Chapter Text
There was so much noise around him, it made his head spin. The scent of food in his nostrils made his stomach twist. The bright light did nothing to help with his headache.
I should've stayed home, Ed thought grimly. But how could he refuse this offer? Gracia was throwing a Christmas party for Mustang’s team and some other friends, a thing that was an unofficial tradition even when Hughes was still alive, and became a more solid, every year kind of thing after he was murdered. As far as Ed knew no one dared to refuse her invitation unless they had a damn good reason. Ed usually spent the holidays back in Resenbool with Al and Winry, but when he woke up this morning feeling the way he did, he figured it was smarter not to take a six hours train ride. He was planning on being home alone, feeling miserable and sorry for himself, but when Gracia called, sounding so happy that she managed to catch him before he left (had he really left she would have been about an hour late, but he did not mention that to her) to wish him happy holidays, and he opened his big mouth to say that he was staying in Central this year, and she invited him over, he simply couldn't say no. Also in the morning he didn't feel this bad. A light headache, occasional nausea that didn't develop into anything that forced him to dash to the restroom but just caused a little bit uneasiness in his stomach. It was only when he woke up from his that he realized just how bad his situation was. But by then he barely had time to throw some clothes on and take a taxi to Gracia's, and certainly he could not cancel now. Not after she had already prepared a meal for an additional person on such a last minute notice. So he decided to power through, swallow a pill or two, get through the evening and then spend the rest of the time until his body decided it was done fighting whatever this in bed, covered in the two blankets he had at his little apartment and feeling miserable.
He just hoped he could make it through the meal without being sick.
At the beginning it was almost easy. He could fight the headache and even have conversations, although his rate of answering the wrong question were much higher than his usual, but it didn’t seem to bother people too much. But as time progressed and the pill he took seemed to have started to wear off, it became more and more difficult. It became harder to listen to people and decipher what came out of their mouths as actual words rather than random noise, intensified by his over sensitive senses. Moving became gradually more difficult, the slightest attempt becoming a fight as every limb, every cell, felt heavy. He knew that Gracia’s house was probably warm enough, and the ten or so people packed in the relatively small space surely just made the air hotter, but Ed had never felt colder in his life - not even when he went to Briggs and nearly got frostbites from his automail in the snow. The world around him was becoming a blur of noises and colorful bright lights and all he wanted was to crawl up somewhere dark and warm and pretend he did not feel like throwing up.
“Hey, Ed. Edward,” the voice, so close and therefore so loud, made Ed grunt in pain as he painfully forced himself to look up from the floor. He did not even realize that he was staring at it, although considering the effort he had to put into seeing and how suddenly his senses were attacked by the strong lights, he realized that maybe in fact he was not staring at anything since his eyes were probably closed. “Ed. It’s dinner time. Get up.” He blinked a few times and managed to recognize the voice as Havoc, although telling him apart from the blinding shapes around him was still tough. Ed placed his palms on the sofa and tried to push himself up, but it seemed a near impossible mission. “What is wrong? Are you not feeling well?”
The understatement of the year. Ed managed to lift his face enough to glare at Havoc, but seeing the worried look on his face made him bite the snarky remark back. Instead he gathered all the strength he had and put it into pushing himself up, getting on his feet although he was still somewhat wobbly. “I’m fine,” he managed, but almost immediately regretted giving a verbal answer as his own voice sounded like yelling in his skull, creating a choking feeling in his throat and threatening to thrash his attempts at holding the content of his stomach, close to nothing as it was, inside. He tried to step towards where he knew the table was, but his legs - even the automail one - felt too weak to hold up his weight.
He considered his options. He could either force himself to somehow make it to the dinner table, sit with everyone and suffer, but mostly hoping he can make it through the dinner with some dignity and without disgusting anyone with an unforgettable display of his stomach’s abilities. Or he could give in to the way he feels and be safe on the couch. It wasn’t like he believed he could force anything down his throat.
The second option was so tempting he almost allowed himself to collapse back to the seat, but he instead dragged himself a step closer to the dining table, which seemed to more and more resemble a circus as everyone found their seats around it.
A strong arm suddenly held him, and if he wasn’t so weak, he might have gave in to the feral instinct to snarl. As it was, all he managed to do was let out an annoyed grunt. “Hey, hey, Ed, you sure you’re fine?”
Ed opened his eyes. He didn’t even realize he closed them, but as soon as all the lights hit his cornea again he understood why he closed them. He could see Havoc next to him, looking at him with that worried look on his face. A glace sideways told Ed that the arm that was holding him was Havoc’s, and that apparently he was a few seconds away from falling to the floor.
“Jean, I think maybe he should go home.”
As much as Ed hated to be referred to in third person when he was around, he had to agree with the speaker – who was a woman, and was vaguely registered as Gracia in his brain. This suspicion was confirmed when she turned to him, the proximity and knowing he was being addressed to made him look. “Ed, you seem to be very sick. I am going to call a taxi for you, okay? Do you feel well enough to get home? You can also rest in the guest bedroom, if you want.” She paused. “Maybe that would be better. I think you should stay here – “
“No,” Ed managed, weakly cutting through her words. He couldn’t stay here and take advantage of her hospitality. She was busy enough with this dinner, and he was sure that it would continue once everyone else is gone, with the cleaning and all that. He couldn’t be an extra burden. He did not want to stay here and keep her and Elicia awake with his sickness; and he did not know if he was contagious. He could not risk it. He should not have come at all. “Thanks… but I think maybe its better that I just go home. I’m sorry…” He was being put back on the couch, probably by Havoc. He welcomed the seat, annoyed at how much he needed the extra support. He could sense how everyone were now crowding around him. He hated being the center of the attention. If they could all just leave him alone – enjoy the holiday dinner and let him dwell in his own misery until he can get home to his bed – he might be able to survive until the taxi will get here without hurling.
“You can barely stand! I really think it is better if you stay here.”
“It’s alright, I can go with him and make sure he makes it home.”
A new voice. He knew who it was – well, of course he knew, he knew everyone in this room, or at least almost everyone. But he couldn’t bring himself to lift his eyes, and for some reason the only way the voice registered in his brain was a nameless warmth. Not that it mattered. He did not need a babysitter.
“No it’s fine, I can take him, but I think Gracia’s right, he looks like it would be the best not to move him.” That was Havoc again, he thought.
Damn, he hated being talked about like this. “Thanks, but – I’m good. Just tell me when the cab gets here, I can make it. ‘m fine.” But he barely convinced himself – slumped against the couch, his head beating with the noises of people talking around him, about him and the bright lights of the room.
He felt a hand touching his forehead. He wanted to slap it away, but couldn’t bring himself to lift his arm. “You have fever, Edward. I can’t let you go alone.”
“No, I – “
“It’s really okay. I was not going to stay late anyway. Sadly I have to be at the office tomorrow.”
Ed heard some murmurs of sympathy, mostly directed at Roy Mustang but some were also directed at him. It made him realize that the person who spoke earlier offering to take him home was probably his former CO. There was no way in hell he was going to let Mustang take him home. “No – there really – there’s no need. I can make it – “ he tried getting up again, but found himself being pushed back to the seat almost immediately. Not that he really felt that he would be able to support his weight. Maybe Gracia was right. But he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t become this burden to her. The woman had been through enough. “It’s fine, really. I just… need to get home and sleep.”
“Yes, dear, sleep would do you good.”
“I will go get a taxi for him.”
“Thank you Jean.”
He heard movement, and it seemed that Havoc had left. Certainly there was a change in the air around him as people changed. If they could all just leave him alone…
He really should have trusted his instincts and should not have come here this evening.
*
Holiday shifts were the worse shifts. No one ever wanted to take those for obvious reasons, and yet, they had to be manned. Roy often volunteered to take on the worst of them, such as Christmas, since he, unlike most other officers in his rank, had no family to return to. No blood family, anyway, except for his aunt, but that could hardly count in the same breath as a wife and kids, or aging parents. And she tended not to throw any dinners for the holidays, which usually were excellent time for business, with all the lonely people feeling extra lonely during this time of the year. He and the other bachelor officer in the HQ took turns on the holidays. Usually one would do the evening, and the other the morning. This year Roy had his Christmas evening free, but he had to show up to replace General Wahl at seven am. He was glad he could join the Christmas dinner Gracia hosted.
It was fun seeing everyone, especially in an out-of-work context. He was a little bit sad that he had to cut it short, without even enjoying Gracia’s cooking (although he did have a generous portion in the box she shoved into his hands). But it was for a good cause.
He glanced left at the figure sitting next to him. Edward looked – bad. Roy agreed with Gracia that the best thing would have been for him to stay there and sleep in the extra room, but he knew from first-hand experience that the young man could be extremely stubborn, even when injured and bleeding in a hospital bed – so definitely with the flu. They could probably force him, but nothing good would have come out of it. So he volunteered to take him home, since there was no way to send him on his own. There was no guarantee he could make it to his door. After all, he couldn't even make it to the dining table without almost tripping – twice. Someone had to make sure he made it to his bed. Since Roy had to wake up early tomorrow, and therefore leave early, when as far as he knew no one else had any obligations to get to in the morning except maybe opening some presents, it only made sense it would be him.
Besides, Edward hated feeling weak, and more than that, hated when people noticed and got worried. He was not going to be pleased when he gets well enough to comprehend what’s going on around him; and Roy preferred to be the person who gets the fury, hoping maybe he still has some authority to him in Edward's eyes even though he had not been his subordinate for the past nine years.
Roy found himself chuckling softly. As if he had any authority over Edward Elric aka the Fullmetal Alchemist aka the Hero of People even when he was his commanding officer.
“What's so funny, bastard?” the weak murmur next to him made Roy look sideways. He thought Edward fell asleep, but apparently he was wrong. Maybe lights were bothering him so he kept his eyes closed.
Roy’s heart ached at the sight. He wanted to ease the pain, but he wasn’t sure how. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen the elder Elric this weak or vulnerable; not even when he was so badly hurt in a fight he was forced into a hospital bed for a week. The only thing he could do was make sure he made it home safely. “Nothing, Edward. I was just thinking about a joke Gracia said earlier this evening, that’s all.” He knew that in any other situation Edward would not swallow this bait. He knew he would call him out on his lie; but he hoped that in his current state he will not have the capacity to see through Roy’s act. How could he explain to him that he wasn’t laughing, but appreciating who Edward was? The boy he used to be, already so independent and wise already at twelve, and the young man he grew to become. Never controlled but just all the same.
“Mm,” was all the response he got. Even if he hoped in his current state Edward will not catch his lie, he still hoped he will be stronger than this. Strong enough to form a sentence, or, at least, a whole word. He glanced at the road, recognizing the street they were passing through as a few blocks away from the area where Edward lived. They still had about ten minutes, he assumed, before arriving at Edward’s apartment. He looked again at the young man sitting next to him. Ten minutes sounded like too long. He looked... small. With his shoulders slouched and his head bowed down even as it was resting against the window, he looked like the only thing preventing him from rolling himself up to a ball was the car seat and the belt holding him in his place. His arms were wrapped around himself as if that little touch could warm up his shivering body, even though little buds of sweat were gathering on his forehead.
Roy’s heart was breaking at the sight. It did not seem pleasurable to be Edward Elric right now. He wondered what devil possessed him when he made the decision to leave his house today and come for the party, when so clearly he should be in bed, resting, preferably with a cup of hot tea waiting to be consumed. “You should stay away from the window, it’s cold out there,” he said and reached to pull Edward away from the window, trying to make him instead rest his head on the head rest of his seat; but instead it seemed like Roy's body heat was attracting him as Edward was now seeking him, pushing his head, weak as he was, into Roy's touch. It was tempting to pull him closer, but he knew that if Edward was in any other state than the sick, weak mess he was now, he would probably break his arm for even getting this close; and he knew that if he remembered this when he felt better, the result will be more or less the same.
He was already pulling his hand away to leave Edward's head leaning on the chair when he heard it. It was low; as weak as the man himself, and Roy wasn’t even sure he really heard it. The soft rumbling sound coming from deep in Edward's throat. Was Roy imagining, or was Edward purring at his touch?
Roy did not dare return his arm to where it was, and instead let it rest in his lap. Edward's eyes were closed and he did not move from how Roy placed him, his only movement is the slight shaking of the car, and the heaving of his chest as he breathed. The sound disappeared, leaving only the noise of the car and the sound of Edward's breathing, but Roy was sure he heard it. Of course, even if he was indeed right and Edward purred, that did not necessarily mean that it was directed at Roy in a positive way. While purring can certainly indicate happiness, it could just as much indicate fear or feeling threatened, and sometimes it was a reaction to being sick. There was no need to read too much into it. Roy looked away, fixing his stare on the road in front of them.
He almost sighed in relief when the taxi finally pulled over. He got out, rushing to the other side of the car to help Edward out as well. He expected him to protest, but all he got was a weak ‘I can walk alone’ and an unconvincing push, combined with Edward almost tripping the moment Roy let go of him. It did not seem like Edward could make his way home on his own, no matter how much he insisted he could. Roy glanced at the building they stopped next to; it had four floors. Roy doubted it would have any kind of a lift, and he had to assume Edward would live on the top floor. He could not leave him here.
Letting out a sigh he turned to the taxi driver and paid the fare. “Can you wait here a few minutes?” he asked. On a Christmas evening, at this time, he doubted it would be very easy to get another taxi. Especially in this part of town, which while not too far, wasn’t exactly central ether.
“Make it quick,” the driver said, taking the money and turning off the engine. Roy could swear he heard him muttering something about viruses and irresponsible sick people, but at least it seemed like he was going to wait, and that was the important point. He said a quick thanks and turned his attention back to Edward. He managed to walk a few steps towards the gate leading to the building, but he didn’t get too far. Roy wondered if he had made the right choice, taking him rather than to a hospital; but Edward Elric was notorious for his hatred of hospitals, and if this could be solved by a few days in bed, then it would be much preferred.
He rushed to his side and took his arm. “I’ll help you get to your apartment. What floor you’re on?”
“I don’t need your goddamned help, Mustang. Can get to my own home alone.”
“Of course you can. Let me feel better about myself by seeing you to your door?” Roy tried a different approach. It was cold, the chill breeze hitting his cheeks and nose and threatening to freeze his over. Edward delaying outside in this weather could not be good for whatever disease he managed to catch, flu or something else.
“Your ego doesn’t need and help either.”
“You are probably right, but my conscious could use some help especially in this season. Your floor?” He managed to get him to the entrance door. It was much faster with him supporting Edward’s arm. A low grunt next to him told him that Edward probably started to understand that too.
“Fourth. Room number 407.”
Just as Roy suspected. He glanced at the road, seeing that the taxi was still there. He hoped he would keep his promise, and a part of him regretted already paying him – but he figured that the driver might not feel too good about letting them both walk away without paying, even with Roy’s promise to return. He opened the gate and walked through, supporting Edward’s weight just enough to make sure he wouldn’t fall and will walk at a reasonable pace. He knew it was important that he would feel that he can walk on his own, or his rage will force Roy away, and this all be for naught.
He waited for Edward to unlock the building’s main door before they made their sluggish way up the stairs. The building was relatively old, from what Roy could see, but not badly kept. It seemed to be clean, and the light at the common area was on, even if flickering at times. Roy assumed this place was mostly occupied by young people who spent the holiday at their parents’ place, rather than at their own, as the place seemed relatively quiet. Floor by floor they climbed up the stairs, and Edward did not say a word. Roy wondered if the climb was taking too much effort out of him, considering if perhaps he should support more of his weight, but he seemed to be holding on and so Roy chose not to risk losing the permission to support him completely.
Eventually they made it to the fourth floor. “On the right,” Edward muttered, and Roy turned right, following the numbers on the doors leading him towards number 407. When they arrived, Edward took out his keys again, and reached for the door; but it seemed that the climb up the stairs took larger a toll on him than either of them realized. The keys’ ring as they hit the floor echoed through the empty space of the building’s common area, and so did Edward’s hissed swear.
“I’ll get it,” Roy said and let go of Edward as he picked it up. When he got up, he saw that Edward shifted, and now supported his weight on the wall as Roy was no longer holding him. Any thoughts of leaving Edward at the entrance and letting him find his way inside his own apartment evaporated at the sight. Even though a part of him still hesitated to enter – after all, a person’s home was very personal and intimate, and he doubted he had that kind of closeness with his former subordinate – it was clear to him that he could not just leave Edward here. He’d already come this far. He glanced at Edward before he placed the key in its designated hole. With his eyes closed and bowed head, it seemed that he had a non-verbal permission to do so.
With the door open, he reached out to Edward again, supporting him as he gently pulled him away from the door and encouraging him to lean on him instead of the wall, and he stepped into Edward’s apartment.
It was much warmer than the outside, which was already a relief. Looking at the building a part of him feared that the isolation will not be the best, which meant it would take a while to warm the place up, and Edward needed to be in a cozy, warm place now. He paused at the entrance, looking at the wall to locate the light switch.
“On your left, just under eye-level,” Edward said, his voice still weak and strained. Roy had a feeling that even hearing his own voice, even as quiet as it was now, was painful. His heart ached, and he wanted to find a way to ease the pain, but other than getting Edward somewhere he could lay down and hand him pain medicine he couldn’t think of many ways to help. He reached toward his left side, feeling his way on the wall until his fingers finally hit that elusive switch and clicked on it. Immediately they were drowned in light, and next to him Edward let out a grunt of pain. A quick glance showed Roy that he brought his hand to his eyes, shielding them from the offensive brightness.
“Sorry,” Roy found himself saying. He scanned the room, looking for a suitable place for Edward. The realization that he had never actually been here hit him as he took in the layout of the apartment. They have known each other for years, and for the past year or so, Roy would have even considered them almost friends. Edward no longer worked for him; it was clear to everyone that he was not cut for the military life, and so once he no longer needed the advantages the system could provide him, and once he departed with his brother, and especially with the loss of his alchemy, it was no surprise that he never returned to the military. For years Roy was sure he would never see him again; let alone be in almost regular touch with him. So when the letter he received from Alphonse, with whom he kept a semi regular touch by letters, telling him that Edward had found a job as a researcher in Central and will be getting there soon and might settle there for a while, along with a subtle request to try and soften his move and a subtext of please-help-my-socially-incapable-brother-not-feel-too-lonely, Roy was more than happy to reach out and locate the older Elric.
When he saw him again for the first time after so long, he was surprised. He has grown. No longer the teenager that used to give Roy more headaches than anyone else while still being his most brilliant subordinate, he was now clearly a young man. His fashion changed from the signature flamboyant red coat and hideous leather pants; he was dressed in simple earth toned attire, definitely more mature than his former fashion choices. By now, Roy did not remember exactly what it was, but his style remained more or less consistent every time he saw him since – dark pants, with a typically lighter sweater in the colder days, or a buttoned up casual shirt for the warmer days. He still wore his hair long, but most of the time it was tied up in a ponytail instead of the braid he used to have when he was younger.
His behavior was more mature now as well. He no longer exploded at the smallest mention of his height, which was a shame, really, since it was so much fun to tease him about it when he was younger. Though if Roy had to be honest, there wasn’t much to tease about anymore. Edward had grown, and was now almost the same height as himself, a fact that Roy felt very clearly now as he was supporting him. He still had his sassy attitude, though he polished it to a more sophisticated version, and he still had his humor, and he seemed to have kept his tendency to give more of himself than he took. Roy made a point out of not using that tendency.
Despite all those changes, Roy, for some reason, expected Edward’s apartment to look more like he pictured his living space as a teenager: messy, bold and full of skulls and spikes and the likes. But although he wouldn’t really use the word ‘tidy’ to describe the small apartment, it certainly was not messy. A few clothes hanging about, probably when he took them off when he got into the place last time: a jacket resting on a chair’s back, a pair of clearly used socks on the floor by the two-seat sofa. A few books, some closed, some resting open and face-down on the coffee table, and next to them two clearly used mugs, maybe from coffee, maybe from tea, maybe something else, and a plate with half a toast. Regular lived-in space, homey despite the minimal and simple furnishing, but not dirty by any means. It felt almost cozy, in its own way.
“I can really make it from here, you know. Don’t have to be here.”
Roy turned his head back to Edward. Even though he said he would be alright without him he made no move to get away from Roy’s hold, and his voice did not sound too convincing. With the way he was staying close, a little bit leaning towards the heat Roy’s body was creating, and the slight reluctance he thought he could hear in his voice, a small part of Roy started to think that his ears were not deceiving him back in the cab. He fixed his hold a little and shut the door behind him using the hand that did not support Edward. “I know,” he said. “Where would you feel comfortable?” Where is your bedroom? Was the more accurate question, but something in Roy felt like it would be inappropriate. He felt like even stepping in the apartment was invading a private part of Edward’s life he was not meant to be allowed into; the bedroom felt even more like a sanctuary, a safe haven for Edward which he chose very carefully the people he allowed in.
Roy doubted he fit in that category, even with their occasional coffee meet-ups.
But his sofa seemed a little too small to lay on comfortably, and if there was one thing he was sure of it was that Edward should rest as much as he can, and preferably as comfortable as possible.
The delay in a response made him think that perhaps Edward lost consciousness, but a worried glance told him that at least physically, he was still awake. He was not the only one hesitating, then. He was probably thinking the same thoughts as Roy did. “Second door to the left,” he said eventually, and Roy led him exactly there, placing the bag from Gracia on the first table he spotted along the way. He crossed the living room and walked by the first door which apparently led to the bathroom, and walked towards the second door. It was partially open, inviting with a warning. It was dark, but Roy did not need light to know what hid in the shadows. He could feel the weight of invading someone’s privacy, that certain type of eerie, almost taboo-ish feeling. It grew when Edward stretched against his hold and clicked the switch that turned on the light. He flinched at the brightness again, but less than when they entered the apartment. “Be careful,” he said. His voice sounded even weaker than before, as if being so close to where he can finally rest and sleep this disease away was draining the last bits of his energy.
Roy wondered about the warning, but when he looked at the room again and saw the few items thrown over the floor, he sort of understood. Other than that, it was very simply furnished, like the living room; only a closet, one of its doors hanging open, showing the clothes that rested inside – some in disarray, some still folded relatively neatly. He could see a hint of a hanging area, and a shirt that was probably hanged in there and its sleeve was caught between a shelf and the door. There was a body length mirror standing nearby, but a pair of dress pants were hiding half of it, hinting that Edward might have planned to wear it again instead of throw it to the laundry, or that he changed his mind before choosing something else to wear. There was a shelf right next to it, a small portion at the area closest to the mirror held some personal items, a hair brush, deodorant, a few random items. Its other side held books, mostly literature but there was one book Roy recognized from his own library as the new edition of the foundation of alchemy. And then there was the bed. It seemed a little on the small size – but Roy’s standards were messed up from the two extremes in his own life. For him, it was either his own bed at home, which he had made a point out of buying a king-sized one when he purchased the place and furnished it, or the small, uncomfortable supplied in the military dorms. Even though he had his own, private room, military equipment was the same for all ranks, and the military did not see hotel-level beds for officers who had so much work they chose to stay the night or were on night duty as a top priority. Normal sized beds seemed to him like a strange in-between creature, and Edward’s was no different in that aspect. It was nothing fancy, either. Just a frame, which seemed to be made from wood, and a plain wooden headboard. The mattress seemed comfortable enough, a little bit sunken in the area where Edward typically lay, most likely. He clearly did not make it in the morning, or whenever it was he left it last, but seeing his state Roy could not judge him for not bothering with pulling the blanket to cover the bed, or to move the pillow to its typical place at the head of the bed, or pull the sheets tight over the mattress to eliminate the wrinkles that were bound to appear in the fabric when someone rested on it.
Roy couldn’t help but wonder if Edward had ever shared this bed with someone else. He was not a child anymore, but an attractive young man. Roy saw it, the facts laid clear before his eyes every time they encountered each other, on purpose or not; but until now Roy did not see it. It was not a side of Edward’s life that he was thinking about. But he could no longer ignore it when facing the place where it would all happen, if Edward led any kind of love life. He – and the rest of the team – were sure that one day, a year or two after Edward’s departure, they will be invited to Edward’s wedding with his mechanic girl. But instead the invitation came, a little later than expected, and for the wrong Elric brother. With this option clearly off the table, Roy realized he knew nothing about Edward’s romantic life. Did he want to know?
He pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He was here for medicinal reasons, and not to ponder about the amount of closeness his friendship with Edward had or did not. He started making his way towards the bed, noticing, following Edward’s warning, the various items thrown on the floor. A pair of shoes here, a shirt there. Nothing too big, or unreasonable, but he understood why Edward chose to say it. He made his way with ease, however, and as soon as they were close enough Edward let go of him and moved his weight – first to support himself on the headboard and then he managed to lower himself to the bed itself, immediately laying down and curling into a ball under the blanket he pulled over himself, as if otherwise he might freeze to death.
His chest filled with warmth at the sight just as much as it broke his heart. He leaned in and placed his hand on Edward’s forehead. He was no specialist in this sort of things; knew nothing about first aid other than what was being taught at the mandatory first aid course the military made all the soldiers go through once a year, but he knew approximately what was a normal human being’s temperature, and Edward’s forehead felt like it was burning the back of his hand. He knew he had to lower his temperature as clearly this was not Edward’s top priority. He knew he should not be lingering here too much, and definitely not start poking around Edward’s drawers or cupboards looking for medicines he didn’t even know would be there, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave him like this.
He drew his hand back and straightened up. Edward hid his face under the blanket as soon as Roy’s touch left him. Why did he even think he should be dragging himself to the dinner tonight if he felt this bad? Gracia would have understood. She would have probably come here herself, or sent someone else, with a box of food and a case of medicines to check up on him and make sure that he wasn’t too bad. Seeing the sight in front of him, Roy knew that this is how it should have gone, rather than Edward forcing himself out of the bed, where he obviously belonged, out of what he probably considered a social obligation.
Roy turned the little reading light that stood on the nightstand next to Edward’s bed, making sure not to touch the few items that rested there – an open book, close to the end, from the looks of it, a pair of glasses Roy had no idea Edward was using, several hair bands and a clock – before he turned towards the exit of the room. On his way out, he turned off the main light, figuring, from Edward’s behavior, that he would feel better with less light. He made his way to the bathroom. Pushing aside the feeling of taboo against looking through Edward’s things, he opened the closet under the sink, hoping to find what he was looking for already on the first try so he does not have to pry further into Edward’s privacy, but all he could find were cleaning supplies thrown randomly around the little space. He had to open two more doors before he found what he was looking for. He pulled a towel and wet it, squeezing the excess of water out of it before he returned to the bedroom.
Not much have changed in the few minutes he was gone, except that Edward turned to his other side, away from the lamp Roy turned on. The blanket dragged a little with him as he moved probably since his feet were exposed, shoes still on. The neat-freak in him cringed at the sight, but he really could not blame Edward for not bothering with it. He looked like he couldn’t be bothered with making it to the bed if Roy did not take him there. He let out a sigh. He will take care of this, but first thing first. He walked the remaining distance, and called Edward’s name softly. He might have been asleep already, and Roy did not want to startle him. He received a quiet, almost inaudible grunt in response. Not fully asleep, but close, then.
“I am going to place a wet towel on your head. You are burning up.” He said, waiting for a second to let the words sink before he reached over to place the towel on Edward’s forehead. He recoiled at the touch. It was a small movement, but it still made Roy feel bad for doing it. Without thinking he placed his hand on Edward’s shoulder to comfort him. Realizing what he’d done, he was about to pull his hand away before Edward, sick as he was, would snap at him for that; but something stopped him. It took him a moment to realize that the strange feeling inside him was induced by the sounds that Edward was making. Something in him recognized it, but it took a moment for it to reach his consciousness. He was purring again, like he did in the car. Roy tried to think back on the time that passed between when they left the taxi and now, but he was pretty sure he was not purring again until this moment, when Roy touched him.
There could be other explanations. Back in the taxi, Roy figured that it probably had to do with the sickness. He couldn’t ignore that small, dark part of him that thought it might have been fear, but he really did not want to believe that Edward feared him, even if accepting the other option was even a farther stretch.
But sitting here in the semi dark room, quiet but Edward’s forced breaths and the light rumble that came from his throat, it was hard not to think about that. After all, in the car, and now as well, Edward was not making any movement away from him. In the car he even moved closer. But then Roy was holding him all the way since they left the taxi, until he made it to his bed, and he did not purr at all along the way up here. Was it the small space, then? Certainly he was closer to him while helping him up the stairs than sitting two seats away in the back seat of the cub, or now, when the only point of contact between them was Roy’s palm resting on Edward’s clothes-clad shoulder.
No, there had to be something else. He moved his hand away, listening closely as the purring faded. His eyebrow arched up as a new thought came into his mind. He walked to the other end of the bed, kneeling as he undid the laces on Edward’s shoes and one by one took them off, placing on the floor near the bed. The only thing connecting the two incidents, but setting them apart from the rest of the evening, was Edward’s state. In both times he seemed to be on the edge of sleep.
This opened a brand new window of possibilities. Edward moved his legs, kicking the blanket around in an attempt to get his feet covered again. Roy stood up, a grunt leaving his throat as his knees protested the movement. When he was so close to unconsciousness Edward didn’t have as many of his walls up as the usual. Roy walked towards the head of the bed again. He reached towards the towel, frowning at its temperature. It was already warm from sitting only a few minutes on Edward’s skin. He picked it up and left the room again to wet it with cold water again. A thought crossed his mind and he made his way back to the living room, locating the kitchen on the left side. This time it only took one door to find what he wanted, and he returned to the bedroom with the newly damp towel and a glass of cold water. He placed the glass on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed to reach and place the towel back on Edward’s forehead. He allowed his touch to linger a little, waiting to test his theory; and sure enough, the soft rumbling sound returned.
Roy couldn’t help but smile despite himself. This was something Edward would never show had he been fully conscious. Too protective of his own feelings, too proud maybe to admit. Or perhaps he was worried that this kind of closeness would not be returned. Roy did not blame him. He knew his own reputation. He worked very hard at creating it and maintaining it. There was no point in pretending he was the careless, lazy, dumb officer who cared more about chasing skirts than chasing ranks. Not after the Promised Day and the coupe he led. He knew that his team knew better than the image he presented, and he knew that after everything they have been through, Edward would not think about him as the useless officer some other people thought about him before. But there was no reason for him to believe his reputation as a skirt chaser was anything but true.
Perhaps he did not know much about Edward’s personal life, or anything about his preferences, but he would bet his next promotion on Edward was not into the type of men Roy portrayed himself as. Roy doubted he was into men at all, but it was a possibility.
He was reading too much into it probably. Purring could also mean that he felt safe around him, which was not the same thing at all as having any kind of more-than-friendship feelings towards him. And him feeling safe, while still flattering, made sense. He used to be an authoritative figure to him after all. He was still the man that gave the broken ten-years-old child a way out of his hopeless state.
Roy moved his hand away, instead arranging the blanket over Edward’s curled body. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, or maybe it was the setting, intimate in Edward’s dimly lit bedroom. After all, Edward did grow to be a beautiful young man. Exotic, even, with his Xerxesian heritage, and even though Roy did not like using this term, he had to admit – at least to himself – that it did add a certain allure to him. On top of his physics there was, of course, his undeniable intelligence and depth that were so rare to find. Roy had a feeling that given the chance, they could spend hours just talking, playing with ideas and theories and not get tired or bored, not even for a moment.
He pushed those thoughts aside. Even if the purring did mean something other than fear or trust, now was certainly not the time to consider it even. Looking at the figure curled up on the bed, Roy reached the conclusion that there was not much else he could do, and that the best thing now would probably be to just let him sleep it off. He got up and straightened his shirt. “I left water on your nightstand,” he said. “Do you need anything else?”
For a moment there was no reply, and Roy thought that Edward completely succumbed into sleep. “No. I’m fine. Just need sleep. Thanks, Roy.” The words were said so quietly, in a slightly broken voice; but Roy knew what he had heard. He was pretty sure this was the first time Edward had called him by his first name. It warmed his heart a little.
“I will ask someone to come and check on you in the morning. But if you get worse, go to a hospital. Your fever is very high.”
“Fine, okay. Go. Think you asked that driver to wait…”
Oh. Right. Roy managed to forget about the taxi driver, what with realizing just how much in bad shape Edward seemed to be. “Get well soon, Edward. Merry Christmas.”
“You too.”
He felt bad leaving, but he also knew better than to argue with a sick Edward Elric. He was an adult now, and not under Roy’s command whatsoever. He will ask someone to check in on him tomorrow as he said, and probably drop by to check on him himself when he can, hopefully to see him in a much better state. He halfway closed the bedroom door behind him, feeling it might be better than closing it completely, and made his way back to the living room. He looked through the bags from Gracia, and placed two out of the four boxes he found in Edward’s fridge before picking up the bag and leaving the apartment. He wished he could lock the door, but as far as he was aware, Edward only had one key. At least the door downstairs had a lock as well.
He made his way down the stairs as quickly as he could. He thought if he should have the driver take him back to Gracia’s place, but decided against it. He already said his goodbyes, returning now would be awkward, and he did want to head to bed relatively early tonight. Tomorrow was going to be rough as it is, no need to be tired as well. However, by the time he reached the ground level and looked at the street there was no car parked at the side of the road. He sighed. The driver had given up on them and drove on his way to look for other passengers. Roy could not blame him.
He resigned himself to trying to locate a new taxi, bracing himself to a long wait, knowing it will probably be difficult to find one at this time on a Christmas evening, in this part of town.