noise of irritation and moved over to the bed.
"Ha, well it seems that I'll just have to put the IV in myself," she said softly, amusement clear in her voice. Frowning, Roy rose from his chair to see what she meant, Hughes right behind him.
Both Winry and Al were sleeping peacefully, curled protectively around Edward, who appeared to have stopped shivering, and had a little colour returning to his face. He smirked as he noticed that Winry was pressed especially close to Ed's body. That would be a funny situation to witness when they both awoke in the morning. Pinako reached around Winry and set about inserting the needle into Ed's arm, before backing off and motioning to the two men to follow.
"They'll be fine sleeping there tonight. At least they'll all be warm, and Ed will have someone with him all night." She closed the door gently behind them, and bid other two goodnight, making her way back to her own room.
Roy and Hughes slowly made their way to the kitchen. Roy stretched his back out as he walked.
"Ugh, even if he's lost weight since he's been back, the kid's still pretty heavy." He grumbled. Hughes grinned.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were getting old, Roy." Roy scowled.
"Hey, I'm still a good year younger than you – you old man. At least I don't have kids yet." He argued good naturedly.
"Ha! That's a pretty weak come back, Roy. Your lack of children says more about your personality than your age." Roy snorted.
"Yeah, well, I've got my hands full with my subordinates at the moment. Wait until they stop trying to get themselves killed; maybe then you'll see some real children." Hughes rolled his eyes.
"Always with the excuses..." They made their way over to the large wooden table in the kitchen. Roy's expression sobered.
"In all seriousness, though, we're going to have to have a talk with Edward when he wakes up – I think he's remembered quite a bit more than he's letting on." Hughes frowned.
"How so?" Roy motioned for him to sit down opposite him. He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face before raising his eyes to Hughes'.
"When we found him, in the graveyard, he was unconscious, right?" Hughes nodded; he'd been there when Winry had relayed what had happened to her Grandmother.
"Well, when I managed to wake him up, he was almost delusional; he didn't seem to know where he was, and some of the stuff he was spouting... I don't know Maes. Something about his report and I swear I heard him mention chimeras. He thought I was someone else at first – someone named 'Kain' or 'Kine' I think." Roy sighed. Hughes took his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Whatever it is, it can wait until morning. I don't know about you, but I'm beat, and I wasn't the one running around outside for three hours." He stood up, making his way towards the darkened hall.
"Don't stay up all night thinking about this, Roy." He advised, before disappearing through the door.
"Yeah..." Roy murmured, more to himself to anyone else. He leaned back in his chair, tilting his head up to stare up at the blank, expressionless ceiling, hoping that his mind – filled with heavy and cumbersome thoughts – would take inspiration from it. No such luck.
He exhaled noisily. Sleep was not going to come easily tonight.
A/N: Oookay~ So that's another chapter uploaded! Bleegh. FF keeps killing my formatting, and I'm not clever enough to work out how to fix it... T^T
Ugh, this one was kind of a rush job – especially the ending; my brother was pestering me to come and play 'Halo: Reach' with him, and I wanted to finish this chapter first, so I had to speed through a couple of bits! So sorry if you can really tell – I hope this chapter isn't too bad.
Again, sorry for how long this is taking me – life has been veeeery hectic of late; I'm off to Uni in a week, and I've had a lot to sort out over the past couple of months. What can I say? To voice a cliché: Life's a bitch, haha.
Ah, before I forget, anything medical or scientific in there was purely based on my own (not very extensive) knowledge, so if anyone can see any glaring mistakes or anything really wrong, please don't hesitate to point it out – constructive criticism of any kind is mucho welcome.
As I've said before, I'm going to re-write the entire thing once it's done, and re-upload it, just so that I can have my mind at rest.
Anyway, I'm going to try very hard to get another chapter up before I move out next Friday, but it will be chaotic here, so no promises! ^^'
If anyone out there is still reading, then thank-you for sticking with my craptastic writing and my lousy update skills! Please show some love with a little review, if you can – they make me ridiculously happy! :D
Thank-youuu~