A/N: Mornin', mornin'! Long time (what, two months?) no see! Sorry for the extremely late update, my life's been pretty much a mess for the last few weeks. Sorry again, and thank you very much for the response for this story. Though, wouldn't it be nicer to leave more reviews? *pushing my luck*
Nonetheless, don't forget to leave a review, follow and favorite! It really boosts me up! Thank you for the support, really!
This chapter, it's more like an explanation and, well, taking things a bit easier. A bit. It will be continued in the next one, as usual. As per warnings, same old. I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, only the OCCs.
So, on with the slaughter...
Chapter 10 – Greetings to the Wounded
"Mister Mustang? Mis- MISTER MUSTANG! STOP SHAKING!" the nurse shouted. The doctor grabbed his arm, preventing him from pulling off the needles that connected him to the blood supply and the dripping bag next to him. Roy was panting hard and was fighting to move, despite the medical advice.
"Sir, it's alright, just stop struggling!" Realising his surroundings, Roy calmed down and yanked his hand free from the doctor's. He hurt everywhere, he found it difficult to breath and he was connected to way too many dripping bags. He had needles everywhere. Relentlessly, he wiggled his toes and fingers. Okay, he was not paralysed, that much was obvious. He made some slow movements as to see whether he had any physical damage besides the apparent ones. He was happy to find there was none.
"May I know what is going on and where am I?" he asked gravely, his authoritative-self showing its head.
"You are in a hospital, in the Fuhrer's private room as per his orders. You have been out for almost three days and the operation went smoothly, you should recover very fast. You were urgently brought here after your subordinates- Sir? Is everything alright?" the middle-aged doctor demanded, seeing how Roy's pupils suddenly dilated and he covered his mouth, painfully curved down, with his left hand, which was surprisingly not covered in needles.
"Oh no...," he muttered, his dark eyes losing all their shine. He blinked a few times, trying to find the strength to form a few words. Voice cracking a bit, he asked as calm as he could muster, "Was I brought alone? Was there anyone else? Blond? Anyone?... Please, tell me..."
The nurse smiled sweetly. "We were informed to not give any details ab-"
"I DON'T CARE!" Roy yelled, panting harder than he should have. He once again covered his mouth, faking a cough, a pained sob making its way out instead. "I am sorry," he muttered to the shocked medical personnel, who backed off after hearing his rage. "But please, tell me if there was anyone else... if he's still alive..."
Looking at the pitiful officer, the doctor sighed. "All we know is that a very injured young man was also hospitalised here, but we don't know anything about his current status. I believe he is still unconscious, though we should be announced if anything were to have happened to him. I believe he went through surgery as well and is recovering, like you also should."
"No, no, I am fine... I need to see him," Roy replied, a flash of hope in his eyes. He needed to know if his sunshine was alright, to see his golden eyes and shining automail. To make sure his ray of joy was still breathing and didn't perish because of him.
"It's better if you don't, Sir, you need to rest," the nurse tried to hold him down, at least verbally, as the General was already preparing to get out of the bed.
"Sir! If you don't sit down this instant, I swear I'll make you sit down for good and won't give a single damn you are eight ranks higher than myself!" a grave feminine voice boomed behind the doctor. None heard the door opening.
Riza Hawkeye stood in front of him with her arms crossed. She had a small patch on her cheek and some other on her arms, but in rest, she looked as good as always. And definitely dangerous.
"Madam, we have to ask you to leave, Mister Mustang needs rest-"
"Leave us alone," Roy ordered, forgetting he was not at work, treating with his subordinates. "Please," he added on a second thought. The doctor sighed heavily and exited with the nurse, who was more than eager to get out of the room.
"With all due respect, what the hell are you doing, Roy? Are you trying to kill yourself after they have done everything to prevent you from croaking? Are you out of your mind?! Damn it, stop being an idiot and listen to the doctor!" she scolded and Roy could not help but straighten his back and take an official position, like he used to when he was only a mere Major and full Generals were ordering him around. His mind immediately noted that he was acting irrationally, that the Lieutenant was not ordering him anything, but doing her best to stabilise him. For his own good.
"Excuse me, Riza, but I need to know if he's alright, if he didn't... he didn't... It's my fault he was there... It's my fault... Fuck, Gods damn it, Riza, I'm lost without him, I will never forget myself if he dies! Oh, Gods..." His powerful facade fell, tears falling down his cheeks in rivers. He was not like that, darn it! He hadn't cried even when his parents were killed, why did he lose it so easily that time?
The woman sat on his hospital bed and hugged him tightly. "Easy, Roy, calm down, everything is fine. It's not your fault, alright? And Edward is not dead, by the way."
Roy flung his eyes wide open. "He... he's alive? Like breathing and stuff?"
"Yeah, alive people have the tendency to breath," Riza jested and saw the colour returning to her friend's face.
He wiped his pathetic tears away. If he thought it better, the doctor said that as well. 'Pull yourself together, stupid,' he admonished himself, realising he had already killed his lover in his head when it hasn't been the case.
"Grandpa thought it would be better not to let you know about his condition because he wanted to protect you. He is in a very bad shape, but he is a fighter. He will survive."
"Thank you... thank you so much...," he repeated over and over again, not really knowing who he was thanking to.
What he knew was that he was thankful.
XXXXX
"Sir, you sure are persistent," the nurse said, evidently annoyed by Roy's stubbornness. They were walking down the hall to Ed's saloon after Roy nearly got there on his own. He convinced the doctor to let him wander around, to see if his subordinate was fine, or else he would probably grow mushrooms if he didn't move... Exasperated, the doctor allowed him to get where the hell he wanted – his exact words, mind you. Roy has been awake for about five hours and already everyone wanted him out.
"Perhaps, but persistence is what has gotten me here," Roy explained, feeling a little proud. The woman eyed him dubiously, and he added immediately, "Professionally, of course."
She nodded, opening her mouth and then closing it. His persistence got him very far indeed – free hospital bed and all.
"Are you the boy's family or something?" she asked, not knowing why he insisted to see him that much.
"Kind of... My subordinates are like a family to me," he replied, not sure if he should say the 'boy' was his partner in more than just the office. Not the best idea, really. Definitely not.
Roy entered the dark recuperation room. Something he could not see was beeping insistently, and a hospital bed with a small bundle of blankets on it enthroned in the middle of the room, heavily connected to the perfusion system. The bundle moved a bit and the raven haired alchemist hurried to take the flesh hand that stood limply on the bedside.
The nurse smiled at him and offered him a chair. "You can stay as long as you want, just try not to stay in anyone's way, alright, Sir? If you don't mind it, of course," she said, but she got no response. Roy's eyes were transfixed on Ed's badly injures body, full of stitches, cuts, bruises and burn marks. The nurse sighed and left the room.
Roy stared at Edward for hours, talking to him, apologising, telling him that he missed him, to get better. He knew the danger was gone, that no one was going to harm them, but the trauma remained. He was scared that he had been caught almost off-guard, he hadn't been prepared, how the hell had he been supposed to know that that psychopath connected the whole city to fake bombs that were the triggers of the real ones, under a deposit, to kill just one man on his birthday...
On that particular thought, where was his uncle? He hoped he was dead and perhaps pulverized, if possible. No, even better – nearly dead and being eaten by dogs! Wait, there were no strays on the streets of the capital... "Whatever," he suspired - he just wanted the man to be wiped out of the face of Earth.
Sighing, Roy moved his eyes back to his beloved. Yes, he realised that only then. Seeing Edward almost dead on a hospital bed made him see things very differently. The young man stood by his side when the situation wasn't tremendously pleasurable – when they were pretty much undesirable to the state, fighting ghosts and trying to prove the whole world they were fundamentally wrong about those who led them. He supported him when there had been ill-rumours regarding Mustang's situation during the confrontation that shook the entire Amestris and tried to make the better of them, then accepted to continue working with him even after he'd completed his goal. And he became some sort of family he's never had – the one he could go to after a long day of utterly boring paperwork and talk about nonsense. Just hang out with him in a bar in the middle of the night without complaining, simply listening to his problems and insights on mundane things. Edward became more important to Roy than he cared to admit.
Without realising, he started squeezing Ed's hand harder than he'd intended. He looked at his pale face with caring eyes – he would be alright. He had to, after all, Roy had just found the thing that kept him going through life and then he'd lose it just like that? It didn't work like that. Not to Roy, at least, it didn't.
He was staring so hard that he could no longer see. He could not focus his eyes and he was squeezing the barely warm hand even harder. He almost jumped when he heard a small hoarse voice talking to him. "D'ya really wanna break mah arm, bast'rd?"
Roy got his focus back, his black eyes sparkling with emotion. "Edward...?"
"If you'd only see your face." The blond tried to get up, feeling his voice return, but a horrible pain kept him down. "What the hell happened, Roy? Roy? Mustang!"
The black haired general shrugged. He's spaced out, too excited to see Ed conscious to actually listen to what he was saying. He scratched his head. "Well, you kind of... exploded?"
"No shit," Fullmetal replied. "Hey, how long have you been h-" he abruptly stopped and coughed hard. His lungs were hurting badly.
"Speak no more, you were badly injured and you had some internal haemorrhages or something. Damn, I wasn't really listening to the doctor, but I remember he said you were recovering pretty fast, and that's a good sign," Roy explained and stroked his pale cheek. Ed nodded and waited a bit to regain his breath. He eventually said with the look of a man with a mission, "You also look like shit, you know?"
Roy chuckled. "Give the man the opportunity to say something and that is what you get. Yeah, I know I look bad. But charming as always, right?" The blond alchemist forced his facial muscles to form a smile. The older man ruffled his hair gently and covered him better with the blanket. Slowly, the younger fell asleep. He was tired.
Thinking for a second, Roy called for the nurse and informed her that Ed was once again conscious and snoring soundly.
XXXXX
Three days before, at the explosion sight
Telford watched in shock how his plan was being ruined right in front of his eyes. His plan was indeed to kill Roy and, why not, that blondie-pet of his, but he was not supposed to bring the military with him! They were supposed to die there, from the explosion – not to harm him as well! Talking about bad plans and miscalculations.
Edward managed to trap him inside the building right before the bomb went off. River saw how the boy covered his nephew and saved him from the flames' rage, as well as he saw them covered in blood on the floor. They seemed to breathe - they were alive. He would have cut their necks if the reinforcements hadn't come, the other two soldiers must have called them. And that stupid man who shot him, curse him!
Hawkeye asked through the small radio that Havoc carried for some help from the other members of the Mustang crew, because the operation was supposed to be known only by those who could come in hand during the General's research. They frankly did not expect for the Fuhrer to come in person and check with the wounded officers. He ordered the doctors he brought to take them to the hospital in one of his private wings, and take care of them with great responsibility. Seeing his granddaughter's pained stare, her clothes caked in dried blood and cheeks stained with tears, he hugged her and took her to his car to talk.
Telford watched the scene with little interest, as he was too desperate to get out of the debris to care about those touching displays. It would be the end of him if the military found him. He struggled to get out and ran madly after he got to the street. He moved his legs faster than he thought he could, and then collapsed somewhere in the sewers. He fought to catch his breath and ripped off his clothing, improvising some makeshift bandages to stop the bleeding of his wounds.
He could not stay there forever, however - he had to move.
XXXXX
Roy was comfortably stretching his legs. He was still by Fullmetal's side and didn't leave it unless he really needed to. He felt bad as it was pretty much his fault, hell, they could have both died, but now it truly didn't matter. They were quite fine, with some nice forming scars all over their bodies, but alive.
The only problem at bay was the missing 'terrorist', or whatever he called himself. There were two possibilities – he was either dead, but with no corpse it was hard to determine that, or he was alive, and that sounded more plausible than he actually liked. Why did he have to be born in such a twisted family?
"What are you thinking about so hard?" Edward asked, voice less raw than before. The long hours of rest helped him greatly. The older man smiled at the boy and shook his head. "Nothing, really."
"It would've surprised me if you were thinking, indeed," the blond mocked him, chuckling under his breath. Roy looked at him with fake annoyance and then pocked his nose. "Watch it, Fullmetal."
"Whatever, old man."
Outside the door, a big ruckus erupted seemingly from nowhere, startling them both. Roy slowly got up to see what was causing all that noise. Not like he really needed to stand up, as the whole ordeal moved right in front of him, in the room.
"Please, madam, don't come in without permission!" the exasperated nurse said to the arguing woman. It was enough that Roy was walking around wherever he pleased, she didn't need more disturbance than that! It was a hospital, damn it, what those people didn't understand in that?
The intruder didn't deter and started shouting, threats coming out with such venom that made the nurse retreat a few steps. "Do you know who I am? This is a direct offence to-"
"You are as subtle as a train," Roy spoke amused and kindly asked the nurse to let them be. The poor doctors, they desperately wanted the pair out of the hospital as fast as physically possible.
"Mira, sweetheart, what brings you to our humble establishment? Oh, howdy, Miles, what a pleasure to see you too," Roy welcomed them like nothing has happened, like Ed was not connected to anything and himself didn't have a big patch on his neck, going much lower under his clothes.
They've looked worse than that, alright.
"Is that supposed to be a joke? I came for your birthday to celebrate it in a hospital? Who the hell does that? I didn't even have the time to beat the crap out of my brother at my family's mansion, you hear me? And you promised lots of drinks, where the fuck are those?" the blonde soldier made angrily, despite herself.
Looking clueless at the two commanding officers, Edward asked, "How come you are here, Major General? Weren't you up there, in the North?"
The woman turned her gaze for a few moments to watch those golden orbs and then returned to Roy, who was grinning from ear to ear. "As I was saying, why the hell do I get to know about this the last, when it was part of my assignment? We had a deal, remember, you bloody idiot?"
The raven haired man rose to his feet, his now dangerous aura towering over the blond soldier. Of course, Miles was unfazed and he took a more comfortable position on one of the chairs, crossing his legs and looking at some brochures on the nearby table. "As I also said, if your memory didn't falter in your old age, our deal was different," Roy argued and waved his hands in denial.
"Age my ass! It was not. And adding other parties? What the fuck were you thinking?"
"Unintentional."
"Olivier, this is unbecoming, let's try to be civilised," Miles unenthusiastically tried to stop the quarrel between Mustang and Armstrong. Like they could be stopped when they started their banters. They were arguing like they were alone, swearing like the pirates from the distant sea and almost jumping at each other's necks. They actually forgot why they were arguing, as at the moment, the 'discussion' was heated around how Roy destroyed the woman's clothes a few years after graduation, at a party.
"-like that fire ball suddenly erupted out of nowhere! I know it was you, you twat!" Olivier retorted. Roy didn't waste his time and responded, "My, and you so cared about that! You remember the man, don't you, sweet eyes?"
"Don't you dare, or do I have to remind you how you were taking it up the ass in the bushes with the same man?"
"I was not!"
"You fucking were, you shit, and then you've banged that blondie from the bar!"
"Really? I don't remember that either."
Edward looked confused at his partner and the raging soldier. Miles gave up on stopping them and looked like it wasn't the first time he experienced those two bickering over nothing and starting to say such outrageous things. He was simply looking into a medical brochure about the effects of different drugs.
He couldn't help but wonder what was going on.
After listening to Roy's remark, the woman exploded, "Like hell you don't, you son of a bitch, you know how I had to cover it to Maes, he was eating me up the arse, damn it!"
"Oh, shut up, Mira, you were so much better, should I remind you about the rent money and-"
"Don't you fucking dare continue that! We were in the very same shit, don't you even think better of yourself," Olivier averted. Roy snorted. "You put me into that shit, Mira, not me."
"Not my problem for you being such a whore!" she accused.
"Whore? What? I had to rub one off that idiot of yours because you've had a mouth too big for you! I was only helping your sorry ass, I think you missed the right person! I'm not the one who slept with my-"
"Like you don't do-"
"OH SHUT UP, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" Edward suddenly yelled, coughing hard. "Damn, for the past few months I've had to swear more than in my whole life because of idiots, especially you, Mustang! Get your fucking argue outside, with that banging and whatever the fuck you've done!"
Miles agreed. "Indeed. This isn't why we came here," he said calmly.
"Tsk, Mustang, it's all your fault," Olivier made, smacking her lips in discontent.
"We share the blame," Roy said and turned his eyes to Ed.
Armstrong shrugged and pulled a chair to sit next to Edward. "So, Elric, how's life?" Ed looked at her dumbly. "Huh?" She shook her head and cleaned her throat. Obviously, he didn't know about the excessive pleasure they got from screaming at each other. That was what friends were for, after all.
"Well, I managed to find out what happened, or at least most of it. Nasty thing, don't you think?"
"It was not planned," Roy argued. "I always tell you about these things."
She turned to look at Roy. "Of course not, Mustang, but there is no need to prolong this. So, straight to business – he is alive. My men caught a glimpse of him, but they lost him fast. Pretty wounded, I don't know if he survived though," the Major General explained and the raven alchemist nodded.
Miles perked up, feeling the need to intervene. "However, it seems the operation had to be more grandiose than it turned up to be. Even more than what you've told me you suspected. Apparently, he wanted to combine your alchemy with his to create an electromagnetic shield between you and the world. Pretty much like the atomic technology the government was talking about a few years ago, but with no regard of the physical laws. It appears he was the head of an organisation, but we took care of the details," he added and smiled at Edward. Though he didn't show it, the boy had no idea what they were talking about.
"I understand. I already spoke to Grumman, he will provide us with backup, all we need is to capture him. As you can see, I can-"
"No, you cannot, Roy. Neither you nor your subordinates. It's the North's problem, we've got you involved enough."
"Miles isn't under your command anymore, but I see him here, alright," Roy noted sagely.
"I've only borrowed him to the Eastern Command for Ishbal's reconstruction, so don't change the subject. Anyway, what would you do against a maniac in your state?" Olivier asked, her blue eyes full of concern.
"An injured maniac, who wanted to destroy everything because of me. It's extremely overrated, but that's the reality. It is my business as much as it is yours."
"And you can really do so much damage with a dislocated shoulder, Roy," Edward countered. "I doubt any of us can do anything. Let's leave it to the Major General, she knows what to do." It was plainly stupid to go against that guy, no matter whether he was injured or not, if you were in a rough state as well. Who knew, maybe the organisation Miles mentioned wasn't really wiped off or something. What if he's brought his gang with him? There were too many 'if's for his taste.
"We will see about that," Roy said simply. "Mira, may I talk to you in private for a moment?" She nodded and cast a quick glance at Miles. He nodded and returned to Edward.
"How do you feel, Fullmetal?" he asked, looking on the medical paper attached to the bed.
"Better, I guess. But, tell me Major, what are you two doing in Central? I thought you had work to do in Ishbal."
"The Major General requested some time off to spend with her family for the Winter Holidays."
"And you?"
"Likewise."
Ed watched his features. The dark coloured skin was looking surprisingly soft for a soldier, the sharp strings of facial hair neatly trimmed into their usual shape, his snow white hair combed and tied up in a tight ponytail. The man lowered his red eyes and lifted his sunblind goggles off the top of his head to clean the lenses with a small cloth he pulled out of his pocket. He wasn't wearing his uniform, nor was Armstrong.
He looked like someone who wanted to avoid answering a question. But there was no question yet, though there was no need for it. "I see...," Edward made, realising something he oversaw. Of course he'd noticed how close the Ishbalan and his commanding officer were, and now he knew what a 'secret relationship' felt like - he also was involved in one, or at least that's what he thought.
"I doubt it was the vacation you've expected," the blond jested, and the normally stiff soldier smiled. "From my experience so far, this was one of the most uneventful holiday up until now. You should have seen it when Roy was still in the East."
The boy lifted his golden eyebrows. "I truly don't want to know what happened."
XXXXX
"Winry! Where did you put the candles?" Alphonse shouted after his fiancée.
"Aren't they in the living room?"
"No!" A short pause. "Ah, never mind. Thanks, Den," the sandy blond man said as he took the red candles packet from the dog's mouth. He patted the loyal animal on its head. What a good boy.
Winry came with another big package in her arms. The Winter Holidays were coming and they needed to decorate the house. Pinako was loudly humming some old drunken songs and was baking a cake in the kitchen.
"Hey, hey, don't come in!" Al warned from the living room's door. "Not until I finish."
"Oh, please, I want to see what you've done! I'm so curious!"
"You can survive another few minutes. Let me finish what I have started and you can look around all you want."
"Fine," the girl pouted. Secret decorations were so much fun and a pain in the arse at the same time. She wanted to know what Al was doing in the living room. Trying to dismiss her curiosity, she asked, "Have you spoken to Ed? Is he coming home?"
"I don't know, I haven't talked to him. But he promised he'll come, so he'll come."
"Well, I'll call to check on him," she suggested and went for the living room's door. Al waved her hand away. "We have a phone in the study, too."
XXXXX
Kain Fuery was reading the transcript of an utterly boring conversation between two corrupted officials from a God forsaken country. He yawned a few times and decided the discussion made absolutely no sense and it definitely didn't pose any threats to Amestris' interests. Frustrated, he tossed the papers on the desk and looked at the now beeping panel in front of his eyes. Why was the General's office phone ringing?
Sighing, he connected the direct line to the hospital's room. Instructions were instructions - his job was to make sure the disastrous operation wasn't found by anyone. Almost anyone to be more precise, as he was the one who informed Major General Armstrong, at Hawkeye's orders. Roy didn't need to know about it.
At the hospital, Edward, who was chatting with Miles and was laughing at his stories, picked up the phone a bit surprised. "Yes?" Did they have a phone in the room? Whatever.
"Hey, Ed! How are you?" an excited female voice retorted. Winry? How did she know he was – wait, she didn't.
"Err... yeah, fine, thanks. You?"
"Great, decorating the place. Why haven't you called us? I haven't heard from you in such a long time!"
"Argh, work, you know. It takes a lot of time, sorry."
"Yeah, no problem. Are you coming to spend the holidays with us? Let me give your brother on the phone. Hear from ya!" Winry spoke fast and ran to Pinako, who was calling for her to finish assembling the cake she's left in the kitchen.
"Hello, brother," Al saluted. "How are you?"
'Really, how am I supposed to tell him that I am in a hospital?' Edward thought. Instead, he replied "Fine, as usual. Work and some extra work."
"Hah, the General's working you very hard. You should take a break, you always work."
"Neah, I'm fine."
"Well, I hope you haven't forgotten about the promise you've made! Winry has been pestering me for the past few hours, I'm trying to arrange the house like we used to when we were kids. Just how you love it. You'll come at the month's end, right?"
Who was he to lie to his brother, the one who had been stuck in a suit of armour because of him? He would never lie to him. "Of course," he said uneasily.
But he still lied. He knew very well it was impossible to recover from his injuries in less than two weeks to go home to celebrate some uninteresting holiday he wasn't even aware of its purpose. Nonetheless, it was strictly his business with Roy. He wasn't going to worry Al. He didn't deserve it. It was better to decline an invitation at the last moment than to make him worry. It was better to neglect a promise to his only remaining family to keep his perfect image safe.
It wasn't fair. Nothing was, lately.
"Great. Don't forget to call us from time to time, yes? We've been worried!"
"No need to be. I'll talk to you later, Al, bye!" Ed replied quickly and hung up, not wanting to hear his brother say goodbye. It was the first time he's ever lied to his brother.
Miles patted his shoulder and smiled like he understood what was going inside the alchemist's head. "You've made the right choice." With that, he left him alone with his thoughts. Yes, it was the best thing he could do, given the facts. The man, despite the darkness of his skin, could sometimes be as white as an angel.
XXXXX
Roy returned an hour later. Ed stood calmly on the bed, reading a book. His face clearly read 'guilty', but he didn't want to push things. He knew the blond had been alone for some time - Miles decided it was better to leave him with his own thoughts and he'd joined the other two officers instead. He knew he needed some time alone.
"Hello, sunshine," Roy said with a sly smile and kissed his forehead lovingly.
"Sunshine my ass. What were the Major and Armstrong doing here? You seemed quite... acquainted? Like really acquainted, what the hell have you been doing in your youth?"
"Why, are you jealous, Edward?" Mustang teased and poked his cheek. Ed waved his hand off and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. Actually, where was his hair tie? He needed one.
Roy fought the urge to jump on the man right on spot. He looked so fetching, with his red nose and lowered eyebrows. "As if, bastard. I don't care what you do with your life, but don't mix others."
'More lies,' Edward thought. He cared. He did. He shamefully got used to caring for Roy. It killed him from the inside that the man was hiding so many things from him and still wouldn't say them out loud. He felt betrayed. Roy knew everything about his past, and Ed didn't know a thing about Roy's. And he had no excuse to tell him that it was for his safety. If he knew about that psychopath, he would've come prepared. Hell, he wouldn't have let the situation get so out of hand.
"I need some explaining, Roy. Why can't I know what's happening? Everyone knows, even Armstrong who, by the way, how come you know her so well? What did you talk to her? What's North's problem? What is going on?" Ed nearly shouted. His speech went higher and higher in tonality. His face was beet red and his fists were clenched, making him look like an angry tomato. If the facts given were slightly different, Roy would have considered it cute and he might have laughed. But one shall not put cute and Fullmetal in the same sentence. It was not... natural, in lack of a better term.
Sighing, Roy took his former place and scratched his head dumbly. 'No point to say it doesn't concern him,' he thought. No such things as letting the matter go. "You see, Edward... The Major General and I are good friends from back when I was in the academy. She was my senior when I was a freshman and she helped me a great deal when my superiors were pushing me around. That's how we are related and don't worry, we merely enjoy pissing each other off."
Ed drummed his fingers on the mattress. He hated that he needed to stay in bed, it was so uncomfortable to have your movements restricted. "And the 'assignment'? You've been beating around the bush for too long, and I'm not some idiot who just sits and waits for the lover-boy to return home and doesn't ask questions."
Roy smirked deviously. "So I'm you lover now?"
"Off topic. Answer." Ed demanded impatiently. Roy sighed and patted the blond's shoulder.
Just in time, the doctor entered and smiled to Edward. "Time for your check up, Mister Elric."
XXXXX
Roy was spinning on a wheeled chair. How come he never did this? It was so much fun.
His dripping bag was taken off two days before, and he was due to be out of the hospital as soon as possible. It was his tenth day in the medical facility and he was in a better shape than before. Edward was recovering nice and steady, but he was still shaking on his feet. The wounds took their toll on his body, he ached everywhere and his abused skin looked more purplish than ever, but he was a fighter – he didn't die when he played with the Truth, he was not going to die from a few scratches. And some burn marks, and deep cuts, and a few broken ribs... but he was healing, at least.
Less to be said about his mental status. He felt like his body would attach itself to the ceiling or start crawling on the walls. It was so frustrating that Roy only told him that he knew the guy who attacked for some time. Ed suspected it was more than that and he vowed he would pull the information out from Roy. But not that day, nor the day after. Another time.
There would be another time for that.
Roy continued spinning. The centrifuge force was such a great discovery – he felt so lightheaded and relaxed. He still hurt - his own wounds were much lesser than Ed's, but there were no fair maiden's dream. They hurt like any other wounds.
He was currently thinking of a good way of telling Ed his life story and omitting some parts he preferred not talking about. The ordeal was taking too long, he could just spit it out and everyone would be happy.
No, no one would be happy. He would only worry Ed, or he would get some mockery for his stupid fears. Whatever it was, Armstrong's news weren't as exciting as he had hoped.
She told him fair and square – the state was no longer endangered by the freak, as the diplomats already made sure to declare Telford undesirable both in Drachma and Amestris, and all connection to him and any state were forcibly cut. The organisation that supported him was eradicated by the north agents, so he had no back up. That meant only one thing – it was his responsibility now. What the female General said in front of Edward was meant to only settle the boy down and not worry him further.
The only problem Roy had was with the reason why his uncle despised him so much. If he were to point at something he did, besides being born, that is, Roy couldn't possibly find anything. He was as pure and innocent as snow. A very dirty one, but still he did nothing wrong to the man, or so he believed. The memory of his parent's death was still very much alive within his mind and he made it his purpose to remind himself every day that they had been killed by their own kin.
He wondered how his father would have seen the situation. He'd injured Telford more than once, that's what Chris had told him, but would he have really killed his brother?
No. Telford wasn't his father's brother anymore. Or his uncle. He was a murderer.
But then, so was Roy.
XXXXX
Twenty-five years before
He rubbed his hands absently. They burnt, yet they were so cold. The blood was long washed, but its touch remained. Telford plopped on the pillows - he felt so exhausted.
No. He was so wrong. The blood was still there. It was in the water he used to wash himself, in his breath, in his hair, in his mind, in his soul. Foolishness. He looked at a small photo with its glass broken and he could see the two people he killed and their son. He kept that photo he received from the proud father when his little boy turned one. He just stared at it, not really looking at it. He wondered – why did he actually murder his brother and sister-in-law? What was his reason, come again?
Oh, that was it. Hate. So much hate.
He took a small envelope from the table. It was the letter which informed him he wasn't accepted in the National Alchemist Program. It was the letter that announced him about his failure. His ruination. He couldn't blame himself for his failure, he had done everything he could. His father's influence over the military was probably the reason why he had failed, and his brother was the sole reason for not making it too far. Telford got in the Academy, but he wasn't allowed to finish it properly, by entering the state's army.
Nonsense, he knew very well why he ended their lives. Cenric was the reason why he couldn't practice his alchemy. He was the reason why their father had been killed, because of his poor information. Not like he cared for their father that much, but he wanted to be seen as a human being, not some useless kid who had no place in the world. As for Amaya... well, she refused his love. He felt betrayed by her marriage. Yes, he had plenty of reasons.
But the boy? Roy, what did he do? Nothing. He was just a child, innocent and pure. Not like him, who was dirtied by his crimes.
But what has been done, has been done. And the child deserved it. He would turn exactly like them anyway. He was bound to. 'I really made him a service,' Telford thought and grinned.
He was a murderer, as they wanted him to be, his perfect brother and their father... He was what they've made him be.
But they weren't there to see him.
XXXXX
"Sir, tomorrow you will be allowed to leave the facility," the doctor said as he finished his consultation on Roy. He grew accustomed to the officer's strange demeanour around his subordinate and actually understood him. Without his assistants, he wouldn't be able to work properly. Of course, he smelled something fishy about their closeness, but maybe they had been through many things together. In a way, he felt sorry that the man had to leave so soon. His company has been indeed refreshing, having to constantly chase him around the hospital and sedate him to settle down for a moment. It had been endearing, somewhat.
Roy nodded and replied, "Thank you for your hard work, Doctor. I shall see to my leave."
The doctor smiled and appraised him once again for his fast recovery, then left the room. The Flame lay back on the hospital's standard bed and mused to himself. He's sort of enjoyed his stay. He didn't have to work as much as usual – mind it, Hawkeye still supplied him with his precious paperwork, but a huge amount less than what he was used to do - and he had great conditions without wasting a cenz. 'I'm such a freeloader, Aunt would be proud of me if she knew about this,' he thought and grinned.
He heard someone knocking on the door of his saloon. He looked at it like it was something vile. 'What do they want now?' He stood up to open the door. In front of him, a short, military clad man with white whiskers smiled beamingly.
"Why, hello, dear Roy!" Grumman saluted and handed Roy a small pink horse. "So you won't get bored," the elder explained grinning wider. "I see you are looking better and better, my boy!"
"Err, yes? Well, thank you, Sir." Roy looked incredulously at the plush. He was so past the age of getting stuffed animals, but it was a gift from the Fuhrer himself, right? He should be proud - the 'heart' of the nation brought him a token of his appreciation! Mustang threw a quick glance at the smiling Grandpa who was ruling one of the most powerful nations and shook his head. 'Senile Crook,' he thought amused.
Grumman sat on the only available chair. He entwined his fingers and his eyes started to shine dangerously. He meant business.
Not really feeling too comfortable in the hospital gown, Roy paced to his bed and jumped on the mattress. That bed was a bit too tall even for him, who wasn't exactly that short, certainly not like- 'No, no, work now, fun later,' he reminded himself and turned his gaze to the Fuhrer.
"So, Roy, I am glad to see you back in shape," Grumman repeated his previous statement. He poked at his glasses and leaned forward. "Are you up for more?"
Of course. Why would the man care that much for his health without any hidden interests?
"Always," Roy nodded and crossed his arms.
"Perfect. I am terribly sorry to have to send you straight into action after everything that's happened, but I truly don't like how things have turned out. I don't accuse you of anything, Gods forbid, but I think things are looking up. You might get some nice points if you finish what you have started. Amiably."
"I see... But don't tell me, Your Excellency, are you planning to retire? So full of life and already eager to let it all go?" The alchemist showed a small smile and rubbed his head, trying to look careless.
"Neah, not yet, and cut this 'Your Excellency' foolishness! But Roy, you need to make people like you more, to see you acting for their good. It's high time you made some better impression around here. You've earned points with Ishbal and with Xing, alright. However, before you start dreaming of wearing some more stars, we have some other more urgent matters at hand," the old man straightened his back and suddenly chuckled. "I didn't believe that I would get to see the day when my best General plays with a pink plush." Roy abruptly threw the animal aside. "You were saying... Sir?" he offered, feeling sheepish for playing with the toy.
"Yes, yes, no need for rash actions. As I was saying, it seems to me that we have lost our old friend."
"Indeed, and I am deeply sorry. I believe that we'll catch him in no time and we shall send his to justice and-"
"Dispose of him, Roy," Grumman put it simply.
"Excuse me?"
"You've heard that right. I have already prepared the needed papers to legally state that you've defended yourself, so that would make you a hero no matter whether you are the one to finish the job or not."
"I don't think I need to be made a hero because of that."
"You already are, after all that's happened. And saving the country for the third time is even better."
"What I did was not saving the country," Roy said firmly and rose to his feet. "I killed many to reach my status, and I don't want to be appraised for murdering my own uncle, out of all the people."
"Killing, Roy, not murdering," Grumman said and looked in Roy's eyes. "Well, whatever you choose to do, I need him out of the scenery. He is a nuisance and started to stand in your way, and I cannot tolerate that."
"Of course," Mustang nodded with a stern expression. The foxy Grandpa softened and put his arm on his protégé's shoulder. "So, Roy, tell me, how's our little Fullmetal?"
'Not you too, please.' Roy wanted to bash his head in a wall. Why was everyone sniffing around his own business? And why was always a discussion about killing his uncle finishing with how was Edward? Where was common sense going those days?
"I believe he is well."
Grumman smirked and lifted his snowy eyebrows up on his wrinkled forehead. "Is that so?"
"Yes." Roy gritted his teeth.
"Fine, fine, boy, don't roast me yet! But I'm happy to see you finally stop at someone, it was about time! I remember I was the same when I encountered my dear Lysa, oh, such a good, fine lady..."
Bash his head in a wall? No, what Roy really wanted was to strangle someone. How the hell did this man, this old and nice man knew about his affair? What was his problem, anyway?
"I seem not to understand what you are implying, Sir."
"Well, I could tell you what you are supposed to imply, but I am sure you're not so new into-"
"Oh, please!" Roy made disgusted. Another one to tell him how to fuck his subordinate and he would shoot himself, he promised! At least, this wasn't as bad as his aunt, when she started telling him that she thinks that sex between men might be better than the normal one. Because that was all that was in her mind, not that her nephew was shagging his much younger subordinate, no. That was redundant.
"Fine, fine, Roy. But take care. I want to see you in this long uniform, not headless. Though I'm sure you can handle everything quite well. Good luck, my boy. And, most importantly now, I can't wait to hear about our friend, River. Take care of yourself." Grumman waved his hand goodbye and left the room with a wink.
'Argh! What's everyone's problem! The old crook should take some bodyguards, maybe they'll lock him somewhere and let me be! Sheesh!' He looked at the pink stuffed horse who was blindly staring at him with its black, round plastic eyes. "Not you too, freaking horse!" he made exasperated and plopped backwards on the bed. He looked back at the horse and took it into his arms and stroked the bubble-gum pink hair. A small sticker glued itself to his fingers. "Naturally," he whispered and smiled.
What a tasteless man.
XXXXX
Edward looked around the room. He didn't really understand why he had to stay in Roy's former reserve and not in his previous one. It was something with him not needing to reside at intensive care any longer - he didn't listen to the doctor. He looked at the bags of nutriments that were still by his side. 'Why am I still being fed with needles?' He suddenly started coughing badly, and his whole body tensed up in pain. 'Ah, yes. That's why.'
That morning, Roy left the hospital, much to his chagrin. He had to return to work, boring, oh boring work, back to paying taxes and buying food. Not like Ed minded, no, it was better without the annoying raven haired officer, who was only pestering him and cuddling him and asking him how he felt... bullocks, he enjoyed the other's company quite well. Now, staying in Roy's former room didn't help to his cause.
He could always blame it on boredom.
The blond turned slightly on the bed. It was comfortable enough and it smelled very good. Fresh beddings, unlike how it was in other hospitals. But it smelled faintly of that bastard, that enticing smell of fresh cologne and ash. He hugged his pillow and sniffed it. He insisted to keep the same pillow as the General. It smelled so good... It smelled like home.
Home... He wondered what Roy was doing. He should be resting at home, perhaps eating, given the hour. Drinking a small glass of high quality whiskey and watching the fireplace. Reading a good book and listening to fancy music.
Home...
He wanted home. Where Roy was.
Home...
"SHIT!" he cursed. 'My brother! How am I going to explain that I'll miss this holiday too? Fuck!'
He punched the pillow vengefully. "Damn it, Roy!"
XXXXX
Two days after leaving the hospital, Roy returned to work. He had so much work he practically swam in a lake of papers, and things weren't looking up for him.
He visited Edward daily at the hospital and learnt that the boy should be out in a few days. Though he wouldn't be returning to his extremely exciting job anytime soon, as he was still weak after the hard medication he has been put on.
Roy smiled a little inside. He couldn't wait for that moment, when he'd finally be able to hold his blond hot head and... well, do whatever they weren't allowed by morals to do in a hospital. Not like any of them cared about morals, but some decency hasn't kill anyone.
"Sir? Sign here as well," Hawkeye demanded.
"Yes, Lieutenant."
XXXXX
Roy paced around in his house enthusiastically. He lifted the gramophone's needle and closed the lid over the disk he has been playing like a maniac for the past few days. It was his gift from Ed, and he loved it with all his being. The songs were beautiful, so sad yet so upraising, giving him the impression he wasn't alone at all.
He closed his overcoat and left his home. He intended to visit Ed at the hospital that night. He only wanted to spend the night with him, just lay in each other's arms with little care of the world. They deserved that, after the mess they've been through. The doctor kindly allowed him to come anytime, as long he didn't stand in his way.
He bought some pricey chocolate and a bottle of champagne and headed straight to the medical facility. It was the boy's last day in the hospital and that called for some celebration. He wondered if Ed was allowed to drink... If he was not, Roy was not going to waste that bottle, no. He could very well drink it all by himself, leave it to him, but he could use some company.
He opened the hospital's entrance and smiled to the receptionist. "Why, good evening, Mister Mustang!" Roy nodded his salute and jumped the stairs to Edward's private room.
XXXXX
An hour before
Edward turned the page of his book and yawned, exhaustion catching up with him. It wasn't pleasurable to be on medication and bed ridden, he felt so helpless and useless.
He felt a bit like Mustang on rainy days, he mused.
He brushed the bangs off his face and reached for the phone on the nightstand. He should announce Al he wouldn't be able to come home in Resembool that year. Again. Guilt crept up on him, but he couldn't make his brother worry. He dialled the number he knew by heart and gulped.
"Rockbell Automail."
"Hello, brother," Ed said strangled.
"Oh, big brother! Didn't hear from you in a while! How are you? When are you coming, we're waiting for you!"
Ed held his breath. "About that, Al... you know I truly wanted to come over, but I simply can't. You see, work-"
"Yes, brother, I understand. You have work. We all understand. But please try to call us more often, we sometimes think you might've died in who knows what mission," Al replied, not letting his hurt get to his sibling. "We worry for you. I worry for you, Edward, but I understand you've got your job."
Ed swallowed hard. His brother never called him by his given name, it sounded foreign to his ears. "Thank you so much, Al. I'll make it up to you soon. As soon as I can take some days off, I'm at your door. That's a promise," the alchemist added hopefully.
"Alright. Work hard, and hear from you soon, okay?"
"Deal," Edward retorted and hung up. He pressed himself on the hard therapeutic mattress and buried his face behind his hands.
'I lied to him again...'
XXXXX
Telford looked around in the hospital, walking fast. Reserve forty-five, third floor, Fuhrer's parlour. He expertly got past the few guards that were securing the section. It was so easy to outsmart them, especially when the human body was so easy to snap or stab... He soundlessly opened the double doors and entered the private quarters. He chose the forth room on the left. He opened the final door and got inside.
He grinned. "Why, hello, dear! Sorry for the wait."
XXXXX
Five minutes later
It smelled of blood. Fresh blood. It was horribly cold, a big window was opened on the third floor. Roy left the small gifts fall from his hands and walked faster. He heard the bottle break in tiny pieces, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He opened the double doors that separated the private section from the rest of the hospital. There, at the end of the corridor, three guards were laying in a crimson pool, lifeless on the sterile floor. Roy started running. Something shinny erected from the guards' stained chests. He blindly snapped his fingers, melting everything that was made out of iced water.
That was plainly stupid. Everything was so expected, it literally hurt. So disgustingly predictable.
"Damn you!" he cursed and forcefully opened the final door.
XXXXX
Less than two minutes before
Edward woke up startled. His breathing was haggard, like his lungs weren't able to hold the air he was desperately trying to assimilate. He felt dizzy, and something was restraining him. He heard someone talking, but he couldn't distinguish the words over the sound of blood rushing to his head. A firm grip on his neck prevented him from moving around, and it was tightening steadily.
He opened his eyes and couldn't see anything. He was buried under the thick blankets, the heat making him nauseous. The extra layers were forcefully removed and the cold air froze him. There was little surprise for the blond, but his assailant was rather taken aback.
"What luck, I'll be damned."
But then his vision blurred and it all started to hurt.
A/N: That's for now, folks. Please, don't forget to review, follow and favourite or whatever it can be done (are there any other options?) Thaaaaank you so much for your support, and special thanks to all of you who took their time to read, review, follow, favourite or, again, whatever.
Hope you enjoyed. Bye, bye!