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As far as the days in the military went, this one in particular was pretty good - no one tried to assassinate the Fuhrer, no rogue alchemist attacks, Ed managed to get some decent coffee at the cafeteria, and his paperwork was almost done.
It was almost time for Roy’s report, and Ed reached into his desk cabinet to retrieve his folder. Although he was the one to most vehemently refuse to accept a child in the military, even he had to admit that Mustang was good at the missions he gave him. The kid clearly had a talent for diplomacy and a sharp, cunning mind backed by his alchemical abilities.
The door opened as Roy walked in, followed by Al, and the first thing Ed noticed all the way across the office was the clear trace of worry on Al’s face. The second thing was that as Roy got closer to him, he had a distinctive limp to his gait and was favoring his flesh leg. Ed leaned back in his chair, watching him limp to the nearest sofa and flop on it with a slight wince, carelessly throwing his report on the low table between the sofas.
“Flame, why are you not in the hospital?” he asked instead of greeting.
Roy shrugged, keeping his face straight way better than a boy of his age should be able to. “It’s nothing serious, I’ll walk it off.”
“With a limp like that? Kid, trust me, you won’t.” Ed drummed his automail fingers on the desktop, still carefully watching Roy’s face. “Don’t make me order you to go there.”
“If you don’t want to see a doctor, I can look at it,” Al offered, getting closer and sitting on the opposite sofa. Ed saw Roy’s shoulders tense as he sat a bit straighter.
“I told you, it’s nothing,” and then he saw something akin to panic cross Roy’s face. Ed met Al’s eyes, knowing that he saw it too. Ed forcefully pushed down the cold dread rising in his chest, mentally calculating how long it would take to get the information from the people he assigned to watch over Roy during his missions. If everyone got in contact as they should by the end of the day, he would have the full list of Roy’s actions down to the minute, and then it would be easy to find whoever was responsible. After that he would deal with his informants for letting this happen in the first place. Unless… unless the assault happened after Roy finished the mission and before he got to the office. Ed had seen the kid fight, and he was fairly sure Riza met him at the train station, which crossed out the train and the way from the station to the headquarters. Lost in thought, he barely heard Al trying to convince Roy to tell them what happened and Roy’s increasing protests.
“Was it someone in the brass?” Ed finally asked, startling them both. Grim realization bloomed in Al’s eyes while Roy looked confused. “Rodgers? Bose?”
He really should’ve killed those fuckers when he had the chance, and now Roy paid the price for his indecision. Ed clenched his teeth and concentrated on the matter at hand.
“I.. what?” Roy looked from him to Al, and while he was a good actor Ed could see his confusion was genuine.
“Did someone touch you?” Al asked carefully, and Ed braced himself for the answer.
“What? No!” Roy seemed indignant for a second, then he finally slumped and dropped his head into his hands. The words were muffled so Ed barely heard them. “That fucker stabbed me in the thigh.”
Ed slowly exhaled. Al seemed relieved as well, closing his eyes for a second before asking, “Why didn’t you tell us right away?”
Roy shrugged awkwardly, muttering something about easy missions and stupid mistakes, but Ed didn’t really listen to it.
“Flame, either you drop your pants and let Al look at it or I’m personally dragging your ass to the hospital right this instant.”
Roy stared at him, clearly torn between his desire to refuse and the knowledge he had to obey his orders. Finally he came to a decision and started to unbuckle his belt, color rapidly rising in his cheeks until he was as red as his coat. Roy shrugged it off and dropped it on the sofa, then quickly kicked his boots off and pulled his pants down, stepping over them and coming to stand in front of Al, arms crossed and face aflame. Ed pushed himself from his desk and got closer to have a look as well.
The stab was a fairly deep, short gash starting at the middle of his right thigh and finishing just a bit under his boxers, and the edges of it had a red, angry color. Ed barely bit back a curse.
“Roy, this is getting infected as we speak, how the hell were you going to ‘walk it off’?” Al asked, clearly upset at his stubbornness. Roy turned a shade redder.
Ed knew Al prefered to work without the patient’s clothes getting in the way, but considering Roy’s expression they’d have to fight him to get the boxers off. Al seemed to realize this as well, so he just clapped his hands together and put one of them above the wound, the other one coming to rest on Roy’s back to support him.
The surge of alchemical energy made Roy gasp, and Ed caught himself wincing in sympathy. Having been on the receiving end of Al’s alchemy he knew how intense it could be, like pure electricity getting under his skin and setting it alight with arousal. Judging by the way his blush had gotten to his ears, Roy started to feel it too.
Hopefully he won't hesitate to visit the hospital next time, Ed thought wryly.
The greenish light of healing transmutation glowed softly beneath Al's hand, working the tissue back together, and Ed decided to check the kid's automail while they were at it, so he crouched at the floor to get a better view.
Winry's work, as usual, was impeccable. Ed inspected the port, then gently pushed at Roy's warm thigh so he would lift his leg a bit. A slightly shaking hand clutched at his shoulder for support when Roy did as prompted, and the metal pieces Ed created fit together perfectly as they moved at the knee. The ankle joint shifted smoothly when Ed gave it a gentle roll. It seemed Roy really took his lecture about oiling to the heart, he noticed to himself while steadily ignoring the ragged panting above him.
The light died out as Al took his hands away, leaving a faint patch of reddened skin where the wound was. Ed sat back on the sofa, watching Roy dress with military-like speed.
"The next time you get any kind of injury, you go to the hospital first, got it?" Ed reached forward and picked up the folder with the report from the table. Roy was still quite red as he nodded in agreement. "Dismissed."
Roy breezed past them without saying a word, all traces of the limp completely gone.
They sat in silence for a few seconds before Ed turned to look at Al. "He was hard that whole time, wasn't he?"
Al nodded, smiling, and Ed barked a laugh, still giddy with relief.
Now that he thought of it, orchestrating a few incidents to permanently remove both Rodgers and Bose from the military wouldn't be that hard.
Just in case.