Disclaimer: L.Q does not own Fullmetal Alchemist.
Edward stared at Roy, and Roy stared back. The bowl of stew sat innocently between them, and Roy knew that both of them were thinking the same thing.
How the hell was Edward supposed to eat?!
It hit Roy right then and there that this was probably going to be the least of his problems. Edward couldn't do a single thing for himself anymore. Heck, in this state he wouldn't be able to change his clothes, brush his teeth, or even bathe himself . . .
There was no way Roy could do this.
Not that he didn't think he was capable of doing these things for Edward – he was a very capable man after all, and not at all useless – but he didn't think that Edward would be able to tolerate it. Even though they were both male, they weren't close at all, Edward hated him, and Roy was his superior officer. What would anyone have to say about that?
"I'm not hungry." Edward broke the silence between them and jerked Roy out of his thoughts. "You can just take me to my room. By tomorrow my mobility will probably be back."
Roy would've been lying if he said he didn't want to take Edward up on that offer. But the truth was that he would just have to man up and take care of Edward – even if it would be uncomfortable and awkward for both of them.
"I'm not going to take you to your room Edward," Roy said pleasantly, "I'm going to feed you some stew. It's your favourite, right?"
The look Edward gave him would've been priceless in any other situation – the teen looked like he wanted to disappear – but right now Roy only felt sympathy. Not that Edward wanted any; he had made that quite clear in the past.
"I'm not hungry," Edward repeated. "I'm serious Roy; I don't want to eat!" Edward's tone took on a desperate edge as Roy stood up and walked around to Ed's side of the table.
"Everyone needs to eat," Roy said simply. He steeled himself before plopping down in a seat next to his wheelchair bound charge. He placed the bowl of stew on his lap and scooped up a spoonful. Edward's face was as red as a tomato and he wouldn't look Roy in the eye.
"You don't have to do this." Edward's lips barely moved and his face was turned to the side, as if he was afraid Roy would try to just shove the spoon into his mouth if he gave him the opportunity.
"You don't have to do this," Roy said back. "Please, just work with me here Edward."
"How can I?!" Edward turned his face back to Roy and fixed him with a fiery glare. "How can I look you in the eye while you feed me like baby?"
"You don't have to look me in the eye."
Roy quickly placed the stew back on the table and got up to circle around Edward. The boy tried to follow his movements, but once Roy was behind him there was nothing he could do. He grabbed the handles of Ed's wheelchair and pushed him into the living room.
"What are you doing?"
"Just trust me."
Roy parked Ed beside the couch and circled around to the front of him. He undid the straps holding Edward in place and picked him up.
"Urgh, put me down, Mustang! I'm not some doll you can just tote around whenever you feel like it!"
Roy ignored Edward as he sat him on the couch, and then went back to the kitchen. Edward was slowly but surely tipping over by the time Roy came back with the bowl of stew in his hand, and Roy quickly sat down beside Edward so that the child leaned on him. He slung an arm over the back of the couch so that Edward would be more comfortable against his side and balanced the stew on his lap.
"There. This is much more comfy, isn't it?"
"If I had the use of even just one fist, you would be in a world of pain right now."
"I know."
Roy scooped up a spoonful of stew and brought it to Ed's lips as casually as he could. He waited one, three, five seconds, before Edward opened his mouth and – grudgingly – accepted the food.
Victory! He was a little bit surprised that Ed had given in so easily, but he was willing not to question it for the sake of getting this over with as quickly as possible.
Neither of them said anything else as Roy continued to feed Edward. Roy found himself watching the boy as he ate. Edward didn't look at him but stared straight ahead, so Roy was able to discreetly watch for the swallow that indicated Ed was ready for another bite. The whole process went rather smoothly, in Roy's opinion, and soon enough he was scraping the bowl to get the last of the stew.
Roy leaned forward slightly and set the bowl on the coffee table once it was empty. He leaned back and let his head fall back against the couch, filled with the kind of contentment one gets after accomplishing something.
Roy would've been happy to sit in silence for a long while, but he was sure that Ed felt extremely uncomfortable right now. In his situation, who wouldn't? Something was also bothering Edward, and Roy would have to communicate with him if he wanted to find out what it was.
But first he would have to gain Ed's trust.
"Edward, Dr. Westwood thinks that your current condition might be permanent," Roy said bluntly. He knew his subordinate wasn't very good at reading between the lines, and it would be cruel to dance around the topic with him now.
"What?!" The expression on Ed's face was something akin to horror.
Roy hurried to pacify his charge. "A cure is being worked on, and I can say with complete confidence that you won't be in this condition for long."
In the back of his mind, Roy wondered how long he would be able to keep spinning this web of lies before he got caught in them. Ed didn't look reassured though, and let his head fall to stare blankly down at his lap.
"I'm not going to lie; the next few days will probably be tough for the both of us." Roy scooted a little bit away from Edward so that he had room to turn his body and look at the teen head on. "But I promise that you are safe with me, and that I will take care of you to the best of my abilities."
Edward lifted his head and stared at Roy with searching eyes. Roy bravely held his gaze, trying to convey his sincerity in the wordless exchange.
Apparently Ed found what he was looking for, for he let out a humorous laugh and seemed to relax. "I guess I'm in trouble then," he said, "because the last time I checked, you were pretty useless."
Roy reached out and ruffled Ed's hair. "You'll be eating your words soon enough, Ed."
After much awkwardness and red colouring of faces, Edward lay alone in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling. The covers were pulled up to right below his chin and his arms lay straight by his sides.
How he was possibly expected to be able to fall asleep like this, Ed didn't know.
Reflecting on his current situation, he had to admit that he was in quite a horrible bind indeed. Truth must really hate him. To be stripped of all independency and reduced to this was quite frankly, humiliating.
But Mustang was taking it surprisingly well.
He hadn't left Ed to rot in some sort of long-term care facility, and had accepted the burden that was Ed with open arms. He certainly hadn't been neglected (so far) and Roy hadn't said a single thing to put him down.
As much as Edward wanted to think that Roy was simply doing all of this because some long slumbering amount of goodwill had suddenly awakened within him, Ed had a feeling that there was something more.
Of course he knew from the beginning that something wasn't adding up, but now more than ever he felt that he was being left out of the loop. There was more to his condition than a simple concussion. Mustang knew it, Hughes knew it, and Dr. Westwood knew it. Heck, maybe even Al knew it!
Edward knew that he should be demanding answers. He should be screaming and throwing a fit and beating the information out of them, but he was just taking everything lying down.
Why was that?
Ah, he knew. It was the part of his crazy mind that longed for attention and fantasized about family that was to blame. It was the part that spread warmth throughout his body at inappropriate moments and confused him to no end that made him feel like he could . . . trust Roy.
Ed couldn't kid himself anymore; he had no idea why he was feeling like this and he didn't know what to do to make these feelings go away. When he went against them and tried to deny Roy the only thing he felt was pain, but a love and happiness like no other consumed him whenever he abandoned all caution and gave in to what was struggling to burst in his mind.
Clearly, he couldn't fight anymore.
Not that he was giving up, oh no, he was nothing if not a fighter; he was just . . . biding his time. He wouldn't have a chance of surviving the coming days if he was fighting a war within himself.
Nothing more would happen if he just gave in to it now. Roy said he would be safe with him, after all. No one would strike him if he let his guard down, right?
Right.
Edward sighed and made to turn over, but only his head followed through with the action. Clearly this was going to be a long night.
"No."
"It's not going to kill you –"
"Please no."
Roy stopped to consider. Things had been going pretty slow at work, with the exception of Edward's case, so surely it wouldn't hurt if he were to work on his paperwork from home. Being considerate of Ed's feelings and sparing him the embarrassment of being dragged around headquarters would be a really nice thing to do . . .
And doing nice things earned trust points!
Not to say that he wouldn't have done it otherwise, but it helped to have extra motivation.
"I'll give the Lieutenant a call and see if she can deliver my paperwork here for today."
Edward gave a sigh of relief as Roy struggled to pull a shirt over his head.
"Thanks, Colonel."
Ed's voice came out muffled, but it only reassured Roy that he was not smothering his subordinate with the article of clothing. Once he got Ed's shirt straightened out, he opened Ed's drawers and regarded the teen's leather pants in dismay.
"Don't you have any other outfits?"
Edward seemed to know what he was thinking, for he said, "Any and all loose, comfy clothes are back in Resembool; that's the only place where I laze around."
"Right." Roy straightened up and regarded the teen he had left sprawled out on the bed. "We're going to have to go clothes shopping then." Roy couldn't resist. "It shouldn't be too hard; all we have to do is pick up the smallest size."
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE COULD GET SWALLOWED UP BY THE TINIEST BIT OF FABRIC?!"
"I never said that, Edward."
"Tch. Just shut up."
Roy reached behind him and grabbed Edward's pants. "I don't even know how you can move in these," he muttered as he grabbed Edward's foot and navigated it through a pants leg.
"I don't even know how you can breathe in that military crap you always wear."
"It's called a uniform."
Roy found that when they held conversations they forgot their awkwardness and Ed didn't seem as embarrassed about whatever Roy was helping him with. He was certainly being more agreeable than he had been last night.
"A monkey suit is what it's called!"
Roy finally pulled Edward's pants up all the way, and then button and zipped it. There was only one last thing to do. He turned around and snatched a hairbrush and hair tie from the top of the dresser, and then walked back to Edward.
He pulled the teen into a sitting position and sat down behind him. Edward tipped backwards and leaned against him, but he was still short enough that Roy would be able to work with his hair properly.
Roy ran the brush through Ed's golden locks. It was interesting for such a masculine person like Edward to have such beautiful hair. Soon, the brush glided easily through the hair, and Roy realized something fairly important.
"I don't know how to braid hair."
Edward shook his head slightly. "It doesn't matter. I sometimes put my hair in a ponytail."
"Okay."
Roy didn't know how to do a ponytail either. And he didn't want to admit that he had pretty much zero experience in dealing with long hair. All the ladies he took out on dates were able to do their own hair!
Five minutes later Roy had completed a messy ponytail and Ed was shaking with laughter. It was the most movement Roy had seen Ed do while paralyzed.
"I would've just told you to leave it if I knew you would have so much trouble!" the boy chuckled.
Roy got up and let Edward fall backwards onto the bed, still laughing. Normally he would've been angry, but he had to let Ed get his kicks in somehow.
"How about this?"
Roy parted the clothes on the rack and picked up a red t-shirt.
Edward barely looked at it before saying, "That's fine." He didn't need to study it; if it was red, it was perfectly fine.
Edward stared up at the ceiling and tried to ignore the eyes that were on him. This was his first time out in public (on purpose) while paralyzed, and he had to say that he didn't like all the attention he was getting.
If they had been looking at him with awe he wouldn't have minded one bit. In fact, he would have welcomed such attention. But now people were staring at him with pity and curiosity in their eyes, and it was making him feel highly self conscious.
Roy was now looking between light grey sweatpants and black ones. "Which colour do you prefer Ed?"
"I really don't care. Just hurry up and get whatever."
Ed wasn't very picky about clothes, and Roy seemed to realize that after a while, for he stopped asking for Ed's opinion on every single item and grabbed things off the rack.
"Why are you looking at that, Roy? We're just getting comfy clothes."
Roy looked up from a selection of jeans. "Not anymore, Edward. I've decided that your wardrobe could use a complete makeover."
"What's wrong with what I have?"
"It's time for you to change your style."
"My style is amazing!"
Roy held up his hands in surrender. "I'm not saying that it's not, Ed." He turned back to the jeans and started sorting through the pile. "I just think that in your condition . . . you might feel more comfortable wearing something that's not so recognizable."
Wow. Roy had really thought ahead. Yeah, Ed was embarrassed about people looking at him strapped in a wheelchair, but it would be worse if they knew they were looking at the Fullmetal Alchemist strapped in a wheelchair.
"With these clothes, you'll look just like a normal teenage boy. There's nothing we can do about your height though."
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SHORTER THAN YOUR DREAM MINISKIRT?!"
All around the store heads turned and Ed could tell that Roy was holding back a smirk as he wheeled him away.
Edward had enough clothes to last him the rest of his life. T-shirts, shirts, jeans, cargo pants, sweatpants, slacks, shorts and tank tops, socks, boxers, sweaters, gloves, and even a new black jacket dominated his bed.
He really hoped that Roy hadn't paid for it all with his research budget. But he hoped even more that Roy hadn't used his own money.
"How did you pay for all of this?" he asked from his spot against the wall.
"Don't worry about it," Roy said.
Crap. He had used his own money! Now he was in debt to the colonel. Edward Elric was in debt due to clothes. For clothes he wouldn't even be able to take with him once he was fit for travel again.
The world was a cruel, cruel place.
"I'll pay you back."
Roy looked up from the price tag he was removing. "I said don't worry about it! It was nothing. The military pays me handsomely; I only used a little on you."
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A TINY LITTLE PIPSQUEAK?!"
Roy sighed and went back to snipping off price tags. "No one, Ed."
Roy finished putting away the last of the clothes just as the doorbell rang. He was halfway out the door before he remembered that Edward couldn't follow.
"Will you be fine there?"
Edward gave him a what-do-you-think look from his position on the floor against the wall. "Go ahead and see who it is; it's not like I'm going anywhere."
Roy hurried down the stairs and opened the door to find Hawkeye holding a large cardboard box. "Good afternoon, sir." She hefted the box in her arms slightly, "I've brought you your paperwork."
"Thank-you, Lieutenant." Roy took the box from her and resisted the urge to put it down immediately; it was quite heavy.
Hawkeye turned slightly to leave, but seemed hesitant to do so. She stood on Roy's doorstep for a second longer, and then seemed to make her decision. She moved closer to Roy and asked in a low voice, "How is Edward doing?"
Roy stepped to the side. "Would you like to come in and see for yourself?"
"I must decline, sir." Hawkeye said, shaking her head. "When I'm not at the office, nothing gets done."
"I see. Well, Edward's been doing as well as can be expected for someone in his condition."
Roy then realized that this didn't actually answer Hawkeye's question, but she seemed to get it. She nodded and turned to leave. "Make sure to complete your paperwork on time sir, and I hope to be seeing you at work soon."
Roy gave a curt nod. "Will do, Lieutenant."
After seeing Hawkeye off Roy brought his paperwork to the living room and then returned to Edward's room. He found Edward – surprise surprise – just the way he had left him.
"Who was it?" Ed asked.
"It was just the Lieutenant. She came by to drop off my paperwork."
"Oh. That must bring you absolute joy." Ed snickered.
Roy bent down to pick up Edward and carried him back down the stairs. "Oh yes, it's absolute joy for the both of us."
"What do you mean by that?!"
Roy reached the living room and placed Edward down on the couch. "You have the honour of watching me do paperwork."
"Can't I just read instead?"
Roy could practically see Edward give himself a mental face palm at the suggestion. The options of things a paralyzed person could do to entertain themselves seemed to be very little, and reading a book was not on the list. But Edward was a child prodigy, a genius. Surely he wouldn't let this hold him back.
"Once you think of something, tell me and I'll build it for you," Roy said as he settled down on the opposite couch and pulled his paperwork onto his lap.
Fifteen minutes later an advanced alchemy book was resting on a stand and Ed was turning the pages with a transmuted stick-like thing he held in his mouth.
Peace and quiet reigned in the living room, and Roy actually used his time wisely until –
"I can't write any notes!" Edward complained, and the stick fell out of his mouth and onto the floor. The pages of his book turned rapidly now that they were no longer being held down and his page was lost. "Aw, dammit."
"You're reading for leisure Edward, you don't need to take notes. Just commit it to memory if you have to." Roy went back to his paperwork.
Edward's annoyed voice cut through his concentration. "Aren't you forgetting something?!"
Roy sighed and got up to fix Edward's mess.
L.Q: Well, this super late chapter was a little bit pointless.
Lest: Yup, just a little bit.
L.Q: All I can say is that I'm sorry. Super sorry. Extremely sorry. I didn't mean for this to be so late.
Lest: It's okay; just write the next chapter quickly.
L.Q: I'll do my best! Thanks for all the lovely reviews, by the way.