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Al scrubbed a hand across his face, wishing he had a cup of coffee, but the brewer was broken in the staff lounge and the nearest diner had closed hours ago. Without a little caffeine, he didn’t know how he was going to make it through the night and he was almost, almost tempted to call home and see if he could get Riza to bring him some. She probably would, but she hadn’t been sleeping well and he liked the idea that she was sleeping while he couldn’t.
It had been a long time since he’d worked night shifts; it was the one luxury of being a senior doctor at the hospital that he didn’t have to work any shift he didn’t want to. He’d spent enough nights away from his family to know he preferred the daytime hours. They were busier, but at least he could come home at the end of the workday or have dinner with his brother, or sleep in the same bed with his wife.
Al couldn’t stop the grin that crept across his face at the thought of Riza as his wife. When he was a boy, he always thought he’d marry Winry and they’d live in Risembol. She would run the automail shop and he would work on his research and Ed would live down the dusty road with his wife, although Al had never been able to pick out the appropriate girl for his brother in his imagination. None of them ever seemed right, and shouldn’t that have been a clue that made Roy’s piece in their puzzle less surprising.
They would have a simple, quiet life, much like that of his early childhood. It was a boy’s dream, idyllic and easier than any reality could be. Life was hard, they suffered and struggled and fought. Reality was so much different than he ever thought and infinitely better.
Riza made him laugh and challenged him. She tolerated the strays he was always bringing home and held his hand in the dark when he had to let them go. She was beautiful and perfect and everything. She made his breath stop in his chest and his heart expand until he thought it would burst. Being married to her was like a revelation and his only regret was that she’d never been able to meet his mother. Al liked to think that his mother would have been very fond of Riza, despite the hidden guns in the house and the car and that one time he’d found them tucked under the porch.
A quick look at his watch confirmed that it was past three in the morning and even if she was having trouble sleeping without him there, she would assuredly be asleep by now. He shouldn’t call just to hear the sound of her voice; he’d see her soon enough. He shouldn’t disturb her, but his hand strayed to the phone as he thought he wouldn’t mind her waking him up in the middle of the night just to hear his voice.
“Dr. Elric?”
Al snatched his hand back from the phone and tried to appear nonchalant. “Yes?”
“We’ve got a patient in room four. It’s a simple stitch job, but the guy’s a little paranoid and is insisting on seeing someone in charge.”
With a last lingering glance at the phone, Al pushed himself up. “I’ll take care of it.” One of the drawbacks to nightshifts: less people, but the ones who came in were more likely to be strange. He grabbed the chart from the nurse and drew on his lab coat, scanning the file as he walked. One of the interns could have easily taken care of the stitches, but Al didn’t begrudge the patient paranoia. It was late, he was probably scared and truthfully, Al liked doing the simple tasks.
Cleaning wounds, stitching up cuts, setting bones. Those were the things that really helped people, really made their lives better. He could consult on cases and spend time allocating hospital funding and supervising new doctors, but he didn’t think he would ever get tired of helping people. So many people had helped him and his brother along the way and he’d seen so many lives that could have been made so much better if someone had just lent a hand that Al couldn’t help but want to give back.
“Hello, Mr. Westin. I’m Dr. Elric and I’ll be taking care of you.” He smiled as he walked into the room, but noticed immediately that the man seemed more than just paranoid. Ed would have called him twitchy and Al couldn’t help but agree; something wasn’t quite right. It would be better to stitch him up and send him along as quickly as possible. Sometimes the cover of night led otherwise calm people to act in ways they never would in the middle of the afternoon. “Let’s take a look at your wound. Would you pull away the cloth for me?”
Mr. Westin seemed not to hear him and kept the blood-bright cloth pressed against his temple so tightly his hand was white from the pressure. His eyes kept shifting around the room and Al though very briefly about calling in another doctor, but he dismissed the idea. His patient was already agitated and filling the room with more people wasn’t likely to make matters any better.
“Mr. Westin? Can I take the cloth from your head so I can examine the wound?” His patient barely reacted, and he imagined Mr. Westin was going to spend the rest of the night with a psychological consult. “Mr. Westin?” Al took a careful step forward, his hands held up to show his good intent. “Will you let me help you?”
In less time that it took for him to draw his next breath, Mr. Westin jumped off the exam table, launching himself at Al, a knife in his hand. In his own defense, he’d been without caffeine and sleep-deprived and it had been such a long time since he’d personally been in any physical danger, his reflexes weren’t what they should have been. Al managed to deflect the blade from piercing his heart, but not from plunging into his chest. The blade must have nicked his lung, because Al wasn’t able to call out for help or warn anyone as Mr. Westin discarded his bloody cloth, pushed Al under the exam table and pulled the fire alarm.
With the knife still standing out of his chest and the edges of his vision beginning to darken, Al could hear the sounds of the hospital emptying all around him. At the rate of blood loss and his own injuries, he doubted that by the time they discovered the false alarm and someone found him, he’d still be alive. It was the only time he regretted his medical knowledge, because he knew he’d never get to see Riza’s smile again or hear his brother laugh.
**
“Thanks.” Ed sat up and flipped on the bedside light, unmindful of Roy’s sleep. Chances were that if he was getting a late night phone call it would involve Roy as well. “Hello?” He picked up the phone and stroked Roy’s arm.
“Mr. Elric? This is Dr. Hielberg calling from Central Hospital.” Ed’s grip tightened on Roy’s arm as his stomach plummeted to the floor; that was Al’s hospital. “I’m sorry to have to be the one to inform you but we had an incident tonight—“
“Is he all right?”
“Excuse me?”
“Is my brother all right?” Roy sat up next to him and slipped an arm around his waist so that he could listen in on the phone call as well.
“I’m sorry. It looks as though one of the patients attacked your brother during treatment and then there was a fire alarm. One of the nurses found him before she left the building for the alarm, but—“
Every part of him went numb. He couldn’t feel his hand or his toes and only Roy’s firm grip on him kept him from falling back into the bed. Speech was beyond him because he was certain that the next words out of the doctor’s mouth were going to be that his brother was dead. That he’d died in his own hospital while Ed was sleeping.
Roy took the phone from his hand and spoke with all the authority of his office. “Excuse me, Doctor, this is Prime Minister Roy Mustang and the next words out of your mouth will be the most important that you ever speak. What is the current condition of Alphonse Elric?”
Heilberg stuttered for a moment before collecting himself. “I’m sorry, I should have made it clear from the beginning. Dr. Elric is in critical condition, but alive. He’s in surgery to repair the damage and we won’t know more for a few hours, but as of right now, he’s holding his own. Mrs. Elric has already been notified and is on her way here.”
“Thank you. We’ll be right in.” Roy hung up the phone and wrapped his hands around Ed’s face, bringing them nose to nose. “He’s going to be fine, Ed. God, you’re freezing.”
Only then did feeling begin to creep back in, mostly in the form of wracking shivers and a dull ill ache in the pit of his stomach. “We have to go.” His own voice sounded like he was talking from the bottom of a well and if Roy’s hands hadn’t been on him, he would have been convinced they weren’t even in the same room.
“We will. You sit here for a second and try and warm up.” Roy slipped out of the bed to have a low conversation with the guards and when he came back to the bed, he had Ed’s clothes and coat despite the late summer heat. He helped Ed into his clothes because Ed couldn’t quite seem to make his body work the way he needed to. “Come on.” He held out his hand and helped Ed stand and was right there when the world started spinning, his voice low in Ed’s ears. “It’s all right, you’re all right. It’s shock, love.” He lowered Ed into a chair and knelt in front of him. “Take your time, we’ll move when you’re ready.”
“Al.” His voice came out in a whimper.
“We’ll be there soon enough. Just take a second.”
The door to the suite opened again and the same guard stuck his head in. “There’s an urgent call for you, Mr. Prime Minister.”
Ed’s vision actually did black out this time and only Roy’s hands kept him in the chair. “They wouldn’t call me, Ed. If it was Al, they wouldn’t call me. Come on, love, you’re scaring the shit out of me, here.”
“I’m okay, I’m okay. Answer the phone.” What the fuck was wrong with him? He couldn’t get it together and Al needed him. His little brother needed him and he couldn’t fucking stand up without keeling over. He rested his head on his knees and concentrated on breathing while he listened to Roy on the phone.
“Hughes? Did the hospital call you, too?” Al wasn’t even a member of the ruling body and half the Prime Minister’s staff was awake because if it. When he woke up and Ed got a chance to tell him, Al would laugh at that. “Excuse me? He said what?” Roy’s tone, sharp and hard, made Ed lift his head. What he saw on Roy’s face made him stand and cross the room so he could listen to the call as well.
“He said if we value our families, we’ll do as he asks when he sends his lists of demands. He said,” Hughes cleared his throat and Ed could tell he was reading from script. “The alchemist’s brother was just the first. Many deaths will follow if my demands are not met.”
Ed grabbed the phone from Roy’s hand. “He doesn’t know Al isn’t dead. Get our people to the hospital and lock the place down. No one goes in without a visual recognition from one of the staff. Sweep the place and set guards inside and outside of Al’s room and send in a sketch artist. I want to know what this guy looks like.” He looked at Roy and thought of all the people they cared about, all the people that worked for them that they’d put their trust and love in over the years and how long this could go on. “Round up everyone we know who lives in or around Central and send them here where we can watch them. Send local police to everyone even remotely connected to us who we can’t get here.” A thought occurred to him and he sucked in a breath. “Get Gracia and the kids to the manor right now, Hughes.”
“Right. I’ll meet you at the hospital when they’re secure.”
Ed put down the phone, stood and peeled off the jacket Roy had given him. The feeling was back in his body; he could breathe and he needed to get himself together. He wasn’t doing anyone any good by almost passing out in his own house. Al needed him to not suck right now; their family needed him to not suck. He looked to Roy who was waiting for him by the door.
“You ready for this?” Roy asked quietly.
“Let’s go.”
*
“Hey.” Roy breached the space between them and took his hand. “He’s going to be fine and we’re going to find who did this before he tries to hurt anyone else.”
“You don’t know that.” Even as a child he’d been too old for false comfort. He wanted none of it now.
Roy tightened his grip and offered a small smile. “I’m the Prime Minister. No one dies unless I say so.”
Ed choked a little on Roy’s words, not finding them as comforting as Roy intended. Al could be dying no matter what Roy said, and there was no power at Ed’s disposal to stop it. His brother could be dying and he still had to think about keeping Roy safe and not losing any more of their friends and family.
They arrived at the hospital quickly, owing to empty streets and an escort and even though he’d been the one to put the security measures in place, Ed still chafed at the delay they caused him. A scared-looking nurse directed them to a waiting room where Hawkeye—because even though she was an Elric now, it was hard to think of her as anything else—was already present, her face pale. In sleep clothes she looked strangely vulnerable and as soon as she saw him, she crossed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him.
“He’s strong,” she whispered against his ear, and those two words eased some of the panic still threading through his veins because it was true. No one could know that Al would be fine or that everything would be all right, but Ed did know Al was strong. He was the strongest person Ed knew.
“Have you heard anything yet?”
She shook her head and stepped away. “He’s still in surgery.” Her gaze slid past Ed. “Something else has happened?”
Ed opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t quite make the words come. He couldn’t quite voice the fact that someone had gone after his little brother because of how it would ultimately affect Roy. That Roy’s life was in danger had become a given, still unsettling and still terrifying when things went wrong, but it had been that way for so long it almost seemed normal. Al was a doctor; he helped people and he wasn’t supposed to be in any danger anymore. His life was supposed to be secure, not this, not waiting room and knives and pain. Not anymore.
“Hughes got a call.” Roy stepped up when it was clear that Ed couldn’t explain. While Roy talked, Ed dropped into one of the chairs, leaned his head back against the rest and covered his eyes with a hand. He let the sound of Roy’s voice wash over him, if not the exact words. Hawkeye needed to know what was going on and if it would keep them all focused until there was some word, that was fine, but Ed had already given out the directions he needed to deliver.
“We should wait to set up a command center here at the hospital until we know if we’re going to be staying here.” Hawkeye’s voice cut through Ed’s daze and he whipped around to face her.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that there is a possibility that we won’t have to stay here and it would be better to wait until we know for sure. We’re disrupting a major part of the daily business of the largest hospital in Central. We need to consider all our options.”
Ed shot to his feet. “No, we do not. We don’t need to fucking consider all our options when one of them assumes that my little brother, your husband, will be dead.”
She flinched back from his words, and Roy reached out to place a hand on Ed’s shoulder in a gesture meant to keep him from saying anything else. “I’m well aware of who he is, Edward. And I’m also planning for the possibility that we can move him from the hospital to the manor under care so that everyone is in a secure location. Do not presume to think that you are the only one who loves him.”
“I, I’m sorry.” He turned away so he wouldn’t have to see her expression any more, the worry in her eyes and how hard she was holding on to keep from losing it in front of them. “I’m sorry.” He returned to his seat and rested his head in his hands and waited.
*
Al was still in surgery when the sketch artist arrived and worked his way through every witness. The man with the knife hadn’t been very careful about who had seen him; he didn’t seem to care about whether anyone remembered how he sounded or looked. The name he gave at the nurse’s station was a real one and within an hour, there was a host of soldiers at the address. The house was empty and they turned up nothing inside, but the neighbors were able to confirm that the man in the sketches was the same man who lived there and he was Charles Westin.
By midmorning, Ed thought he would lose his mind from the waiting and Al was still in surgery. “Should it be taking this long?”
For an answer, Roy simply rubbed his back. “Do you want anything? We could probably get some coffee from the cafeteria by now.”
Ed shook his head. It was stupid, he knew, not to want coffee because his brother hadn’t been able to have any, but then, Ed was often stupid. “No.” The only thing Ed wanted was answers and since last he checked, Roy wasn’t a surgeon and there was nothing for Roy to do.
The door to the waiting room opened and Ed was on his feet, half on instinct to protect Roy and half on hope that they would finally, finally have word on Al. A doctor stepped inside and his face was so blank that Ed could only imagine bad news was waiting for them. He dropped back into his seat when his legs wouldn’t hold him and reached blindly for Roy’s hand as Hawkeye reached for his.
“Mrs. Elric? Mr. Elric?” He nodded to Roy. “Prime Minister. Dr. Elric came through surgery very well. We were able to repair the damage and he’s in recovery right now. You’ll be able to see him in about half an hour, but only one of you can go in at a time.”
“He’s going to be all right?” Roy was their voice because Ed had no words and from the painful grip of Hawkeye’s hand, she didn’t either.
The doctor tipped his head to the side. “The surgery went well. But there was a considerable amount of damage and there can always been unforeseen complications. At this point, I would advise cautious optimism.”
Roy thanked the doctor for them and came around to kneel in front of them both. “He’s going to be fine.” He’d said it before in the car ride over, with the same conviction, the same intonation, but this time Ed believed and for the first time since the phone call, he felt some of the tension in his chest ease.
Hughes, who had been in and out of the room all night keeping them updated on the information coming in, left to inform their people back at the manor. So far there had been no further contact from the Westin or his group; neither had there been more attempts on any of their people. Either Westin was biding his time or he’d been unable to reach his next target. Their temporary command center was turning into a more permanent one, now that it looked like they wouldn’t be able to move Al any time soon.
The half hour mark hit and passed without anyone from the medical staff to let them through to see Al. Each minute extra was excruciating as Ed couldn’t help but wonder if something had gone wrong or if they had somehow forgotten about Al and he was lying in the middle of a hallway somewhere. He was half tempted to try to track him down himself and only Roy’s steadying hand on his arm kept him from running out of the room.
Finally, nearly a full hour after they’d said they could see him, a nurse came into the room. “You can come through and see him now.”
Both he and Hawkeye stepped forward at the nurse’s words and then stopped to look at each other. “He probably won’t even be awake yet, so if I go first, then you might be able to actually talk to him.” Al was his brother. Al was his only family by flesh. He’d given up an arm for Al, joined the military at a ridiculously young age, went through hell for his brother and he should get to see him first. All Hawkeye did was marry him.
“He’s my husband.”
Like that was any kind of answer. “He’s my brother.” After the phone call and the waiting and the worry, he just needed to see Al. He needed it as much as he needed his next breath, or blood pumping through his heart. He was desperate to see his brother and confirm what the doctor had told them. Hearing Al was alive and seeing it were two terribly different things.
“Ed.” Roy crossed the room and rested a hand on his back. Surely Roy would back him up; he knew how much Al meant, how important it was for Ed to see him first. “Let Riza go. You’ll see him soon enough.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? He’s my brother.” He pulled away from Roy’s touch and whirled on him, stunned that Roy would take her side.
“And she’s his wife. If it was you, I’d want to be first.”
Ed turned away from them both, because how could he argue with that? “Go. If he wakes up, tell him I love him. Okay?”
“I will.” Then she was gone and he was alone in the waiting room with a traitor.
“I always get to see you and Al at the same time.” He sounded childish, but he didn’t care. Al was his brother.
“Al’s your doctor. Of course you see us at the same time. And if you want to drop the whole bodyguard thing and take up a medical career, be my guest. Until then, though, you’re going to have to be patient. I’m sorry. You’ll see him soon.”
“I hate this.”
“I know. Do you think you can get some rest after you see him?” Roy brushed a light hand down the side of Ed’s face.
“Hypocrite. I’m not any more tired than you and after I see Al, I’m going to hit the streets, find Westin and tear him apart.” Weariness meant nothing. Westin had brought violence to his home, to his brother and there was no power strong enough to stop Ed from finding him.
“That’s an admirable thought, and I could certainly keep you out of jail for that, but I think we’re still a little way off from actually finding him. He’s gone to ground and he’s hiding well. Let’s collect the information and bring him in the right way.”
“Why? So you can feel good about how it was done? So you can have a trial before you throw him in some jail that will be too good for him?”
Roy shook his head and when he spoke, his voice was cold and terrifying. “So I can make an example of him. So everyone knows that they do not touch my family or we will rip this country apart to find them and make them beg for mercy. He didn’t just hurt Al. He hurt you and Riza and everyone I care about and if I can’t keep that from happening, what’s the point of being the Prime Minister?”
As declarations of love went, it was a strange one, but then their relationship had often been nothing but strange. Ed closed the space between them and leaned against Roy, his arms loosely around Roy’s waist. “When we find him, he’s going to be so sorry.”
“Yes, he is.”
Fifteen minutes had never seemed so long in his life as he waited for Hawkeye’s time to run out. Finally a nurse came to collect him and as he walked the strangely quiet halls of the hospital, Ed was suddenly nervous. This whole time, none of it had been real. Now, though, he was going to see Al, see what had been done to him and after so many hours of waiting, he wasn’t at all sure he was ready.
Hawkeye’s eyes were red but dry as she handed off Al’s room to Ed. “He’s not awake, yet.” She paused and looked like the next words cost her an incalculable sum. “He’s not,” she swallowed and looked away. “He doesn’t look like Al.”
Ed nodded, unable to think of a response and his throat was so dry that even had he had one, he probably wouldn’t have been able to speak it. With a hesitant hand, he pushed aside the curtain that blocked Al’s bed from view and stepped closer.
His brother was pale and so still on the bed, with tubes connected to his arms and the hint of bandages peeking out from the neck of his hospital clothes. He looked fragile and small, not unlike how he’d looked when he’d first had his body returned to him, but he was undeniably alive and the tears that had Ed had been holding back rushed out of him in horrible, painful sobs.
Through watery eyes, Ed found the seat next to Al’s bedside and took his brother’s hand in his own, pressed his head against Al’s arm and tried to get himself back together. The sound of Al’s breathing, the faint pulse of his heartbeat against Ed’s fingers soothed him and made him believe more than any doctor’s words that Al would be fine. His brother was strong. They hadn’t come so far to be taken down by this.
Where Hawkeye’s fifteen minutes seemed to take an eternity, his own sped by so that only a check on a clock convinced him they weren’t trying to run him out early. Al didn’t stir the entire time, but Ed couldn’t begrudge him. His brother needed all the sleep he could, all the rest he could so that he could be up and around and helping people again. It was enough to know his brother was alive and breathing and he’d get to see him again soon.
Back in the waiting room, Hawkeye was sleeping on one of the couches, and someone had thoughtfully draped a blanket over her. Roy handed him coffee when he walked through the door before asking how Al was.
“Sleeping, mostly.” He took a sip and frowned. Clearly, years of superior quality coffee had left him unable to enjoy a regular cup. Fucking elitist Roy and his fucking elitist taste. Still, it was hot and he wasn’t feeling so much like he’d throw up anything he put in his body, so he downed the cup and handed it back to Roy. “They said we could come back in a couple hours and sit a little longer, once he’s awake.”
“That’s good.”
Ed nodded and reached for Roy, resting his hand on the center of Roy’s chest, a couple inches below the heart but above the belly—right where he’d strike in hand to hand if he wanted to do some good damage. With a sigh, he leaned forward and rested his head against Roy’s arm. “What’s next?”
“Next I think you really should lie down.”
With a laugh, Ed straightened and looked around the room that was filled with guards, paper and empty cups. “Sleep is not what’s next on the itinerary. I’ll sleep when you do and you’ve got a country to try to run.” His next words were preempted by a yawn and he held up a hand to forestall Roy’s clever commentary. “Has Hughes heard anything new?”
“Not yet. We’ve got Westin’s sketch in the morning papers and we’ve accounted for all close family and friends. Hughes has his people working on distant relatives and high profile political allies, but we’re in a holding pattern at the moment.” He frowned at Ed. “I really think you should sit down.”
“Why?” Though sitting didn’t sound like a bad idea since the room had begun to take, slow looping waltzes around his vision, which could not be a good sign. “Who brought us the coffee, Roy?”
“The coffee’s fine, love. Why don’t you sit down?”
“You’re being strange. What did you do?” He let Roy lead him to one of the couches and eased him down. “I feel strange.”
“It’s just a little something to help you sleep. It’s perfectly safe. The nurses gave it to me when I asked. I need you and Riza at your best for this and that means I need you rested.” He pushed Ed down on the couch and as much as Ed wanted to fight, to keep upright, to do anything, he couldn’t make his muscles obey him and he couldn’t focus enough keep the fight going.
“I’m going to be so pissed at you when I wake up.” Even his mouth wouldn’t cooperate with him the way he wanted and he wasn’t sure at all the words came out the way he intended.
Roy smiled the smile that had won him the election. “You and Hawkeye both. I’ll see you in a couple hours.”
**
“Drink this, it helps.”
He took the glass that was offered with one hand and latched onto Roy’s wrist with the other. It would be just like the man to try and escape while Ed was trying to drain the glass in one gulp. When he was finished, he thunked the glass down on the table next to him and jerked on Roy’s hand to bring him to eye level. “What the fuck was that?”
Roy gave a one sided shrug, unrepentant. “You needed rest and you weren’t going to get it on your own. How do you feel now?”
“That is not how we do things, Roy. This is not who we are. If you ever—“
“Don’t you want to know about your brother?”
Ed blinked and let Roy’s wrist fall from his grip. How could he have forgotten? “How’s Al? Did he wake up? Have you seen him? What about Westin? How the fuck long have I been sleeping and don’t you think for a second that this is over.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Roy straightened and offered Ed his hand before leading him across the room where a significantly more complicated command center was assembled. “You’ve only been sleeping a couple hours and you haven’t missed much. Al’s still sleeping, I checked on him just an hour ago but he’s doing fine. You can go sit with him when Riza gets back.”
“I’m surprised you’re still in one piece. I like you with all your bits attached, but Hawkeye doesn’t have the same problem.” He bent over the table where a map of Central had been marked and circled and at the sheets of information that meant Westin was still out there.
“I took away her guns while she was sleeping.” Hughes stepped up and handed over a set of papers to Ed. “Roy’s no good at the details.”
“Thanks for that, I guess.” He scanned the files and saw it was the location and security information of everyone who could be a possible target. If they ever got back to the manor, their home was going to be packed to the rafters. It was good, though; it eased some of the pressure in his chest and helped him focus.
Hughes put a hand on his shoulder. “I sat with him for a little while and he’s already getting stronger. He hasn’t been alone just because you’ve been sleeping.”
Unable to speak against the tightness in his throat, Ed nodded and turned his focus on the papers in front of him. “What do we know about Westin?”
Always more perceptive than most gave him credit for, Hughes dropped his hand and launched into his explanation. They’d already tracked down all of Westin’s known acquaintances, his co-workers, what little remained of his family. From the information they gathered, teams were sent to possible hiding places, favorite spots and safe harbors. So far, they’d turned up nothing, not even evidence that he’d been in any of the areas they searched.
“We haven’t received any further word from him, or seen any movement against our people. Everyone is as secure as we can make them and we’re still looking.”
Ed dropped the papers on the table and frowned. “It’s good for now, but what do we do in two days, a week, a month, when we still don’t have him, when we can’t find him? We can’t live this way indefinitely. Roy has to be able to be in the public eye and we can’t keep our friends and family prisoners in the manor. If he’s gone to ground where we can’t find him, the smartest thing he can do is stay there until time forces us to go back to our regular lives. It’s that or turn Amestris back into a military state.” He glanced at Roy. “We’ve come such a long way from there that I don’t think there is a single person in this room who’d support it.”
“No one is suggesting a military state.” Roy rolled his shoulders back as though he was offended.
“Maybe not, but you’ve thought about it. We need to flush him out, make him come to us where we can control him.” He nodded to Hughes. “It might be time for some asshole statements to the press about what a fucking pussy this guy is and how we don’t consider him a threat.”
Hughes shook his head, but Ed could tell he was interested. “That could be very dangerous.”
“More dangerous than him almost killing Al? Our people are safe and if he has enough firepower to get to any of us, we’ve got bigger problems than we thought.”
After a moment, Roy nodded. “I want this resolved. Ed’s right, the longer we let it go, the worse this is going to be for us. Talk to the press and see if we can draw him out.”
“It’s your call.” Hughes left the room with a disapproving look on his face, but Ed thought he secretly approved. If he didn’t think the idea had some merit, he would have fought against it until he changed Roy’s mind.
“You’re such a manipulative fucker.”
“But you feel better now, right? Could you have focused on any of this? When we got the news, I thought you were going to pass out, you were running in panic mode, you and Riza both, and if we’re going to get through this, I need you thinking, not reacting. You needed a break and I did what I had to do. You can be pissed at me if you want, but you were scaring the shit out of me and I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Next time, think a little fucking harder. What if something had happened while I was sleeping? What if you needed me and I was so fucking drugged out that I couldn’t even wake up?”
“But nothing did happen except you got some rest and got to sleep through all the boring parts.”
The door to the waiting room opened and Hawkeye walked in, a slight smile on her face. “He’s awake and he asked to see you.” Her smile fell as her gaze fell on Roy. “We need to talk.”
Ed smiled as he passed her. “Just make sure to leave him in one piece.”
Once in the hallway, Ed broke into a run, heedless of the looks he garnered in the hallway or the admonitions to slow down. Death was about the only thing that could keep him from Al’s side at the moment. As he approached the room, he slowed and collected himself. Al was recovering and he didn’t need to worry about anything but that.
Inside the room, Al’s eyes were open but heavy. He was alert and had a weak smile for Ed when he saw him. “Brother.”
“Alphonse.” He crossed the distance between them and took Al’s hand in his own since he didn’t want to risk the hug he really wanted. “I was so worried.”
“You shouldn’t. I work in a very good hospital.”
Ed choked on a laugh and pressed his head into the mattress next to Al’s arm. All around him, the sheets had taken on some of Al’s natural scent and lost the medicinal smell of the hospital laundry. After a moment, Al eased his hand free and placed it on top of Ed’s head where he pulled at the loose strands from Ed’s braid. “You’re not supposed to be the one in danger.”
“No one ever guaranteed us a safe life, brother.” He sounded so tired.
The desire to see Al awake and aware was too strong and Ed lifted his head to studied his brother’s pale face. “How much do you remember?”
Even though he tried to cover it quickly, Al flinched at Ed’s question. “I…” He shook his head and looked like he didn’t know what to say or where to start.
“Hey, never mind.” He was so stupid sometimes. Of course Al wouldn’t want to talk about being attacked right after it happened. Of course the memory would be hard for him. “Forget I asked.”
“Can you just sit with me for a while? I know they won’t let you stay long, but I don’t like being here by myself.”
“Of course. Of course, whatever you want. Whatever you need.”
**
The halls that had been so silent before were now bustling with doctors, nurses and patients. Almost as if the building itself had been waiting for Al to recover, the hospital now seemed full of life. Even when he walked into the waiting room, he found a flurry of activity.
“We have to get him secure before Ed gets back,” Roy said as Ed walked in the door.
“Get who secured?”
Roy turned with a panicked look on his face. “Hmmm?” he asked like he hadn’t heard.
Ed looked to Hughes since Roy’s track record for the day had been less than stunning. “What happened?”
“I don’t know that I should.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Hawkeye stepped forward in opposition to Roy and Hughes and with solidarity to Ed. “Westin tried to get back into the hospital but security has him detained at the entrance.”
“Thank you.” He nodded politely, calmly to Hawkeye waited the half second it took for Roy and Hughes to relax before he turned and sprinted out the door down the hallway toward the entrance. He clapped mid-step and transmuted his arm into the short blade, aware the others were following behind him, but also aware they’d never be able to catch him.
Through the halls he dodged doctors and nurses, almost collided with a gurney before bursting out the front doors of the hospital. Sunlight, so bright and unexpected, blinded him for a moment and when his vision cleared he saw Westin—recognizable from the sketches—surrounded by military, police and some of his own guards. He was smaller than Ed expected, weaker-looking than someone who had shoved a knife into his brother’s chest should look.
Westin met his eyes with the clear, unclouded gaze of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. In a court, he’d likely plead insanity to try and stem his sentence, but Ed had looked into the eyes of the insane and the man standing before him had a clear understanding of right and wrong. He wanted to hurt people because he liked to hurt them, not because he didn’t understand the consequences.
Then he smiled at Ed and Ed lost all coherent thought. One second he was standing staring at the man who could have been his brother’s murderer and the next Roy and Hughes each had him by an arm to keep him from reaching Westin. Roy was shouting in his ear to calm down, to stop fighting, that he was only going to hurt himself, while Hughes shouted at the guards to put Westin in the car.
Ed didn’t stop fighting. He wasn’t physically capable of stopping himself until Westin was in the car and the car was out of sight. He stopped struggling, stopped trying to free himself from their holds and instead found their arms were holding him up.
“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Ed looked up at Roy, who had a long, thin cut on his face. When he saw the matching blood on his short blade, Ed felt his legs give way entirely. “Let’s go back inside.”
Roy and Hughes half carried Ed back through the doors of the hospital and found a quiet room where Ed could sit on a bed and try to catch his breath.
“I’ll be right outside,” Hughes said before he stepped out.
“Hey.” Roy stepped up, right into his personal space, between his spread knees and planted his hands on either side of Ed’s hips, pressing them chest to chest. “You’re okay.”
“Sorry about your face. I don’t know what happened. I just, the fucker smiled at me and I, I don’t really remember.”
“That’s why I didn’t want you to see him. It’s been a hard enough day without that.” Roy pressed a kiss to his temple. “It was kind of impressive, though. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that.”
Ed laughed a little and was finally able to relax. He leaned all the way in to Roy and wrapped his arms around Roy’s chest. “That’s because when I get like that, you’re usually too hurt to notice.”
“Hughes gave the order to send everyone home, so the Manor will be cleared out in a little while and then what do you say to going home?”
With a nod, Ed sighed. “I feel like I could sleep for a week. I think that when you retire, I’m going to take up napping as a sport.” If they were lucky, they might get the rest of the day, but tomorrow, Roy still had a country to run and the threats to his health didn’t stop just because one psycho asshole was in jail.
“I think when I retire, I’m going to join you. Are you ready to go back yet, or do you want to stay here a little longer?”
Though it was tempting and Roy was being so accommodating, they had so much to do, so many things to plan before they could actually get back to the manor, and he wanted to see Al again before they left and none of those things would happen while he was hiding in a hospital room. “No, let’s go.” He slipped off the bed and headed to the door, but grabbed Roy’s arm just before walking out. “Thanks for stopping me. I don’t know if I could have looked Al in the eye again if I’d done it. He deserves it, though, and he’s damn lucky you were there.”
“Oh, my love. Luck would have been letting you have a go at him. I wasn’t kidding when I said he would be my example. He has no idea what I have in store for him, but it will be clear to the world that no one touches my family and gets away with it.”
“I shouldn’t find that sexy, but damn, Mustang. If I wasn’t so fucking tired, I’d jump you right here.”
Roy huffed a soft laugh and stroked the line of his back along his spine. “I’ll consider it a date, then. Let’s go. There’s still a lot to do.”