As the darkest part of the night set in, it was clear that while Roy may be ready to walk tomorrow, Ed would not be. His fever had risen with the moon, and the dogged lucidity he'd managed for most of the day had completely vanished.

Roy was in very nearly too much pain to move, and it was getting hard to think. The one saving grace of this whole situation was that Ed's fever had gone so high that it didn't seem like he was in much pain anymore. He was uncomfortable, certainly, but his face was mostly smooth and his breathing was even, so Roy wasn't too worried, at least about that. The infection had erased pretty much everything else.

Roy wet a washcloth for Ed's forehead, nearly spilling the water when his leg gave a particularly nasty throb. Roy had managed to mostly put the pain aside when Ed had started getting really bad, but he hadn't taken painkillers and things were…not good. His leg ached with every movement, and sometimes with each breath. Roy was very used to pushing through pain, and he knew he could do it, but it was still hard.

It was especially hard because now, the responsibility for Ed's life lay solely within his hands. Roy had to keep both himself and a very injured, ill Ed alive, and that was hard enough without the constant pain of a badly broken ankle.

Roy shoved the pain aside once again and placed the washcloth against Ed's forehead. With a small gasp, Ed's eyes shot open, focusing dizzily on Roy.

"I'm awake," Ed whispered, sounding awfully uncertain.

"You shouldn't be," Roy responded. "Go back to sleep." Honestly, he wasn't sure that Ed had been asleep before - he seemed to be in the feverish limbo between dreaming and delirium. Still, he was probably more comfortable there than he was awake and talking to Roy.

Ed blinked, then shook his head lightly. Wet rivulets from the washcloth ran down his forehead and cheeks, sticking his bangs tight to his face. Roy waited for an explanation to follow the movement, but none came. Instead, Ed glanced around at the impenetrable (to Roy) darkness behind them, looking suddenly frightened.

Roy felt a sick lurch in his gut as Ed glanced around. Did the kid see something that he couldn't, out there in the darkness? But Ed continued to look around, and his eyes didn't focus on anything. It was just the fever. Roy didn't like seeing Ed scared, especially like this.

"Come on, Edward," Roy pleaded. "Try to sleep a little."

Ed blinked again, this time leaving his eyes shut long enough that Roy momentarily hoped that Ed was taking his advice. But just as he began to relax, Ed's eyelids drifted back open, and he was back to staring glassily up at Roy.

"It's alright," Roy tried, patting at Ed's shoulder awkwardly. "I'll keep us safe. You can go to sleep, you know."

Ed looked briefly frustrated, but the look was gone before he could explain why it was there, and his eyes wandered to the darkness again. Roy sighed.

"You're still too stubborn for your own good, you know," he whispered. "I'm staying awake all night anyway, whether or not you are. One of us might as well get some sleep."

Ed gave no indication that he'd understood, although Roy figured that he would have ignored him either way. Roy adjusted the cloth on Ed's forehead. He didn't know that it was helping - he didn't even know that it was making Ed feel more comfortable. If the fever could be brought down by something external, Roy was pretty sure the cold night air would have done it by now, since even Roy was shivering. But Ed's fever remained completely undeterred.

"I really think fever reducers might help you get some rest," Roy said. Roy had choked down the rest of his rabbit earlier that day, but Ed hadn't managed to eat anything, and Roy had been unsuccessful in getting him to take pills. He was swallowing hard, clearly nauseous, and Roy had barely been able to get him to drink the occasional sip of water. Roy was torn about what to do, because while if Ed started throwing up, that would quickly dehydrate him, refusing to drink water would dehydrate him just as surely. And he really needed the fever reducers - it was probably the fever that was getting him so nauseous to begin with.

Ed didn't respond to Roy's question. His eyes were still skittering blankly, trying and failing to focus on blank spots in the middle distance. Roy tapped his shoulder again, hoping to elicit a reaction, and he was rewarded with Ed's blank eyes staring up at Roy.

"You need to take fever reducers," Roy said. "You'll feel better."

Ed shook his head, but his expression made Roy think he'd already forgotten what he was responding to.

"Ed, you need the pills," Roy said.

"Can't swallow, can't swallow," Ed whispered, shaking his head vaguely again. He sounded frantic, and Roy wished there was a way to comfort him.

"What if you just tried to take them?" Roy asked, tapping Ed's shoulder to get his attention again. Roy was almost glad Ed was so out of it, because though Roy was trying his best to sound gentle, his leg was hurting so very badly that Roy was sure it must be bleeding through in his voice. The last thing he needed was for feverish Ed to forget that Roy was injured, and just think he was angry. "If I get them for you, and then you don't want them, I'll take them back."

"The pills?" Ed whispered, still staring creepily at a spot somewhat beyond Roy.

"Yeah," Roy said tightly. "I'll just give them to you, and you can try to take them."

Ed nodded. Roy didn't know if he knew what he was agreeing to, but since he clearly really needed pills, Roy didn't want to give him a chance to second guess himself. Shifting to grab them from the pack made him hiss with pain, but he just kept reminding himself that he was doing better than Ed was, and it was still his job to take care of Ed.

Roy held the pills out to Ed. Ed eyed them suspiciously. Roy nudged the bottle of water closer. Ed just kept blinking, until Roy shoved the bottle of water gently against Ed's fingers.

Almost automatically, Ed's hand curled around it, and he blinked down at it in vague confusion. After a pause that was far too long, his focus sharpened and he took the pills from Roy's other hand.

Watching him swallow was painful. Roy almost gagged himself as he watched Ed's throat work desperately to keep the pills and the water down, but he forced himself not to let the emotion show on his face. If he was in Ed's position, and he watched someone else gag, he would surely throw up. He didn't want to be the thing to push Ed over the edge.

Eventually, Ed made a face, slumping back down to the ground. Roy watched him keenly for the next few minutes, but he didn't show any signs of immediately vomiting, and Roy relaxed a little.

But when the fever reducers started to actually take effect, all chance of relaxation fled. Roy was still watching Ed fairly closely, and eventually he looked over and saw Ed's face set in a pained grimace.

"Are you alright?" Roy asked sharply.

Ed looked over at him, and the feverish shine in his eyes had dissipated slightly, but now he just looked exhausted and in pain. "...Yep."

Roy knew he was lying. Now that the fever was a little lower, Ed was cognizant enough to be back to the excruciating pain.

"Do you want a dose of painkillers?" Roy asked. It was a terrible thing to wish for, but he almost hoped that Ed was still out of it enough that he accepted the painkillers without protest.

Ed's eyes narrowed in slow, feverish thought, and Roy was simultaneously upset and relieved as Ed shook his head.

"No. We…we need those tomorrow."

"We need sleep tonight," Roy pointed out. "If it gets bad, just take them."

"It won't," Ed mumbled vaguely, shutting his eyes. Roy stayed up, staring fixedly at him and waiting for some kind of signal that he was in enough pain to warrant the painkillers. He was half-expecting Ed to open his eyes again and make some sort of rude comment about how weird Roy was being by staring, but Ed just lay there, tensed in pain.

After a few moments, Roy was almost tempted to simply shove the painkillers down Ed's throat. Ed had started shifting around every few seconds, unable to find a comfortable position. More often than not, his movement was accompanied by a soft whimper or moan. Roy was starting to worry that if he didn't take the painkillers soon, he would end up throwing up the fever reducers, just from the sheer amount of pain he was in.

Stubborn bastard, Roy thought to himself. Roy was in so much pain he could feel his heartbeat in his ankle, and no one was offering him painkillers. Roy was fully aware of how few painkillers they had left. He could not be more aware. But refusing painkillers wasn't going to make things easier if Ed didn't get any rest tonight, and then he wasn't able to walk tomorrow. Or hell, if Ed was in so much pain he threw up the fever reducers, there was a real chance he could die.

Ed shifted and groaned again, tried to curl in on himself but was too weak to manage. "Just take them, Ed," Roy said. "Please."

Roy didn't have the strength to keep having this same argument over and over. He just wanted Ed to go to sleep so he could keep watch - he was getting almost too exhausted to form words.

Ed mumbled something that Roy couldn't make out.

"What was that?"

"If I take 'em, you shoul' take some too."

Roy blinked. So someone was offering him painkillers after all.

And Roy…Ed was in so much pain. They didn't have enough. Roy couldn't take them. He wouldn't. Ed was in this situation because of Roy, after all. Roy didn't want to think about this too hard, not while they were still in the woods, but Ed had taken the knife to protect Roy. Ed needed rest, and all the painkillers they had left would be his.

"No, I don't need them," Roy said. "My leg got numb a while back. I'm sure that's bad too, but…."

This was a lie. But it was worth it. Ed looked up at Roy with wide eyes. Roy saw his lips part slightly, but it took him a moment to gather the strength to form words.

"Really?" he finally whispered.

"Even if we had lots of painkillers, I wouldn't need to take them," Roy said. "Just…please. If you can get some sleep tonight, we'll be able to walk tomorrow."
Honestly, Roy had no idea if this was true. The odds seemed upsettingly low. But he just didn't want to see the kid in this much pain, not if there was something they could do.

"Alright," Ed whispered, almost inaudibly quiet. He shifted one of his arms, probably trying to hold it out to Roy. Roy hurried to get the pills out for Ed before he changed his mind, ignoring the way his leg throbbed each time he moved.

Roy pushed the painkillers into Ed's hand, and he dry-swallowed them shakily. At least bringing down the fever also seemed to have helped with the nausea, and Ed didn't look as sick this time around. Within a few minutes, his whole body seemed to have relaxed considerably.

"Better?" Roy asked hesitantly, a few minutes after that.

"Yeah," Ed whispered, but this time his voice just sounded mostly exhausted, rather than worn out from the excruciating pain. He sounded like he felt better, and knowing that made Roy feel better, too. They couldn't afford for Roy to take the painkillers, but getting Ed to take them felt like the next best thing. It helped him breathe easier, even if it was only for a few minutes.

"I'm goin' to sleep," Ed mumbled, squirming limply until he got himself curled into a better position on the ground. "...Thanks."

"Get some rest, Edward," Roy told him, trying not to sound as overcome with relief as he felt. If Ed really could sleep, that was something. He wasn't sure it would make any difference at all come morning, but he could hope.

Ed made a sleepy sort of grunt in response, clearly already at the brink of drifting off. Roy waited, afraid almost to move in case he disturbed Ed.

But after a while, he could hear Ed's breathing deepen and even out, and he stopped shifting around as much. He really, truly, was asleep.

Roy let out a massive breath of relief that he hadn't realized he was holding, and slipped further down the trunk of the tree he was leaning against. His ankle throbbed in warning, but Roy was exhausted enough that the pain receded backwards into a dull nagging at the back of his mind. If he was lucky, maybe he could get some sleep as well.

Carefully, trying not to jostle his ankle too much, Roy slid down the trunk into a hollow between two of the massive tree roots at the bottom. Ordinarily, he probably would have thought it was horribly uncomfortable even just to sit in, and he never would have been able to actually fall asleep. Luckily, he was worn out from pain and worry, and as soon as he closed his eyes, he felt sleep start to creep in.

When Ed opened his eyes, it was bright out. At first, the only reaction he had to that was that it was annoying, and it hurt his eyes, and he wished that it was darker. A few seconds later, as he started to shake the fog from his mind, he realized that was strange. Hadn't it been dark when he closed his eyes? Had he really slept that long?

"Wha' time issit?" Ed slurred groggily. He tried to turn over and look for Roy, but it didn't work very well. His head felt slow and muggy with fever, and his limbs were uncoordinated. Everything hurt.

He tried again, this time flopping over enough to see Roy. The alchemist was sitting a few feet away, tending a small fire that he'd built on the forest floor.

"The sun rose a few hours ago," Roy said. "You've been asleep."

"Oh," Ed said. His head still felt like it was full of cotton. He tried vaguely to roll onto his side. He didn't really have a plan for when he got there - he didn't think he was strong enough to sit up. But his back and hips were stiff from a long night on the ground, and he thought he would be more comfortable if he could shift around, even just a little.

"Hey, stay still, don't worry," Roy said. He gestured at the fire "This is…I know it doesn't seem safe, but…I don't know what else to do. It's a signal fire. You contacted the military when I went missing, right? I'm sure they're looking for us. And if they see the smoke…."

Ed realized with a jolt that he hadn't even thought to be worried about the smoke. He hadn't really thought about the fire at all - he'd just opened his eyes, noticed it, and then disregarded it.

"Yeah," Ed muttered.

"What?"

"Yeah, I…I called Hawkeye. Told her I was gonna get you out. I'm sure she's here. Lookin' for ya."

"Oh," Roy said. "Yes, you told me that earlier. I assumed she was coming. And I'm sure she'll be looking for smoke, she'll…she'll recognize it…."

Something was niggling at the back of Ed's mind, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He closed his eyes softly, opened them, wished his head would stop pounding for just a single goddamned minute.

"Oh," he finally said. "What about the bad guys?"

"What?"

"Won't they…won't they see the smoke?"

Ed knew this conversation was taking a horrifyingly long time. Roy was probably frustrated with him. Ed was frustrated with himself. But he just couldn't get his thoughts to come any clearer.

"I hope they won't," Roy said. "As far as we know, they don't even know what direction we've gone. And Riza will know to look for smoke. I'm sure she'll see it first."

If they were resorting to a signal fire anyways, Ed wasn't sure why they couldn't have just done it earlier. But then again, he was able to walk before, so they had had other options. And now, it didn't seem that they did.

"Do you want breakfast?" Roy asked. He sounded apologetic. "We don't have much, so it'll mostly just be water. It'll actually…um, it'll be entirely water."

Ed did not want breakfast, even if it was only water. It was just as well that they didn't have any food, although he figured that feeling was probably mostly brought on by fever, and he'd be wishing for food later. But right now, he was extremely nauseous. Rolling around had helped with some of the stiffness from the night spent on the hard ground, but it had also made his stomach feel queasy and unstable. If they had had food, he either wouldn't have been able to eat it, or he would have instantly thrown it up.

He didn't think the water would do much either. It was better than food, certainly, but Ed had grown to hate the feeling of having mostly water in his stomach. It felt simultaneously too full and too empty, and he ended up feeling heavy and sick, and now Ed had thought too much about this and he was making himself feel even more nauseous.

"No breakfast," Ed managed, slightly surprised when he didn't retch as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Are you sure? You really should drink something, I'm sure you're getting dehydrated…."

Ed was sure he was getting dehydrated, too. But throwing up wouldn't help with that. It would, in fact, make it worse.

Still, he knew the General was right, even with his pain and fever-fogged thoughts. He had to try to drink, because if he didn't, he was just going to make everything worse.

Ed spent a few minutes just trying to breathe. He thought Roy tried to talk to him a few times, but it couldn't have been too important, because when Ed didn't answer him, he stopped trying.

After a bit, Ed found that he did, in fact, feel a little better. His stomach had settled enough that when he opened his eyes and cautiously shifted, he didn't immediately feel like he was going to throw up.

"Okay," Ed announced to the blurry world at large.

"Okay what?" Roy asked, sounding startled.

Ed frowned. "Okay to…to the water?" He realized, belatedly, that the connections that were clear in his own foggy head probably made little to no sense to Roy. Ed didn't even know how long it had been since they'd had the conversation about breakfast. For all he knew, he could have been quietly trying to bring his stomach under control for most of the day.

No, that couldn't be right, could it? It had just been a few minutes…. He wished he had a watch. Then, he could tell what time it was, and he would know if he was really that far gone….

After what seemed like forever, it occurred to Ed that the sun was in the same place. It couldn't have been long, then.

It hadn't been long, and Roy was trying to talk to him. Roy was trying to talk to him, because Ed had started a conversation with him. "Do you think you could take some pills as well, Edward?"

Ed was staring at the fire. It was smoky, but not very smoky. Riza would probably have to be pretty close to see it. Not very close, but pretty close. There was a way to make a fire smokier. You could add…something. Something you could find in nature. Ed couldn't remember what it was though. Maybe a leaf. But maybe a leaf would kill the fire. Leaves might be too moist. Maybe….

"Edward?"

Ed's gaze bounced back to Roy. Roy was looking awfully pale. Almost sickly. Was it just the light? No, wait, he'd broken his leg the other day. Yesterday? Was that only yesterday? Ed's eyes flicked down to Roy's ankle, but everything was neatly covered by Roy's pant leg. Ed didn't know how bad it was.

It must not be too bad. Roy had managed to get fuel for the fire, so he must still be able to move. Crawl, at least. Ed wanted to ask Roy how he was doing, but the words got lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth. He shook his head lightly, trying to clear it.

"Edward?" Roy asked again. He moved forward slightly, as if he were going to try to touch Ed, but his face went a funny, milky shade of white and he sat back down. That was…it seemed bad but….

"What?" Ed managed. His lips felt horrifyingly dry, blistering with fever heat. How had he not noticed that before? He was surprised they didn't crack off when he tried to speak.

"Do you think you could take some pills? The fever reducers and painkillers?"

Ed thought about it. A few minutes ago, he had thought if he put anything in his mouth, he would vomit it up instantly. Now, he didn't feel quite so nauseous, although he still wasn't particularly optimistic. And they had made him feel much better last night. Tentatively, he nodded.

"This is the last dose of painkillers," Roy said. "And we learned last night, it's not good for you to take the fever reducers without the painkillers."

Ed blinked. "The…last dose?"

"Yeah," Roy said. "But that's why we have this fire, right? I've kept it lit for a few hours now. I might even be able to make it a little bigger. And Riza will come, she'll rescue us. You'll see. You won't even need a second dose."

Was Roy rambling? Ed thought he might be rambling. Ed also didn't think he was right - Ed was in pretty bad shape, obviously, but bad enough to merit the last dose of painkillers? What if things got worse later on, and they needed them then?

Roy fumbled in the pack, and handed the pills to Ed. Ed tried to grab them, but realized he'd gotten too weak to even lift his arm. He had to concentrate very hard on what he was doing. Okay, so things weren't good, exactly, but….

But they could always get worse. Or could they? Ed did feel terrible, like if he could manage to fall asleep, it would be more like falling unconscious. But that could still be worse. He could actually be unconscious. Of course, then, he wouldn't have to feel like he was crawling out of his own too-hot, too-tight, too-itchy skin….

Ed decided he didn't know which was worse, which made sense, because he didn't remember why he'd been thinking about that in the first place. It probably didn't matter, it was just the fever.

"Edward?"

Ed looked up, past his half-raised arm towards Roy's pale, worried face. Why had he been lifting his arm? He felt terrible enough that any sort of movement was taxing, and he didn't want to waste the energy. He put it back down again.

"Edward, can you take the pills?"

Roy didn't sound too good. His voice was tense and almost frightened, although Ed didn't think that could be right. Roy never sounded frightened. But he did sound pretty rough, and Ed wondered with a sick twist of worry if Roy was sick too.

"Edward." That was more like Roy, sharp and abrupt. Ed felt his hand being lifted, and something was folded into it. Actually, a few somethings, a handful of small, hard, capsules. They felt like….

Pills. That was right, Ed was supposed to be taking pills. They would help him drive back the fever that was slow-cooking his brain, and maybe even help with the pain that was hiding in the edges where the fever hadn't made it.

With every last ounce of concentration that remained in his scattered head, Ed laboriously raised the pills to his lips. It was hard - it felt like he was moving his arm through molasses. For a second, Ed was back in Resembool, a twelve-year old with a metal arm he was barely strong enough to lift.

And then, the pills were bitter on his tongue and he was in the forest, with Roy. His arm wasn't made of metal anymore, he was just sick and hurt and very, very weak.

Ed swallowed the pills with a series of uncomfortable gulps. His throat felt dry and tight, and the pills seemed to stick slightly on the way down. Ed didn't remember it being this unpleasant to take medicine, and he wondered if he'd done something wrong somehow. He probably had - nothing in his body felt like it was working quite right, including his mind and memory.

But these would help. He was taking the pills that would help him now, and they would make him feel better. And then he would be here in the forest with Roy, and they'd still be fucked, but at least they'd have a chance. Hawkeye would see the signal fire and come to find them.

He just had to wait. He would start to feel better in a few minutes.