Ch 17: Heat Stroke

Rated T for language, illness, and a little dirty humor

Characters: Edward, OC, Roy

Timeline: general

Notes: at first, I thought that the illness in this chapter would be self imposed on Ed's part, but I was like, nah I already did that a few times…I should have it be the cause of someone else. But who? I can't make anyone I like seem unlikable…bc even if Roy is the type I think would push his soldiers to their limits, he would never let them actually be in danger. If he noticed something was wrong, he'd get help…so I had to make someone up for that role. But don't worry…papa Roy still gets a chance to come out hehehe

Edward was generally not the type of person to ask for leniency. He would much rather push himself through any tough situation and face the consequences later than abandon his task. It felt like weakness to him, like giving up…but he had come to learn that there were some situations (on very rare occasions) that he couldn't just push through with willpower alone. He didn't like those situations but he had come to accept them, because in the end, no matter how strong his spirit was, his body was still human and humans had limitations. He believed in testing those limits, but Lieutenant-Colonel Macon was really starting to strain that mindset.

A recent earthquake had called out the three best teams from Eastern Command to organize rescue, cleanup, and restoration efforts in a suburb of the city. That included the teams of Lieutenant-Colonel Macon, Lieutenant-Colonel Jansen, and… Colonel Mustang. Contrary to Ed's expectations, they weren't working in their established groups; they were mixed and matched based on what the superiors felt each soldier would be best at. As a result, Edward was working with a mish-mash of people from all three teams in the "restoration" part of the operation. Mustang said it would be good to have an alchemist (especially a mineral specialist) on the restoration team to offer guidance, and as much as it pained him to admit it, Ed agreed. The only other person from Roy's team in the restoration effort was Breda, whose natural skill for strategizing also fit best; the other half dozen on their team were practically strangers, and their leader was Lieutenant-Colonel Macon.

All had been going relatively well for the first half of the day. A few trapped survivors had been rescued, a lot of rubble had been moved, and repairs had been made. Edward was a little grumpy taking orders from a man he didn't know( which was contradictory because he didn't like taking orders from Roy because he did know the man) but he generally liked working in relief efforts. He just had to put aside his ego long enough to realize it felt kind of nice to help a community like this.

Now, it was late afternoon, and being the middle of summer, the sun was still pretty high in the sky. They were closer to the desert part of the East than the mountainous part (like Resembool), and it had been steadily getting hotter and hotter. During lunch, Ed had downed almost three whole canteens of water, but he still felt dehydrated. Resembool got hot during the summer, but this dry heat was a lot more oppressive. The cloudless sky didn't help, as the sun's rays were beating down on them without reprieve. Add into that all the asphalt around them soaking up and radiating out that solar heat, and it was getting almost unbearable. Every single person in their troupe was soaked in sweat, and they still had a heck of a lot of work to do. Macon just continued barking out orders, but at the very least, they were all miserably hot together.

But then, Ed began to feel a little off. He knew he was really hot, but he'd never quite felt like this before. He felt all off-kilter, and had to take a moment every once in a while to get his bearings again. He had shed his two jackets several hours earlier (because while he was a glutton for punishment sometimes in the name of fashion, he wasn't stupid), but now he was really wishing he had something other than leather pants to wear—even if that meant exposing his automail leg.

Ed swiped his sweaty bangs behind his ears, wishing it was long enough to tie back with the rest of his hair. What was he doing? Right. Repairing cracks in the road. He clapped his hands together, feeling the heat of his automail even through his glove. He'd put the glove over the metal a couple hours ago after he burned himself doing a transmutation. That act protected his hand well enough, but the same couldn't be said for his shoulder; if he had a screwdriver handy, he'd be removing the impermanent outer layer of his port in a heartbeat. At the very least, there was a tiny bit of space between the metal and his skin, but if he turned or raised his arms high enough, the two would make contact. He'd already burned his shoulder a dozen times just by turning his body, and was now trying to be extra careful with how he moved. He knew the biggest issue was the direct sunlight on the port, because while his leg was hot where flesh met metal, it was also covered by fabric, keeping it from the sun's direct rays. However, he wasn't going to put his jacket back on, because even if it solved his automail problem, it would make him overheat even worse. Most of the men had already stripped their shirts entirely (a little unprofessional for the military, but nobody was going to complain in this case). All Ed could do was just keep drinking water and get his work done as fast as possible.

"Fullmetal!" Macon barked. "Quit dilly-dallying!"

Edward startled, realizing he still had his hands pressed together for alchemy. How long had he been standing there? Why couldn't he focus? He shook his head; he hadn't even started an alchemic reaction, because he apparently hadn't even been thinking of any formulas when he made his circle. He never did that. Refocusing his thoughts, he clapped again, this time successfully preparing a transmutation. He touched the asphalt, sealing off cracks and simultaneously leveling the street. It took longer than usual to complete, and he was left feeling almost mentally foggy. What was wrong with him? He probably just needed more water…

Edward walked over to their supply vehicle, refilling his canteen from the barrel of water inside. It was still nice and cold, having had a block of ice put inside before they left, and felt wonderful going down his throat.

"Taking another water break, Elric?" Macon's voice growled from behind Ed. "How would you feel if I told Mustang how lazy you're being?"

Ed scowled, annoyed. "Not lazy. Just hot."

"Oh yeah? Well, news flash: we're all hot. But everyone else is still doing their jobs."

Ed really didn't want to argue about this. While it was in his nature to be combative, if he tried to explain that he was feeling hotter than the rest of them, he would feel like he was using his automail as an excuse. He never asked for leniency because of his automail; he didn't need it. "Just let me drink my water and I'll be back to work," he settled for saying.

"Don't forget you're speaking to a superior officer. I don't have to accept demands from you." Macon glowered down at the teenager. "This is your last water break until we're done with this block." With that, the man stalked away.

Ed huffed in annoyance, quickly drinking his water and letting the canteen fall back against his side, still half full. He pulled out his braid and redid his hair in a high ponytail, wanting it off his neck. God, it was so hot out. Why couldn't there be some clouds? Heck, he'd even take rain at this point. Anything for a bit of repreieve from the heat. His head was starting to hurt, and his pulse was pounding in his neck; he just wanted to be done with this and go take a nice, cool shower.

"Now, Fullmetal! Get to work!" Macon shouted.

Ed sighed and started back to the work site, feeling even more off-balance than before.

…

Breda was starting to get a little concerned. He'd heard Lieutenant-Colonel Macon intermittently chewing Edward out for not working for almost an hour now, and at first, he paid it no mind. The kid was always rebellious, and Breda wouldn't have been surprised if he was slacking off purposefully to get on Macon's nerves. But then, after a while, Breda started observing Edward's behavior. He didn't seem to be acting belligerent; he just seemed to be straight-up disoriented. Rebuilding a brick wall wasn't that onerous of a task…but it seemed like every few minutes, he would forget what he was doing and stand there until Macon yelled at him. Then, he started stumbling and bumping into things, and Breda had enough. Breda set down his bucket of mortar, wiping sweat from his brow. He went up to Macon, ready to say something. He respected authority, but he also had no problem standing up for himself (or others) when he thought an officer was wrong.

"Lieutenant-Colonel, I think you're being unfair to Edward."

"Elric? He's just being lazy," Macon replied, crossing his arms.

"I don't know. I don't think he looks well. I think he needs a break."

"You're questioning my judgment, Second Lieutenant?"

"With all due respect, yes, sir."

"Hm. Maybe I'll just have to have you go join him on that side of the wall, then. Do a little extra work."

Breda remained stone-faced despite his annoyance.

"Now go make yourself useful, Breda. We're done with this conversation."

Breda stiffly saluted, making his way over to Ed. The boy's face was beet-red, and he really didn't look good. "Hey, kid, how're you feeling?"

"Mm?" Ed blinked, looking up at the man who'd appeared beside him. "Breda…"

"It's pretty miserable, isn't it?" Breda said casually, ignoring how Ed didn't answer his question. "It sucks that they're making us work in this, doesn't it?"

"Yeah…"

Edward picked up a fallen brick, placing its broken halves on the partially rebuilt wall. He looked at them for a moment before clapping his hands and alchemically rejoining the pieces. Breda put down a layer of mortar and set the fixed brick in place.

"Breda…" Ed said, the name slow and slurred.

"What's up?"

"I don' feel right."

"I know. Hang on, kid." Breda frowned, looking around. Macon was nowhere in sight (probably taking a latrine break). Roy's team was a little further down the block, cleaning up the next site. Breda stared his boss down, hoping the colonel would notice the eyes on him. After about ten seconds, he did, looking over in Breda's direction. Breda gestured for assistance.

"I think I'm gonna puke," Ed said suddenly, and the moment the words left his mouth, he dropped to his knees, vomiting on the sidewalk.

"Shit," Breda whispered under his breath, kneeling down and setting his hand on the boy's back. He could feel Ed's chest heaving through his damp tank top. "Hang in there, Chief. Mustang is coming."

Edward muttered something entirely unintelligible, and a few seconds later, his arms gave out and he collapsed.

"Breda! What the hell happened?" Roy demanded the moment he reached them. The rest of the soldiers were looking at them now, watching in quiet concern.

"Damned Macon wouldn't let him have a break and the heat got to him," Breda replied.

Roy knelt down as well, avoiding the puddle of sick on the concrete. "Fullmetal! Can you hear me?" He turned the boy's face toward him, feeling his neck. "Dammit. His skin's dry."

"What?"

"He's not sweating anymore. We have to cool him off now or he's not going to make it." Roy made to pick Edward up but flinched back when he made contact with the searing hot automail. He quickly pulled Ed's top off, slipping it over his hand and forearm so he wouldn't burn himself before getting his arms under Ed's. "Breda, get his legs," he ordered, and the two men picked Edward off the ground. Roy looked around, trying to decide as fast as possible how best to help the kid. The fastest way to cool someone off would be to submerge them in cold water. His gaze fell on the supply vehicle, and the water barrel inside. Edward was small; he would easily fit in there. Sure, it would render their water supply undrinkable, but he didnt care if it meant saving his subordinate's life. "Let's take him to the car." He searched the crowd for a moment until he spotted who he was looking for. "Hawkeye, bring the other car over here!"

The two men rushed Ed over to the vehicle. Roy laid his charge down for a moment, telling Breda to get the barrel open while he stripped Ed's shoes and pants. Then, they submerged him into the water, being careful to keep his head out since he couldn't hold his breath while unconscious.

"He's going to be upset you stripped him to his underwear," Breda said in an attempt at humor.

"He's going to be too grateful to be alive to be embarrassed," Roy replied. He cupped his hand in the water, splashing it on Ed's face and over his head for a good minute.

Eventually, Ed's mouth twitched, and after a few more seconds, his eyes opened halfway. He blinked several times, clearly unaware of what exactly was going on. He tried to lift his head, but only succeeded in lolling it to the side. A soft, guttural noise of distress escaped his throat.

"You're alright, Fullmetal," Roy said, tightening his grip on Ed's shoulder. The teen only hummed again in response, still much too out of it. That was when Hawkeye pulled the other car up beside them, getting out and looking at them with masked concern.

"Sir…?" she asked softly.

He didn't reply directly. "Breda, let's get him in the car and to a hospital. Hawkeye, grab his clothes." She did as told, letting the two men pull Edward's dripping body out of the water barrel. He still felt way too hot, but the fact that he regained consciousness within minutes was a hopeful sign. Roy laid Edward across the backseat of the car, getting in and setting the boy's head on his lap. Breda and Hawkeye got in the front, and Roy ordered her to book it to the hospital.

Ed's eyes were bleary and unfocused, and he stared up at Roy for nearly a minute before it seemed like he finally figured out who he was looking at. "C'nel…"

"Fullmetal."

"Why…"

"You collapsed from the heat. We're taking you to get help."

"Right…Macon made me…"

Roy saw Riza's grip tighten slightly on the steering wheel, hearing it was Macon's fault. She probably wanted to pummel that man just as much as he did. But first, Edward.

"What did Macon do?" Roy asked; Breda had already told him, but having the kid say it himself would be helpful in disciplining the lieutenant-colonel.

"Needed water…told me to stop slacking off…"

Roy's blood boiled; how could that man not have seen Ed was ill? Roy probably would've told his men to quit slacking if they were taking too many breaks, too, but he wasn't cruel. Edward had to have been displaying symptoms well before collapsing; either Macon was stupid or he was deliberately ignoring the warning signs. No matter what was the case, he was in a hell of a lot of trouble.

They made it to the hospital five minutes later, and Edward's temperature hadn't gotten any better. It hadn't gotten worse, because the brief cold bath cooled him just enough, but his body still hadn't started functioning properly again; most of the water had already evaporated from his skin because of how hot he was. He still wasn't sweating, and had slipped back into the confused, half-aware state Breda had found him in at the wall. He was speaking, but it didn't make a lot of sense and mostly just consisted of repeated declarations of not feeling right. Roy knew that if the boy didn't get help soon, his brain and organs were at risk of serious damage.

Roy and Breda handed Edward off to the nurses, explaining he was probably experiencing heat stroke. The medical professionals hurried off, leaving Roy to sort out Edward's information.

"Who are the boy's parents?" the desk lady asked after Roy gave Edward's name and birthday.

"I am his legal guardian," Roy replied. They'd done this song and dance dozens of times at this point; Edward had no official guardian, so that role fell to his superior officer.

The woman looked surprised for a moment before writing the information down. "Okay then. I'll tell the doctor to let you into his room as soon as possible then…"

"As soon as possible" turned out to be just ten minutes later. Roy was led to Ed's room, where the boy was sprawled on the bed, still only in his underwear. Various ice packs covered his neck, back, underarms, groin—anywhere there was a lot of circulation. A male nurse was at his side, prepping Ed's arm for an IV.

"How's he doing?" Roy asked the nurse.

"As of now, not so good. But hopefully he starts responding to the treatment within the next ten minutes." The nurse inserted a needle into Ed's arm, connecting it to the waiting saline bag. "His internal temperature was almost 106 degrees, and he's extremely dehydrated."

Edward shifted slightly. "Can hear, y'know…" he mumbled.

"I know, buddy," the nurse said without missing a beat. "I was telling your guardian what's going on."

Ed's half-lidded eyes found Roy and he stared for a moment, realizing that's who the nurse had called his "guardian". He frowned slightly but seemed to accept the assertion; it was true, for legal purposes.

"He's still pretty out of it, too," the nurse continued, "but that mental fog should clear up once he starts cooling down. We've had a lot of people come in with heat stroke this week, especially after the earthquake knocked out a good chunk of the power grid."

Roy could imagine; without electricity, the options for cooling off were severely limited.

"Hey…doctor guy," Edward said.

"What's up?" the nurse said, turning back to Ed.

"Can you get this ice offa me?"

"Not yet, Mr. Elric. You need it to lower your temperature."

"It's cold. An' my name's Ed."

Roy couldn't help but smile a little at that. An ill Edward was a candid Edward. It almost made Roy wish the kid was like this all the time, instead of hiding behind his masks of anger and indifference. Sure, he'd still be an annoying, stubborn smart-ass, but Roy wouldn't mind if there was a bit of innocent naivety mixed in. Edward often had the eyes of someone three times his age—brought on by the hardships of his life, Roy was sure; it was nice to see that hardened exterior removed, even if it was due to illness. It was nice to see Edward act his age, for once.

The nurse smiled a little, too. He was new to this hospital and hadn't had an encounter with the famous Fullmetal Alchemist yet; this meeting was not living up to the wild rumors…maybe once his mind started clearing up, it would. "Well, Ed, my name is Colby. I'll be taking care of you while you're here." Colby checked Ed's vitals again and adjusted the positioning of the ice packs.

Meanwhile, Roy heard a knock on the open door and turned, seeing Hawkeye in the hallway. He looked back at Ed for a moment; everything seemed to be under control now. Roy stepped out of the room.

"Is something up, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, Lieutenant-Colonel Macon would like to speak to you in the lobby," she replied.

"Oh, he would?" Roy clenched his hands into fists. "I'll meet him there, then." And chew him out good…

Roy made his way back to the lobby where Macon was waiting, already standing at attention.

"Colonel, sir!" The lieutenant-colonel saluted, looking reasonably nervous. Good.

"What is it you wanted to discuss?" Roy asked, relishing in the other man's discomfort.

"Um, I just wanted to ask, well…how is Major Elric doing?"

"He'll be alright. No thanks to you, of course." Roy crossed his arms.

"I didn't think he was actually ill…"

"You would have to be an utter idiot to think he was alright."

"I just thought he was acting."

"If Fullmetal was acting, then he would be the one in trouble right now. Even if you thought he was faking it, it's your duty to treat a medical emergency as real just in case it is. Instead, your negligent actions nearly cost my subordinate his life. I don't think I need to tell you what would happen to you if he had died…"

Macon went pale, finally seeming to understand the gravity of the situation. It was satisfying to see, but Roy hadn't had enough yet.

"As it is, I'll still be making a report about this…" the Flame Alchemist smiled coyly. "I don't appreciate soldiers who know nothing about my men treating them like their own. You may be Edward's superior officer, but I am yours, and I'm not above using my power."

Adequately threatened, Macon nervously saluted. "Understood, sir." With that, he scurried away.

Roy smirked, returning to Ed's room. The doctor herself was in the room now, sitting in the chair nearby and seemingly just chatting with him.

"So you did what to the colonel's desk?" she asked, writing something on a clipboard.

"I transmuted the drawer shut," Ed replied. "I never want to see that magazine again, and he doesn't deserve to ever see it again. Not when Hawkeye's right there." Ed lifted his arm, looking warily at the IV implanted in it. "Can I have this out now?"

"Not yet, but probably once you finish that bag of fluids."

"Mm." Ed put his arm down and looked around, noticing Roy had returned. "Oh. How much did you hear?" he asked, looking a little embarrassed.

"Enough to know why that drawer of my desk stopped working," Roy replied. And to think I ever defended you.

Ed thought for a moment. "Well what I said is still true."

Roy stepped closer, trying to ignore the implications of "Hawkeye's right there" (and refrain from strangling the kid for going through his desk).

"He started perspiring again a couple minutes after you left," the doctor said. "That's a great sign."

Roy looked Edward over; he was still really flushed, but his eyes were a lot more focused. Still not fully there, but much better. Sweat and condensation from the ice packs covered his skin in a light sheen. A new pair of ice packs had been placed at his automail ports, as well, and Roy asked why that was.

"Cause I told them it would help," Ed replied. "The reason I got so hot in the first place was in large part because of my automail. It conducts temperature, and it's not just on me but inside me. So if it's hot, it'll make me hot, and if it's cold, it'll make me cold."

"I made sure to wrap those ones in extra towels," the doctor added, "because we don't want him getting frostbite or anything. But he is correct. It certainly has sped up the cooling process."

Roy sat in the other available chair, watching his subordinate with mild amusement (and embarrassment, still thinking about the conversation he'd walked in on. What did the doctor say about that? Hopefully nothing bad…). After ten more minutes, Colby came by and removed the ice packs from Ed's body, saying it wasn't safe to leave them for longer than half an hour at a time. He checked Ed's temperature, reporting it had dropped down to a hundred; still feverish, but no longer deadly. The doctor said that once the dehydration treatment was complete, Edward should be able to go home.

Edward shifted again, checking the level of liquid in the IV bag. "Can I have my clothes back soon?" he asked.

"We don't have them," Colby replied.

Ed frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Your clothes were already removed when you got here."

It took a moment for Ed to realize what that meant. He violently swiveled his head toward Roy. "You—you—!"

"I saved your life, Fullmetal. Be grateful I was kind enough to leave your underwear." He grinned.

A cacophony of emotions crossed Ed's face, most notably shock and embarrassment, before he settled on slightly humiliated gratitude. "You're right. Thanks for saving me."

"What was that? I don't think I've ever heard a true word of thanks from your mouth before."

"I'm already indebted to you for this! Don't make me repeat it!" Ed yelled. "Man, I hope Macon gets put through the wringer."

"Don't worry, he will," Roy said with a smirk. "But you might, too, now that I know about my desk."

"The fact that you never thought to check for signs of alchemy shows you didn't care that much. Plus, it's weird."

"You'll understand one day."

Edward made a mock gagging sound, and Roy laughed. Little did the kid know that there were some hidden alchemy notes in the magazine…

"I'll tell Hawkeye to fetch your clothes from the car, though, so they're here when you're done with the IV," Roy said, getting up to leave.

Ed's eyes snapped open wide again. "H-Hawkeye! She—"

Roy quickly left, snickering. Ed was going to be just fine. His teenage pride, though…maybe not so much.

honestly I'm not sure where that end humor came from. I wanted Ed and the doctor to be talking when Roy got back and that's just what Ed decided to say. So new headcanon I guess: Roy has a dirty magazine (probably just swimsuit models, nothing too crazy) that he hides some of his alchemy notes in, like how his phone book is also encrypted notes. And Ed found and it was like "seriously, my dude? That's insulting to Riza's presence" so he made it inaccessible. And Roy was like "welp, guess my desk is broken". Again, no idea where the idea came from XD

I also don't know why this one is so freaking long. There's no reason for it to be