Secret Santa for Pollen Girl - (FMA, Edward) Part 2/3 Updated 1/31

[alias]

A/N: Hello Pollen Girl, and happy holidays to you!! I was STOKED to receive your Secret Santa wish list because Fullmetal Alchemist is my first true love. Originally, I had planned to post the whole story at once, but seeing as I didn't get it all finished, I decided to post it in parts so you still get the first chunk of it on time. The next part might take a couple weeks to get up since I'll be on vacation for five days, but I fully intend to complete the whole thing before the middle of January.

I did my best to knead in a good helping of everything you requested, but some of it doesn't happen until later. So know that you WILL get everything you asked for, but not all of it is in this first part.

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN'T WATCHED THROUGH EPISODE 4 OF BROTHERHOOD: This story takes place immediately after the unmentionable incident with Shou Tucker, during an imaginary day in between the time that atrocity happens, and when Tucker is murdered by Scar.

FUN FACT: In the manga, when Edward is sulking in the rain after having discovered what Tucker did to Nina, Mustang tells him "Go home and rest. You'll catch a cold." By my logic, characters who get caught out in the rain must always come down with a cold. Thus, this fic.

And of course, the disclaimer: I don't own the characters in Fullmetal Alchemist, as badly as I want them and wish I did.

So without further blathering from me, here is Part 1 of your present! I hope you like it!

*****

The Day After Despair

The laughter was distant, a child’s voice chiming at play, and in its canned resonance he wasn’t sure if it was far away or merely a memory. It rode in and out like a wave, pulsing through the dark in rhythm with shapes he could almost make out, forms that reminded him of things long past and things present slithering into one.

“Mom…” He heard the voice from the back of his throat. Through the clouded dark before him he traced her outline, and he could almost see her warm smile. Her arms opened as they always did when she would take him in her embrace, where all was safe and the world around them was just a nightmare, and he bounded forward through the weighted air as if running through water. And then her arms were no longer open; they were reaching, grasping, a blackened limb of something not human flopping over the ground like a dying fish, and the thing that wasn’t his mother wheezed his name.

“Edward… why couldn’t you save me?”

He fell backward, and his body sank paralyzed into a ground he couldn’t see as the shape before him writhed into an amorphous vortex, its matter twisting between tangibility and smoke until it settled on a new form. The new creature, neither human nor animal, hunched over in its canine figure, while a pair of pleading, despairing eyes howled out from between strands of chestnut hair.

“Play with me… Ed…ward… look what you let happen to us…”

A sob whined from its muzzle, and somewhere in the sound he could hear a little girl cry for her daddy. He tried to push himself up, but neither his organic nor artificial limbs paid heed to the command. The forsaken wail gagged itself into a growl, and the snout of the chimera snarled open around a maw of dagger fangs. Then it leapt forward.

When Edward’s body finally moved he found himself swimming through his own tangled sheets, gasping for the air that thinned out as the dream dispersed. Cold sweat adhered his clothes to his body, or maybe it was just the rain still soaked in from the night before, and in the aftermath of the dank nightmare it left a grimy feeling against his skin. A dream. It was a dream. His chest pumped oxygen into his lungs too quickly and too deeply as he pulled himself further awake.

If only it were just a dream.

“Brother…” The call was soft through its hollowed metal, and it helped ease him into consciousness. He turned toward his brother’s voice, where the armored soul sat against the wall of their room, ever awake through the darkest nights. In that moment only, Ed could have envied him for it, never having to be subjected to the terrors that came with falling asleep. It almost sounded like a nice reprieve. But he knew better than to overlook the reality that spending every long night awake and alone came with its own kind of nightmares.

“Are you alright?” Alphonse went on. A shard of early sunlight reflected off the point of his breastplate and cut over Ed’s vision, toggling the room in a dizzying suspension. He pressed a palm into his forehead as a dull ache beat through his eyes.

“Yeah… bad dream.” The cold vocalization scraped his lungs and made him cough, a convulsion that, once it began, he found he had a difficult time suppressing. Alphonse clanked as he shifted position to lean closer to his brother. Ed raked a hand through his loosed hair to unstick it from his face and blinked his eyes open, lids heavy against the brightness. Despite the glare of the sun, the rain still poured from the sky in an unending torrent, and now that he was halfway out of his covers the reminder unleashed a shiver from his spine.

“You tossed and turned all night. I wasn’t sure if I should wake you or not.”

“I don’t think it would have made much of a diff-heh—” The light bent once more from his armored brother and pierced over his face, and as he squinted against it, the air he was using to speak skipped into the back of his throat instead. A fuse ignited that burned from his eyes into his nose, and before he had a chance to snuff it out, the flare combusted and wrenched him forward. “—Hehh’t-TCHSHjh!! Uhn…”

The violence of the spasm jerked his sleepy body, and his muscles screamed at him in protest. If he wasn’t fully awake before, he certainly was now. He scrubbed his nose with the back of his wrist and sniffed, forgetting the rest of what he was about to say. The cold, damp fabric did little to alleviate the tickle and only served to make him shiver again. He didn’t think much of it until Alphonse echoed a startled noise.

“Brother,” Ed heard the admonishment in his tone before he even said anything, “did you fall asleep in your wet clothes?”

Edward blinked lazily as the accusation sifted through his head, which, now that he was awake, felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton. He looked down at the black shirt that hung heavily from his shoulders, weighted and chilled from the water that didn’t dry overnight.

“I guess I forgot to change,” he shrugged. He wasn’t sure exactly when he had crawled into bed last night. Most of the little moments like that were swallowed up by the other events of the day. The ones he wished he could forget. He stripped the sodden garment from his torso and cast it aside, though being rid of it didn’t quell the chill.

“You should be more careful about that,” Alphonse lectured. Ed just rubbed his head, and when he looked up his brother extended a dry shirt. “You’ll end up catching a cold.”

Edward scoffed, but beneath the woozy lethargy it sounded more like a groan. These days, Alphonse was even worse than Winry when it came to worrying about every little shift in the wind. Ever since they lost their original bodies, Al liked to keep an especially sharp watch on his older brother who still had human parts left to injure. Ed had to remind himself that it was because Al didn’t have a body of his own anymore, so he had to overcompensate by judging things like a mosquito bite to be at the same threat level as chemical warfare. Edward did his best to nod along and bear it. After everything they’d been through, all of their close calls, he could hardly blame Al for wanting to adopt a certain amount of caution. It had to get difficult, losing the physical empathy to compare things to, not to mention downright depressing at times… But that didn’t mean it never got annoying.

“Sheesh, I didn’t realize I was gonna get the wrath of the clothing police,” Ed complained. Al maintained his steely expression—which was, unsurprisingly, quite easy to pull off through a suit of metal—until Ed accepted the dry garb. He yawned as he pulled it over his head, grateful for what little warmth it offered. Once he was clothed, he made work on tying his hair back into a braid.

“It’s still pretty early, but I think the mess hall is open if you wanna go get breakfast.”

Ed cringed at the thought. His stomach was empty, but over the course of the evening it felt like it had shriveled up and tied itself in a knot. The idea of letting food slide down his dry throat sounded no more pleasant than swallowing sand. Even if he did have an appetite, being stuck in a cafeteria full of blue uniforms and other dogs was far from the top of his breakfast agenda. “I’m not hungry,” was the only extent of his thoughts he offered to Al.

“Alright, we can go later then,” his brother conceded. Alphonse had no need to attend breakfast other than to accompany his brother, but as he acquiesced there was still something careful in his tone. Edward wrapped his arms around a popped up knee and hunched over, though even with his head down he could still feel Al’s acute attention on him. “What do you want to do today? Colonel Mustang gave you the day off, after all.”

Ed bristled at the name and a vein pulsed in his head where it was already throbbing. “I’ll bet that bastard thinks he’s doing me a favor. Probably kicking back and basking in his own generosity right now.” He snorted, and the reaction was chased by another twist in his lungs that made him cough. Alphonse’s armor clanked with some motion he wasn’t watching, but his brother didn’t say anything. Ed cleared his throat, certain he had only choked on his own spit. He had to ignore the fact that the bout left his chest rather sore.

“You really shouldn’t talk about your superior that way, you know,” Alphonse offered, with little expectation that Ed would even give the notion a second of consideration.

Ed dismissed him with a “Pshh!” though too quickly forgot the effect such efforts had on his lungs this morning, and before he could reel in his disdain he choked on it, arching further into another spasm. Something thick rattled uncomfortably in his lungs, and he swallowed hard in attempt to ignore that too. “He just wants me out of his hair is why he gave me leave.”

Somewhere through his hollow frame Alphonse emitted a sigh, and his head clinked as he scrutinized Ed up and down. Ed offered back little more than a heavy brow. “Well, you do look like you could use a day off,” his brother concluded.

“I don’t need a day off,” Ed sulked, drawing out the last part with a whine. “If anything, we need an extra day on. Yesterday’s research was a bust, and we still have zilch on the philosopher’s stone. We won’t get anywhere by sitting around doing nothing all day.”

He kicked out of the covers and stretched up in his bed, though the draft that hit him outside of the sheets made him wish he hadn’t deserted them so quickly. Damn rain, he thought to himself as he ground his teeth to stave off a shiver. Whenever the weather got cold and wet like this it always made his stumps flare up. Though… actually… it wasn’t just his stumps this time; his whole body ached in contact with the cold air. He wiggled his good leg to get the circulation flowing, then craned his neck to either side. Despite the fact that he was awake, and was more than loath to fall back asleep, he couldn’t seem to clear the fog that suffused his head.

“I suppose we could request some more documents from the library archives,” Al tried. “Maybe if we narrowed our search to bioalchemy we might find—uh… Ed?”

Edward missed most of Alphonse’s suggestion, as another urgency arrested his attention. He could ignore the sound in his chest, and the throbbing in his head, and the soreness that blazed under his skin for no good reason… but he could not ignore the pinprick itch that buzzed through his nose. He blinked off in a haze, staring heavily into space as if playing dead would make it go away. His mouth parted, and by no command of his own his breath fluttered into his throat, drawing his eyes further into a squint with each hitch, until at last the compulsion released him.

“Hyeh-Ih’CKSHhew!!” He snapped forward at the torso, almost bending all the way to the bed by the force of it, and he was only able to draw himself halfway up before the burning tickle assaulted him again. “IhtTSHch’eh! huh’gKSHiuu!! …huh— hih-uh’pSHHchuu!!”

Edward groaned petulantly when the fit ceased, and even though he managed to stop sneezing, the itch didn’t fully abate, lodging itself somewhere high in his sinuses like a burrowed spider. He sniffed deeply, paying little heed to decorum just in the company of his brother, then massaged his eyes in attempt to rub back some of the energy the fit took from him.

“You should just stay in bed today, brother.” Alphonse’s voice was absent the softness it expressed when conceding to Ed’s whims, and despite the suggestiveness of the words, it resonated with a quality that was much more authoritative. “You only ever sneeze like that when you’re catching a cold.”

“Hey, enough with the catching a cold crap! I’m fine. It’s just the light bothering me, that’s all.”

Ed sniffed again in defiance, though the liquid sound that resulted didn’t help his case. He whipped away from his brother’s scrutiny and made work on the window over his bed, unknotting the curtain so he could fling it shut and cut off the weak stream of overcast sun. Once the room was cloaked in gray, he swung his legs over the mattress to further breach Al’s accusation, but as he sat there ready to leave his bed, even after all the argument, his toes still hesitated to make the transition to the cold floor.

“Here.” Al got up and trudged over to the closet, then drew out Ed’s red coat. “If you’re going to be stubborn, at least put this on.”

He tossed the garment at his brother, and Ed accepted it without dispute, wasting no time in sliding his arms into the sleeves. Gritting his teeth, he touched down to the floor.

“And yeah, let’s try the library again,” said Ed as Al tossed him a pair of pants. “I had a few thoughts on things we haven’t looked into yet—” He didn’t get a chance to elaborate. The sentence came to an abrupt halt when that needlepoint itch he couldn’t get rid of chose that moment to scamper back through his airways. Determined to stave off the attack that would most certainly welcome more nagging from his little brother, he clamped his jaw shut and refused to take in another breath. The attempt lasted only a few seconds before he lost the battle.

“Hiht’dCHSHHh!!!” He buckled to the reflex, a mine imploding in his skull for trying to hold it back. He was growing certain that still wouldn’t be the last of it, but he straightened anyway as if nothing had happened, sure to keep turned away from the glare he could feel through the back of his head.

“Bless you,” said the tinned voice, and Edward caught more snark than politeness in the platitude.

He ignored the blessing, electing instead to pretend like he hadn’t heard it, and resumed getting dressed. He snatched up his boots from under the bed and hoisted them over his feet, but as he hunched over to tie them his nose threatened to start running. He sniffed yet again, the sound of the congestion obliterating any guise he had maintained. On top of that, the effort itself proved insufficient, and with another wet sniff he was forced to stop up the deluge with his wrist.

“Ew, don’t use your sleeve! That’s gross, you’re gonna spread your germs everywhere!”

“I’b dot gudda spread gerbs adywhere because I’b dot sick!” He had to snuffle behind the fabric before he continued, in danger of revealing something more distinct and far more repulsive as evidence of his predicament. “And what do you care about gerbs? You cad’t catch them!”

“Well other people can. You’re gonna infect all of Eastern Command if you keep doing things like that.” Al stomped over to the bedside drawer and rummaged inside until he produced a square of cloth, then tossed it into his brother’s lap. Edward, now in dire need of something wider than his coat sleeve, snatched the handkerchief peevishly and wasted no time in blowing his nose. When he had expended its use, he balled it up and tossed it to the other side of his bed. To his dismay, his airways still refused to clear, and with another thick sniff he resorted once more to his wrist. Alphonse huffed and dug through the drawer once more, then tossed him a second cloth.

“Are you still gonna insist that you’re dot sick?” Alphonse mimicked Ed’s voice, which he met with a scowl. “Come on, Ed. It’s obvious you aren’t feeling well. And I can tell you have a fever.”

“Ugggghhh, I do not!” Ed complained, careful to pronounce each word clearly. He may not have had a fever, but the conversation was certainly making his head boil. “How would you know, anyway? It’s not like you can feel if I’m warm.”

The moment the words left his lips he wished he could pull them back in, and the realization of what he just said smacked him awake harder than any of the symptoms he’d experienced all morning. A stark silence cut through the room, leaving nothing but the stampede of rain outside. Slowly, Ed turned back toward his brother, who’s head notched downward with a muted screech.

Alphonse’s voice was barely audible. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Ed swallowed hard, then took a steady breath, letting it out with the same care. “Sorry,” he husked. “I’m just still a little… ya know… from yesterday.”

“Yeah,” Alphonse nodded. “Me too.”

Ed sighed, and in the continued silence he surrendered to a moment of fatigue and sat back down on the edge of the bed, letting his head drop into his palms. The window roared with the torrent of the storm outside, and the pelting rain felt like a firing squad inside his head. Sitting there, he could almost let himself drift off just to escape it all. But in the loose state of consciousness, his lungs took the opportunity to turn on him, and before his breathing could relax he was shaken with another bout of broken coughing. The spasm seemed to churn coal in his chest, and he pressed a fist against his lips to try and quell it, managing to choke it off before it made too much of a scene. The victory was short-lived though, as the coughing was apparently his body’s ploy to coax out another reflex.

“Hh!—” He gasped, and the moment he tried to hold it in he knew it was a stupid idea. “Huh’t—!…’TNSHhiuu!! EhkXSHh’ih!… UH’tSSHhuu!!”

“Bless you,” Alphonse offered, this time his tone more genuine.

“Thagks.” Ed sniffed, then made use of the second handkerchief his brother had given him.

After another beat of nothing but rain and the sound of Ed blowing his nose, Alphonse stepped over and peered out the window, his pensive posture easy to read, then crossed back to the center of the room. “How about this,” he proposed. “I’ll go to the library and get started, and I’ll see what I can bring back here for us to look through. That way, you’ll still get to do your research, and I’ll get to know you aren’t pushing yourself too hard. Equivalent exchange.”

Ed let a short laugh rattle through the congestion in his lungs. He didn’t love the idea, but he couldn’t help but smirk at his brother’s tactics. The kid certainly knew his audience. “Fine. For equivalent exchange, then.”

Alphonse nodded and gave a satisfied hum, then grabbed a few of their empty sacs and hung them over his spiked shoulder. “I’ll be back. Now you lie down.”

“Alright, alright, I’m doing it, sheesh.” Edward humored him by reclining into the pillow, flashing him a raised eyebrow to demonstrate he could follow directions. Alphonse craned his head, a suspicious gleam shining over his hollowed eyes, then trod over to the end of the bed and drew up the blanket Ed had kicked off. He draped the cover back over his brother and then tucked him in tight, and while the extra layer brought a welcome warmth against the morning air, Ed was certain Al’s motive was more focused on trapping him in the cocooned prison.

“I’ll be back in about an hour. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

Ed flipped over on his side to face the window. “Shutting my eyes now.”

There was a shriek of metal as his brother turned around, followed by clanking footfalls as he proceeded toward the door. Ed waited, motionless in his bed, as his brother stalled at the doorway, and the invalid gave a tired sigh to urge his zealous caregiver onward. At last, the doorknob turned, and Al crept through, shutting it quietly as if Ed were already asleep. Ed listened as the metal boots tromped all the way down the hall until their clangor disappeared somewhere down the stairs.

When the echo of his brother’s armored frame was beyond where his ears could reach, Ed ripped out of his covered confinement and followed the same path out the door.

*****
TBC...

Edited January 31, 2016 by alias

[Sawyer]

Okay, so I have a confession. I've gone through your post history several times and read through all of your FMA stuff but never commented because I was sooooo self-conscious about bumping up an old thread. But now I don't have to!

I'm so amazed by your writing, in regards to both language and characterization. This is amazing! I especially love the way you describe symptoms and temperaments. Reading the dialogue between Ed and Al feels like I'm watching the anime because of how well you capture their dynamic and banter (and oh my god, Al with all of his concern is my favorite thing about the series and you wrote it so well that I could melt)!

It's going to be so fun to read this one over and over. I really enjoyed it and I can't wait for the next part!!

edit: Usually when I really love a story I'll make a list quoting all of my favorite parts, and I realized I can't do this with yours because I'd be copying/pasting every single line back to you. But let me just say that I especially loved the difference in the tone of Al's blessings (omg!!!!) and him making fun of Ed's voice when he's congested. Very good!!!!!

Edited December 28, 2015 by Sen Beret

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

Yesss yeesssss YEEEESSSSSSSS!!!!!!!

I absolutely love FMA! The way you portray the brothers is just astounding! You've captured Ed's stubbornness and Al's gentle care to an absolute point!

And holy crap! The amount of detail and description you put into this is just.....ughghghghfhfhjh

I am so pumped for the next part!

Edited December 28, 2015 by Pyrus_Fangmon

[Nas]

OMG, ALIAS THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Holy....I don't even know where to begin. I love this so much....your language and writing style are beautiful, and I feel like I'm watching an episode of Brotherhood. Ed's symptoms and descriptions made me absolutely melt!

The part of FMA with Nina is just so heartbreaking, and knowing that feeling is still raw with both of the brothers...just gah! I love the level of angst!

I'm on the over side of this screen fangirling. . I can't get over how in love with this story I am! Thank you for all of the time you put into this story! I'm so excited for the next part!

Edited December 28, 2015 by Pollen Girl

[Arty]

Because this episode /part in the manga wasn't sad enough, now Ed is sick? I wish this did happen. I freaking love Alphonse. He's so caring and adorable. And of course poor Ed all tough and in denial. I wanna wrap him in blankets and give him hot chocolate.

[Emily]

Okay let me just restate that I will read anything you write, but also the first thing I ever read by you was FMA and it had be rolling around in circles. This is no exception and literally the whole day in the rain thing, I'm so glad you went there because I think about that part all the time and how it could have been repurposed for our benefit!! This isn't even my gift but it felt like one anyway! AND THERE WILL BE MORE?!! You're wonderful.

I love that Al wants to show his concern but is also annoyed that his brother won't take it. The way you write their relationship is so perfect, and I squealed so much reading this!!

After another beat of nothing but rain and the sound of Ed blowing his nose, Alphonse stepped over and peered out the window, his pensive posture easy to read, then crossed back to the center of the room. “How about this,” he proposed. “I’ll go to the library and get started, and I’ll see what I can bring back here for us to look through. That way, you’ll still get to do your research, and I’ll get to know you aren’t pushing yourself too hard. Equivalent exchange.”

Ed let a short laugh rattle through the congestion in his lungs. He didn’t love the idea, but he couldn’t help but smirk at his brother’s tactics. The kid certainly knew his audience. “Fine. For equivalent exchange, then.”

I want to quote everything tbh lol but I will just put this one here because equivalent exchange as a bargaining chip with Ed is one of my favorite things. Al is so concerned!! And for good reason too LOL I'm melting away into rivulets...

All the good stuff is....hella good man. I just love the way you write, porn or non-porn. You have a really masterful way of using language that just hooks me in at every word and compels me to read. Nothing feels too much.

[ringsofsaturn]

oh wow, this is extremely well written! you've really done a great job keeping them in character! i'll definitely be looking forward to more!

[Sitruuna]

I finally read this and damn it's nice

Nom

ouo

I'm definitely looking forward to the next part

Edited January 3, 2016 by Sitruuna

[alias]

*YIPES* Oh dear lord is it really the END of January??? *hits self in the face* I'm SO LATE and I'm SO SORRY, but at long last, I finally finished Part 2! *realizes she said all parts would be finished by the middle of January but hopes no one else remembers that detail*

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR COMMENTING AND FOLLOWING! <3 You guys rock my socks, and I love you so much. I'm so glad you liked it, and I hope I can serve something equally appetizing with these next few parts.

@San Beret: I'm so happy you enjoyed it! You have seriously given me the best compliment ever. I have been so nervous to post this because FMA is like, my first true love, so getting the characters right was my number one priority. These brothers are so important to me. So thank you so much!

@Pyrus_Fangmon: Yay! I'm glad you approve! One of my favorite things about Ed and Al is how completely opposite they are personality-wise. And yet they are still the best of friends and care about each other more than anything. <3 Thank you for your nice words!!!

@Pollen Girl: You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that! I am SO GLAD you like it. <3 Any time I can make someone fangirl is a victory in my book! I gotta say, I was pretty worried about bringing up the Nina incident, since us fans are all a little... sensitive about it... Haha, I was worried everyone would take one look at that part and say ALIAS HOW COULD YOU OPEN THAT WOUND YOU MONSTER! Heh heh, so I'm glad that didn't happen. Thank you so much for all your kind words! I hope you continue to enjoy part two (and know that there is still more to come of what you requested in part 3).

@Artygirl22: Eheheh... I have this thing where any time a character is put through stress or rain or trauma or anything remotely taxing, THEY MUST GET SICK. And then I want to cuddle them. <3 Thanks for commenting!

@Emily: Dude you make me so happy. I'm so glad you think I got the brothers right, because they are a part of my soul. And for real, RAIN must always equal SICKNESS. It's my own personal law of science. Thank you so much for your ridiculous compliments! <3 You make a fellow fangirl happy.

@ringsofsaturn: Thank you so much! I hope you like this next part!

@Sitruuna: I'm so glad you liked it! Hope I didn't keep ya waiting too long.

Seriously guys, I cannot express how much your kind words mean to me. Thank you all so much for commenting. I have so much fun writing these, and even more fun sharing them, so thank you for reading and making me a happy fangirl!!!

Aaaaaaaaaand without any more waiting, here is Part Two!


*****

Roy Mustang was two coffees and three aspirin in to a migraine.

The paperwork that loomed over him was thick enough to fill an entire shelf in the library. He hunched over his desk, head propped up by a clenched fist. It wasn’t the most voluminous workload he’d ever had to manage, but it was definitely one of the most… unappetizing. Shou Tucker’s trial would take place tomorrow morning, giving him just until the end of the day to complete all the tedious aspects, and the court procedure itself was bound to conjure a whole new batch of complications. The storm hammering against his windowpane certainly didn’t make going about it any easier. He had considered staying in bed a little while longer, in hopes of exchanging the hours for the headache, but ended up deciding against it, as it would have only been two more hours of lying awake to tack on to the night spent with his eyes open. Catching up on sleep would have to wait until this whole mess was over and filed away.

Then again, after what he saw in the Sewing Life Alchemist’s godforsaken laboratory, he doubted finishing the paperwork was going to make sleep any easier.

“Do you need a new pen, Colonel?”

Her voice pulled him from a stupor and drew his eyes to the clock. The hour hand crawled toward the nine—still far too early to be drifting off—and he couldn’t remember where the minute hand had been the last time he put ink on the paper. His trusted adjutant was prone to comments of the sort, never shy to give him a little nudge from slacking off. It was a professionalism that he expected of her. To keep him on task and organized. Though… there were certain times, like this one, when her intervention seemed to arrive with a more… particular purpose. Times, for instance, when the tedium of the paperwork was the safer haven from where his thoughts were bound to seep, if left to wade into the black muck of yesterday’s events…

She had an uncanny knack for chiming in just before that could happen.

“No, this one should suffice for a while longer. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye nodded and retrieved the empty mug from his desktop. His eyes lingered after her as she walked the dish over to its bin, this time sucked into a trance that had nothing to do with the previous one. He jolted out of it when she turned in an about-face, returning back to her desk, and without giving much thought to his grasp of the alphabet his hand floundered with the pen and started making letters over his paperwork.

“We’ll have to run on a tight schedule if you want to ensure this is all completed by tomorrow,” the lieutenant commented, out of practicality rather than nagging. “Would you like me to arrange to have your lunch brought here?”

Roy shook his head, then rubbed a hand over his face. “I think we’ll be fine. It shouldn’t put us too far into overtime. Just as long as we can get through the day without any interruptions.”

THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP!

The banging outside his office door felt like it was pounding from inside his brain. His head cranked toward the sound, where the lieutenant was already making her way to address, and his hand clenched a little more tightly around his pen.

“I wonder who that could be,” Roy grumbled without any shred of doubt. There were few comrades in Eastern City who had the audacity to announce their arrival in such a brash manner. And fewer still who possessed the metal limb that could create such a resonance.

Roy turned back to his work as the lieutenant opened the door.

“Hello, Edward,” she greeted.

“Hi, Lieutenant. May I have a word with the colonel, please?”

Roy almost laughed at the attempt. The words were polite. But the effect was shattered through the barely-corked arrogance of the kid’s temper.

“I’m afraid Colonel Mustang isn’t taking any meetings today. If you’d like, I can schedule an appointment—”

“This won’t take more than a minute,” Edward insisted. “I’m sure he can fit that much into his busy schedule.”

“I gave you the day off, Fullmetal,” Roy called over the lieutenant, still not taking his eyes from his paper. “Now for your sake and mine, go enjoy it.”

There was a groan of metal, what was likely the teenager squeezing his fist. “I know, and as charitable as that was of you, I’ve got my own load of work piling up.”

The door creaked, and then latched shut. For a moment Roy basked in the satisfaction that the lieutenant shut the door in the hothead’s face, until the thud of the young alchemist’s stomping feet broke across his office. Roy whipped his head up as Edward planted himself front and center, his hands slunk into his pockets and his liquid-gold irises burning with that indelible glint of defiance. The colonel flashed a glare at his adjutant, who merely returned to his side and stood at attention without so much as a flinch. There was a reason he trusted Hawkeye so completely when it came to having his back. He knew that in any given situation, no one was going to get through his office door, unless she allowed it.

He turned his grimace back to the disgruntled alchemist. “Make it quick.”

Edward’s jaw snapped open, and Mustang waited for him to breathe fire, but something halted the boy’s rage. He had been wound up, ready to unleash his obnoxiousness, and then it was as though a spring snapped at the last second, and he forgot what he was about to say. His gilded eyes lost focus, though Roy could see them ticking to get back into place. While the behavior prompted little worry, it did catch him by surprise. It was out of character, to say the least. However, in light of the events of the prior evening, it wasn’t exactly astonishing. Roy was more than familiar with certain kinds of traumatic experiences making one do things out of character.

It didn’t take long for Edward to regather himself, and when he did the fire in his eyes blazed as brazenly as ever. He pierced Mustang with the incendiary glare, two yellow coals whose conflagration only darkened the shadows beneath them.

“I want a new lead.”

Roy’s pen kept moving. “A new lead for what?”

“Don’t pull that patronizing crap! You owe me a new lead on the philosopher’s stone.”

Roy felt his own jaw tense up. He didn’t have the time—or frankly, the energy—to deal with the kid’s attitude today. It was the price he paid for recruiting a child to be a state alchemist; the kid had mettle, no one could argue that, and he demonstrated a consistent knack for achieving results that even many of the senior officers lacked… but the scale balanced out every time he turned into a little fourteen-year-old punk.

“Shou Tucker’s research on bio-alchemy was the best lead into your endeavors that I possessed,” Roy explained. “What happened yesterday was tragic, and abominable. But it was not my doing, nor my responsibility.”

There was a quiet shuffle next to him as the lieutenant shifted the weight of her footing. The more prominent sound was the snarl Fullmetal spat through his teeth.

“Not your responsibility?” His metal fist tightened. “For a flame alchemist, you can be a real cold bastard, you know that?”

“Watch the way you speak to me, Fullmetal. You like to forget that I’m your commanding officer—”

“Don’t you think our power as state alchemists gives us the responsibility to protect people? To protect innocent little girls? What good is having power if we can’t save anyone!?”

Edward’s voice rose with each exclamation and was getting dangerously close to piercing Roy’s eardrums, but before he could create too much of an uproar, the impending scream seemed to pierce his own throat instead, and what probably would have been an earth-shaking tirade turned into a choked bout of coughing. Edward jerked away, putting his back to them, and the Flamel symbol over his scarlet coat contorted as he hunched over into his elbow. Roy continued to pen his report, grateful for such an interruption. That conversation would have led to nowhere productive, and certainly nowhere bright. Another drawback of working with a child. You’re still so naive, Fullmetal, he thought to himself through the scrape of ink on his paper. Are you still living under the delusion that the military gave us this power to save people?

Edward managed to calm the spasm, then turned back around. He planted his feet on the ground and readied himself to pick right back up where he left off. Roy cut in on his intake of breath.

“Did you come here to argue with me about morals, or did you come to get a new lead?”

The grimace on his face hardened around his agape mouth. Edward faltered, caught in the midst of deciding which battle he was going to choose. Mustang waited patiently, watching the muscles in the boy’s neck tense. At last, Edward let out the breath that was probably meant to scream something full of obscenities, and the clench in his fist relaxed to a looser grip.

“I came here to get a new lead,” he said evenly, the effort in his restraint pulsing through a vein in his forehead. “You owe me one for handling the Liore incident.”

Mustang drew a new leaf of paper and continued to scribe. “As I said before, I gave you all the information I have at the moment that may pertain to the philosopher’s stone. I can’t tell you something I don’t know. And in any case, I believe the lead I gave you was plenty sufficient. You had two full days to make use of Tucker’s personal library. As far as I’m concerned, my debt to you is repaid.”

“That’s crap and you know it!” Edward jabbed a finger in his direction, the volume of his voice back up in the danger zone. “I know your rank gives you access to classified documents, and you’re holding out on me!”

“Edward…”

Maybe it was hearing the sound of his name, or perhaps it was an effect of the deep-toned feminine voice that it came from, but when Lieutenant Hawkeye spoke, the rolling boil of Edward’s rant immediately calmed to a sizzle. For the first time since he stormed through the door, he tore his blazing eyes from his commanding officer, and both he and Roy turned to listen to the lieutenant speak. She maintained her unwavering posture as she took the floor. “Are you feeling alright?”

The question made Edward stutter, and the face he made in response looked like one he might make if the lieutenant had walked in on him with his pants down. Roy looked back and forth between the two, from the scrutinizing glare in the hawk’s eye, to the pink tinge it swiped across the young alchemist’s face. He settled his gaze on Fullmetal, attempting to discern what in the boy’s demeanor prompted the question from his far more perceptive comrade. Apart from the new blush flourishing over his cheekbones, Edward didn’t immediately seem to be any more or less of the little terror that he usually was whenever he stomped his way into Roy’s office. Even watching him stumble to find an answer, the colonel failed to spot anything telling of a cause for concern. But he also knew Riza Hawkeye didn’t see things that weren’t there.

“I’m fine,” the boy asserted, and he tipped his head down lower as he spoke, shielding much of his eyes in the shadow of his tousled bangs.

Edward said nothing further, and as Hawkeye maintained her unyielding stare he seemed to stop breathing as well. Roy waited, watching, wondering who could hold out on the silence longer. After a long moment of mutual stubbornness, he lost patience.

“As much as I’d love to entertain more of your complaints, I have a mountain of paperwork to get through and very little time to do it, so if you would please—”

“I’m not leav—” Edward interrupted, but he didn’t get to finish the objection, and neither did Roy get a chance to chastise him for it. The moment he began to bellow the sentence, the same breath he used to growl his rebellion leapt back into his throat. “Hh-huh!— ihht’NtSHHch!!” He snapped forward into a gloved hand, pinching his nose much too late to halt the explosion. The gesture proved useless anyway, and with his brow scrunched into a hard furrow he whipped around, away from the audience of which only a moment ago he had so furiously commanded attention. His short frame lurched again. “UHPSHjhuu!! ih’XCHSHiU!!”

Edward’s back shuddered as he drew another shaky breath, but he clamped his fist over his nose to wrestle the oncoming reflex into submission. The evidence of his success escaped in a congested grumble, and he gave several cringeworthy sniffs before swiping his sleeve across his face.

Roy raised an eyebrow, studying the scowl Edward could now barely maintain through his drooping eyelids. A flicker of a smile peaked from the corner of the colonel’s lip at the sheer satisfaction of the elucidation. “I told you that you were going to catch a cold.”

“Shut up!” Edward retaliated, and he moved to whip his arm away from his face before he thought better of it, instead scrunching his nose once more into his sleeve with a final sniff. “It’s dothing. So dod’t change the subject.”

“We’re finished with the subject, Fullmetal. Now go utilize your day off and get some rest, before you contaminate my entire office.”

“I’b dot going to waste a whole day sleeping when there’s sobething I could be doing, and I’b dot leaving here until you give be sobething to go off of!”

The usual shrillness in his voice only grew sharper with the hoarse edge now grating it, and the pitch could have shattered glass, driving a shard through Roy’s already throbbing head. He pushed his pen so hard into his paper that it punctured an inky hole through the document. “Fine. You want to do something? Make yourself useful.” He scooped into the pile of paperwork to his left and slapped a hefty stack toward the edge of the desk. “I trust you know how to file reports. These all need to be finished by the end of the day. If I have enough time left when they’re all complete, then maybe I’ll see to getting you authorization to request confidential files from the library.”

Edward gritted his teeth, chewing one or two complaints he might have had with that offer, but even through his full-metal obstinacy, he knew this was the best deal he was going to get before being physically thrown from Mustang’s office. Relenting to the task, he plodded toward the desk, flashed a look he might give to a steaming pile of garbage, then crunched a fist around the thick of paper and whipped away with a gratuitous sniff.

“And do it over there,” Roy gestured away from his desk, “where you can keep your germs to yourself.”

Edward made a scoffing sound, which resulted in him having to wipe his sleeve under his nose again, and he trudged over to the coffee table on the other side of the room.

Finally. At this rate, even with Fullmetal’s help, he wouldn’t finish before he retired. Roy looked up to the lieutenant, whose sights still hadn’t disengaged from the ailing alchemist. Who’s not on track now? He tapped his paper with his pen as he pulled for her attention, hoping to signal to her to get back to work like she was so accustomed to doing to him.

The glare she pierced him with nearly knocked him out of his chair.

Her pupils locked onto him, as black and threatening as the barrels of her pistols, and they may as well have fired actual bullets for how brutally they struck. By instinct, he was almost inclined to throw his hands in the air in innocence just to avoid the barrage. Hawkeye showed no mercy, as the look he was fully aware she was capable of but had never yet been on the receiving end of burned into him, only sharpening as her eyebrows hardened, and he blinked back in utter confusion for what he did to deserve it.

Was she… scolding him?

“What?” Roy demanded, and the ferocity he received back made him wonder if his lieutenant was about to draw her real pistols. But before he could question her further—or run for cover—her firearm-stare withdrew back into its holsters, and she regained her stoic professionalism as swiftly as if she had flicked a switch. He stared on at her for a moment, hoping she might shine a little light on what he was being upbraided for, but she only resumed working as if there had been no interruption in the first place.

His head throbbed. Women, he thought to himself.

“HuhNGSHiXX!!”

Edward lurched on the other side of the room, his face scrunched up furiously into the sleeve of his coat. Roy’s eyes darted to the commotion for only a split second, before they jumped back to the lieutenant, and the split second was all it took for a change to wash over her once more.

She wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at Edward. And where only a moment ago her stare was rife with gunpowder, her eyes on the boy were soft, warm in their gaze like two mugs of hot chocolate. They lingered on the sick alchemist for only a second before turning back to their work.

Oh come on, Roy griped to himself, finally understanding her umbrage. He’s fine. And besides, it’s not like I’m forcing him to work. Edward had come on his own accord. If he were really that sick, he would have stayed in bed. And what did she want Roy to do, spoon feed the kid medicine and rub his back? It was just a cold. A sniffle and a little cough. The lieutenant was worrying—and scolding—over nothing.

But Riza Hawkeye didn’t see things that weren’t there…

Roy shook his head. He had still yet to complete so much as one leaf of the paperwork mountain, and he already had enough distractions clattering about in his head. As if in direct defiance of this thought, the instant he touched his pen down his attention was drawn again to the wet snuffling from the other end of the room. With little more progress into his own stack of work, Edward sniffed heartily through his sleeve as he scrubbed his forearm along his nose, and as the leaking feature reddened and he continued to assail it with his jacket, beneath the scarlet garment he looked much like the broken kid Mustang first saw when he walked through that door in Risembool four years ago…

Edward managed to gain control of his nose just long enough to pick up his pen, but before he could put it to use he was thrust into another wrestling match, this time with his lungs. His elbow soared right back up to his face as his body bent and curled around another coughing attack like someone was punching him in the stomach. The fit wracked his little frame for so long Roy began to wonder when he would emerge for a breath. The answer came when on the close of his choking, the air Edward managed to find flitted into his throat on a hitching inhale.

“HhKSHSH’ihh!!”

Yet again the boy’s entire body convulsed forward, and the sneeze left him blinking like he was coming out of a coma. Edward coughed again, then sniffed, and Roy was certain that that sleeve was not going to hold out until the end of the day. Resigning to the distraction, he scooted back out of his chair and crossed the room, fishing in his pocket for a handkerchief.

“Here.” He tossed the rag at his subordinate’s face, which Edward accepted with the predictable glower. “You’re a mess, Fullmetal. Just go back to your room and sleep it off, then come back tomorrow and I’ll get you your library access.”

“Huh!” Edward laughed, congestion crackling through the sound. “You bean so you cad lock be out? Dice t-heh…try, but dot—hyih-ih’GSSHiuu! … HuhtCHSSH’h!!—nguh… dot habbening.”

Mustang pinched the spot between his eyebrows. “I’m trying to do you a favor here, Elric. You’d be wise to take it, because it’s not going to happen again.”

“I told you already, I’b dot going back to by roob.” He coughed into his fist before continuing. “So udless you wadda gib be that info dow, I’b dot going adywhere.”

Any pity Roy had managed to muster was quickly incinerated by his kindling fury for the boy’s attitude. “Well don’t blame me if you come down with pneumonia.” He turned to retreat to his desk, but before he did jabbed a finger at Edward’s paper. “Clean up your handwriting. I expect these to be neat. And blow your nose, I can hardly understand you.”

He trod back to his desk, much to the grumbling of the sniffling teenager.

The lieutenant didn’t spare him so much as a glance when he slumped back into his chair, though that didn’t make him any safer from her line of fire. Well, you can’t say I didn’t try. Next she was probably going to scold him for not getting anything done. He snatched his pen that he had yet to make sufficient use of. He was going to finish this work by the end of the day even if the rain brought the whole building down around him. No more distractions. No. More. Distractions.

The door burst open so hard it almost exploded off its hinges.

“Roy!!! How’s the paperwork treatin’ ya? Probably almost done, right???”

It wasn’t a voice he hated hearing. Hell, there were times—more times than he could count—when that trill that sang his daughter’s praises, and that stupid grin that puckered up to his eyes and exploded fireworks, were the very things that kept Roy from hating everything in the world.

But dammit, Hughes, do you have to barge in NOW?

“Does a closed door mean anything to anybody anymore?” Roy grumbled, resisting the urge to let his desk double as a headrest.

Maes Hughes flicked a heel behind him, swinging the door shut. “It wasn’t locked.”

Roy tried to fix his friend with a hard stare, but was certain he wasn’t able to pull off anything more than a look of fatigue. “What is your business, Hughes?”

The lank man smiled through a shadow of scruff, the grin almost hiding the other lines on his face. He held up a new thick of paper over the one on Roy’s desk, and it wobbled in his waving clutch before he slapped it down on the stack. “More joy for the pile of fun.”

“Wonderful.” Roy scratched something intelligible enough over the sheet in front of him and drew a new one from the growing tower. “Anything else?”

“As a matter of fact,” Hughes dug through his front pocket, “there was one more thing I wanted to show you… Ah! Here it is. WE TOOK LITTLE ELICIA TO THE PARK THE OTHER DAY! LOOK AT HER SPLASHING AROUND THE PUDDLES IN HER ITTY BITTY BOOTS!” The lieutenant colonel that stood before him with such firm competence only a second ago now wiggled like a limp noodle as he danced with the handful of photographs he produced from his coat. He shoved one after the other toward Roy’s face. “We bundled her up like a little bug in a rug so she wouldn’t be cold! She looooooved playing around in her new raincoat! Wait until you see the ones of her feeding the ducks. She waddled right up to them and—”

Roy’s jaw clenched, ready to growl his annoyance and shut up his over-zealous friend, when a disturbance from the other end of the room curtailed Hughes’s ramble instead. Edward’s cough was choked off in the folds of his jacket, but despite his attempts to smother himself, the fit possessed him as he gulped in a breath of air, occupying him for a good ten seconds after Hughes stopped talking. The sparkling beam on his comrade’s face dulled to a flat line as he shuffled the photographs back into his pocket. When the young alchemist resumed his normal breathing, Hughes gave him a cordial wave.

“Hi, Ed! Didn’t see ya hiding over there. So, Roy’s recruited you for the job too, huh? Boy, you sure run a tight ship, Colonel! Making your subordinates work on their day off and when they’re sick.”

“I’m not making him work!” Roy protested, which rang in perfect synch with Edward’s own objection of “I’m not sick!”

Hughes raised an eyebrow at Edward, then turned the same gaze to Roy, and after a moment of everyone refusing to speak he shared a more prolonged look with Lieutenant Hawkeye; one that Roy, to much irritation, couldn’t read.

“Was there anything else of import,” Roy cut in, “or would you like to grab a chair and help us with this pile of fun, as you called it?”

Hughes shook his head. “Oh no, I’ve got my own pile of fun to get to.” He crossed around the back of Roy’s desk, turning back to wave once more in farewell. “See ya, Ed!”

Edward whipped up as if a trumpet had roused him from a half-slumber, his darkened eyes blinking widely over their glossy surfaces. His head bobbled for a moment before his sight settled on Hughes. Then he tossed up a half-hearted wave. “B-hih…bye—” His gaze crumpled, and he barely finished the farewell before wrenching away, yet again, into his over-used sleeve. “HEH’kSHjSH!! IhhTSHhhuu!! Hh!—huh…”

Edward’s chest jumped up and down, fluttering spastically as he continued to draw tiny hitches of air, only to be tormented and lose them again. His arm hovered near his face, but as his features collapsed to his breath and his head cranked back, he seemed to abandon his plan for use of it, and with a loss of awareness for the rest of his surroundings he buckled to the fit that refused to go quietly. “HihhKGSHhiiu!! hh-hh! HUH’t—!… UhtSHjXSH’ih!! ‘NtSHhuu! Hhyuh-IHGkSHch!!… nguhh… huh…. HAH’tCHSShUU!!!”

As the last sneeze ripped through him, his body followed the force of it into the couch, sweeping his feet off the floor and tangling him in his own coat. After a moment of thrashing to get himself upright, Edward shook himself free of the knotting garment, his frazzled hair barely hiding a rouged face.

“Gesundheit…” Hughes said, his eyes fixed on Edward in mild awe. Roy fired them both a glare, then turned back to his reports and tried to ignore everyone in the room.

A moment went by of nothing but pen-scratching and sniffling. When it was clear that the conversation was dead and buried, Hughes turned to make his departure.

“Ya know,” the lieutenant colonel stopped behind Roy’s shoulder, speaking in a tone too soft to reach the far corner, “he doesn’t want you to baby him.”

Roy’s spine locked as he snapped up. “I’m not babying him!”

Hughes let out a humorless guffaw. “Oh believe me, I can see that.”

“Then why even comment?”

His friend let out a sigh and shook his head, and when he didn’t answer Roy surmised Hughes was just going to continue his parade with Lieutenant Hawkeye of being completely ambiguous and assuming he knows what the hell they are thinking. Roy huffed, ready to throw all three of them out of his office. Then Hughes bent down closer to his ear.

“He doesn’t want you to baby him,” he repeated placidly. “Which means, he’s probably a hell of a lot sicker than he’s letting on.”

Roy threw a wrinkled look up to his friend, but Hughes merely stepped away and continued his slow march toward the door. He glanced back to Edward.

This is getting ridiculous, Roy thought. You people are the ones who are babying him. He’s the one who barged in here. HE’S the one who is making himself work. If he were really sick he would… he’d…

Roy watched the Fullmetal Alchemist, the boy’s blonde hair shaggy over his darkened eyes, his back hunched over the little table as he twisted away into his shoulder to conceal another prolonged sniff. The tenacious posture quaked as it broke to a roll of coughing.

If he were really sick… he would do everything in his power to hide it.

Roy stood up from his chair, mentally cursing the fucking pile of paperwork that was never going to get done today as he did so, and moved once more across the room. Edward didn’t acknowledge his approach in any way, and it wasn’t until Roy was hovering directly over him that he wondered if the weathered teen even noticed his presence. Roy studied him, trying to find a tell, trying to see something that Hughes and the lieutenant obviously picked up on, but was still obscure to him. When he couldn’t find it, he gave up searching, and planted a palm right over Edward’s forehead.

“HEY!” Edward reeled out from under his touch, swinging his own arms on the offensive as if to counter another attack. “Whatd’ya think you’re doing!? Get your hand off me!”

“Get up. Now.”

“I thought you wanted me to make myself useful!”

Roy plunged his hand back through the boy’s bangs, securing a latch over his forehead so he couldn’t pull away again.

“Are you crazy!? Knock it off! Stop touching me!”

“You’re burning up, Fullmetal.” A fire burned in his own core as fury licked his insides. “Your temperature is way too high. So get up. I’m taking you back to your room. And that’s an order.”

Edward set his jaw, then swallowed hard, and for a fraction of a moment something flickered across his face that made his eyes go wide, like two soft bulbs straining with their last wave of light. It lasted just long enough to sink a hook into Roy’s gut, but before he could alter his charge Edward’s expression sharpened into a scowl, though that proved to be just as fleeting, as not a second later his hardened eyes gave way to a fluttering, and another order seized him entirely.

“HuhuhTNSHH’iU!” Edward pitched sideways into his glove, pinching the bottom half of his face in a vain attempt to contain the explosion. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if trying to clear a daze, and then the assault came again. “IhpCHSHhUu!!”

Roy waited to see if he was going to do it again, and when he didn’t, he grabbed the woozy alchemist by the arm before the kid could regain his bearings enough to put up a fight.

“Hey wait a second! You can’t just—”

“Go back to your room. Get in bed. Stay there until tomorrow and take the day off I granted you.” Edward staggered as Roy hauled him across the room, missing enough steps to fall on his face had Roy not kept a firm grip on his elbow. Edward tugged weakly against his hold all the way to the door, and Roy began to anticipate a scuffle to actually get him through.

Then the tugging stopped.

Edward dragged his feet along, continuing to follow Roy’s guidance, but something was wrong. Roy slowed, keeping a latch on his arm should he retaliate, and looked down at his subordinate. Edward was still moving, albeit stumbling, but the fight in him had completely evaporated. A glazed look fell over him, and where not long ago his cheeks glowed with the heat of his fever, his whole face now became ashen.

“Hey, Fullmetal,” Roy gave his arm a light shake. “Are you alright?”

“I’m—shut up…” Edward’s voice lacked the abrasiveness of the words, like his tongue barely had the energy to form them, and as he continued to ramble the fifteen-year-old almost sounded drunk. “‘M fine, I—what are you… I’m not—”

Roy saw him teeter just as the weight slumped from his grip. Had he not already been at the boy’s side, he would have missed him. As Edward’s eyes sunk beneath their sockets, Roy caught the last of his collapsing frame just before his head could crack into the floor.

“Hey! Fullmetal!” Roy slapped his fingers against his pale cheek. His chest moved up and down as air escaped through his parted lips. But he did not open his eyes. “Edward!”

When the alchemist didn’t respond, Roy turned to Lieutenant Hawkeye, who was already at his side.

“Call the infirmary,” he ordered her. “Tell them to have a bed ready.”

*****
TO BE CONTINUED...

[Nas]

I can't even describe how I feel right now. I laughed out loud a few times during this part, and that almost never happens. The part where Riza was glaring at Roy was just so great and in-character. Also that part with Hughes just like showing up and talking about his daughter and then giving Mustang advice about Ed, was just so funny and totally spot-on. And omg, Ed refusing to leave and just being all sick and rude. XD. Did I already say that I love your spellings? Because I do.

Aaa, and I think it's so cute that Ed tried to hide his illness and was burning up. :3. I'm pretty much melting into a puddle right now. Thank you soooooo much for this part, I think I'm going to re-read this like four more times today. XD. And seriously don't feel like you have to rush; I understand. <33

[Arty]

*just stares *

Perfection. Everyone's characters are spot on. It's like you're writing the lost episode of the show! This would have been a great episode.

[SapphireSong]

*deep breath*

ALIAS YOU WONDERFUL PERSON YOU~~~ *hugs and squees* Please don't beat yourself up for taking so long, this was 110% WORTH THE WAIT OMGGGG

Seriously. Dude. Um. Words.

I guess first I'll apologize for not getting around to commenting on the first part, which is ALSO AMAZINGLY FANTASTIC UGH xDD;; but hopefully I can make up for it for gushing over this one?

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO.

This is -- how do I even describe how much I love this? IT'S INSANELY GOOD HOLY FUCK. I'll try to break it down into more coherent feedback but sjdfklSDJfklsdfjkdlfjsdklfFJKDLGF I JUST REALLY LOVE IT OKAY

Ahem. Let's see.

First of all, your descriptions and characterizations are masterfully done. I can't even tell you how many times I grinned at one of Roy's sarcastic mental quips or winced sympathetically at his observations of Ed.... I'd quote them but I'd probably end up quoting the whole thing tbh xDD;;; But seriously, when I read your writing I feel satisfied and entertained in a way that not many writers can do for me, and I absolutely love it.

Your characterization really deserves a separate mention for itself, by the way. Like I've said before, it's been at least two years since I watched or read any FMA - but your writing pulls me right back into it all. Your scene-building, dialogue, perspectives, everything is spot-on with the canon I know and love, and honestly I feel like I'm seeing an episode of it. Or reading a novelization. You have every single character down, and I can hear their voices in my head, feel the tensions and tenderness and every emotion between them. I love how you're portraying Hawkeye - not many FMA writers can capture her complexity and layers and heart, so it makes me really happy that you do. And really, it's the same with every other character you've written here: You delve deep into who they are, into their experiences and thoughts and desires, and it is truly beautiful.

And then, of course, there's the sickfic aspect of it all.

Here's where I want to fangirl to high heavens, because DAMN YOU PUSH ALL MY BUTTONS. However I already did plenty of squealing at the beginning so I'm going to endeavor to just tell you what I like about it all xDDD;; Sooo in no particular order: I LOVE how miserable Ed is, and how hard he's trying to hide it. I feel really bad for him already...... but in that sorry-not-sorry way. Your descriptions are amazing - I can feel his suffering and it's great xDD;; not to mention your spellings, omg they're fantastic and lovely and painful and GUH. PLUS THE CARETAKING STUFF IS AWESOME~~~ I love how Roy, true to form, is super annoyed and disgusted and irritated about it all while Riza and Hughes are concerned, but then when he finally stops complaining long enough to pay attention to Ed he's just like ......ohhh shit. xDD;;; Him ordering Ed to bed is adorable <3

......AND THEN ED FAINTING OMG I'M O.O sdjfklsdfjklf I'm really picky about extreme things like that, and you did it exactly how I like it - the good mix of feels and seriousness but also caring and ugh I don't know if I'm even making sense but IT'SSOGOOD. T.T The poor guy!!! I can't wait for the next part, I just love Roy and Ed interactions xDDD

Sooo yeah this got long But I had to tell you how much I love this before I forget or procrastinate ^^;;; This is amazing and I'm so glad you posted it! I look forward to the rest, and anything else you write.

[Pyrus_Fangmon]

^^^^^^ Yes yes and YES!!! Everything they have said before me and more!!

I can't even-how-what!?!?!?

My poor little Alchemist! There is too much love for this!

:heart:

[Sitruuna]

Mmmmmm

Nom

Nice update B )

And there's a saying in Finnish that is usually used when someone complains how something is taking so long but which I could use to reply to the waiting thing but it's in Finnish so 8)

But

Good stuff is worth waiting so (and I am saying this as just a random person who likes your story since this is ss for someone else) you shouldn't worry about taking how ever long you need to take to post the next part (:

[SpookyBoi]

Next part please! 

[Ciuty80]

Oh yesssss! Please more!