I wanted to write another one-shot, I've been so busy with my other fic. This isn't extrimely long, I just wanted to try something new. I hope you like it.
The sterile smell wasn't comforting colonel Roy Mustang at all while he was sitting in a hospital next to the bed where someone very important to him was lying unconsciously. All he wanted to do was to hear the furious or soft, or any kind of tone of the golden haired teen when he said something or cheeped. All he wanted to know was that the kid was going to be alright.
Edward was deathly pale. An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose helping him to breathe. The monitor that was showing the sings of his heartbeat was beeping quietly. Roy found himself humming the rhythm. The rhythm of the little heart. The heart he never wanted to stop beating.
He sighed. The things were just developing too quickly and he didn't seem to catch on. The most horrible thing in his life had been seeing the teen fall to the ground after a shocking bang that nobody was expecting for. He could still recall the pained face of the teen lying on the ground, blood pouring from his small and lithe body, a bit under his heart. He could hear the boy's scratchy and fragmentary breaths.
He buried his head on his hands and stood up again. He wandered around the room, just for the sake of doing something. He couldn't sit motionlessly for long. It was like… a minute wandering a minute sitting, a minute wandering, a minute sitting. All over again. He didn't know how long it was going to stay that way. For a while at least. He had time to repeat it for many, many times.
The smell. He hated it. The scent of the medicines, the oh, so clean scent that tried to cover all the blood, all the dirt all over the building. The smell of death skin, the sweaty bodies of the doctors walking in the hallways, coming from the surgeries. Like Ed's one. He couldn't stand it. It was only a matter of time and bad luck if Ed would end up worsening the smell. And he didn't want that.
The thing he hated the most was the fact that the bullet wasn't even meant for Ed. It was meant for him. It was supposed to hit him. It was just bad luck that the maniac shooting hadn't gotten any lessons and shot too low and too much to the right. He was in custody now, being questioned. The police officers didn't let Roy to come near to the shooter, because he could kill the man because of his rage towards him. Which he would do, without any hesitation. It was that person's fault that he was there now, there, waiting if Ed would ever wake up. Worrying for him.
He sat down again, relaxing his aching muscles. He held the kid's cold hand, brushing it softly, whispering encouraging words. The words he wasn't sure the kid was even able to hear. Ed just lied there, no movement, no emotion showing. Nothing. Roy had to blink furiously to prevent his tears falling. He squeezed the little hand on his much bigger one tighter.
Was Alphonse already got informed about the condition of his brother? He didn't know. He just knew that the kid was taking a holiday in Resembool. Ed had stayed, saying he needed the library. The boy and the books… He visited the library almost every day. Roy always saw him, his apartment was just across the street. He could see the kid walking in with his bright red coat. He actually waited for it every day. Every single day.
"Come on, Ed. You can do it", he muttered as he lowered his head. So this is what it was like to sit next to someone important's hospital bed. Live or die. He preferred the first one, which people always did. People were meant to survive, Ed was meant to survive. Ed was meant to pull through everything. One bullet couldn't stop him. Right?
He stood up again and started wandering in the room. He took a look out of the window, looking at the people in the streets, playing kids, bad-tempered drivers, purposeful dealers. He didn't smile. He couldn't smile. There wasn't a reason big enough to make him smile before he was sure Ed was going to survive. And if… if he… if he didn't, then there was no reason.
He considered Ed as a son of his own. He didn't believe the kid knew the fact by himself, but that was the way the things were. Had been for a several years. Every time Ed had left his office to go after the almighty philosopher's stone he had been worrying sick, waiting for the kid to come back again. He had been praying for god to let Ed be alright those times, and he didn't even believe in god.
The doctors had said that Ed had been on the line of the death. If they'd gotten him in the hospital a few minutes later it would've been too late. Too late to do anything. Now they had done at least something… The surgery, the medicines and all. Roy remembered the time he had spent in the waiting room. It had been even more horrible.
If Ed would wake up, he would survive. If he didn't… he was going to die. Or end up in a coma. Roy didn't like the chances. The surviving without coma's chances were less than 40. Less than 35. But he just couldn't let the kid go yet. He couldn't bear seeing the kid dying because of him. It was his entire fault. If he'd just stayed a little further away from the kid, nothing would've happened to him.
He kicked the wall and took a few breaths before sitting down again. He brushed Ed's cheek softly with his shaking hands and bit his lip.
"Wake up, Ed. Please, wake up", he wailed. He felt his body shaking furiously but didn't cry. He wasn't going to cry. Ed wouldn't let him down, he would wake up. He was sure about that. Or at least almost sure.
He looked at the monitor and took a deep breath. Where was his posture? He didn't know. He had lost it the moment Ed had hit the ground. The moment he had realised what had happened. The moment he saw the blood. It was a miracle how much blood there had been, Ed's body was so little. He had never seen one body leaving that much blood behind, and he had been in Ishbal.
He closed his eyes and listened to their breathing, the monitor, the footsteps on the hallway, the talking of the serious and not so serious doctors and nurses. He massaged his hands together but froze when he heard a hoarse and weak moan and opened his eyes.
"Edward… are you awake?" he asked hopefully, his heart racing, faster and faster. The kid squeezed his eyes tighter shut and let out a little stronger moan.
Roy got up and ran to the hallway. "Doctor! Doctor, he's awake!"
The nurses forced Roy to leave the room while the doctor checked Ed again. He found himself wandering on the waiting room again, his mind almost empty. Dull happiness was raising in his chest, but he didn't want to release it just yet. Not before he was sure.
The minutes passed. Every minute felt like a millennium. He sat down, wandered, sat down, wandered. The hospital didn't feel that evil and threatening anymore. It was the source of survival, the source of life. The source of surviving.
After a while that had felt like forever, longer than his past life twice or even more he was told that Ed was going to survive and he was allowed to enter Ed's room again. He hesitantly sat down again, feeling more nervous than ever. The kid was lying still on his hospital bed. His eyes were closed. Roy hawked to make the boy know he was present.
"I know that hawk… bastard…" a weak voice said. Roy swore he saw a small smile dance on the boy's lips.
"Thank god, you're alright, Ed… you have no idea how worried I was", he said, noticing that his voice was trembling. He swallowed and took Ed's hand on his own again. It felt a little warmer.
Ed grinned weakly, still not opening his eyes. "I'm not alright. I've been shot, you idiot. The fact that I'm surviving won't make me alright just now." Roy smiled as he stroked the boy's golden hair.
"I know. But you're going to be just fine. And that's enough for me right now." Ed didn't answer, his face was motionless as he groaned.
"I'm tired…" he stated weakly.
"I know, Ed. I know."
The door opened and the doctors forced Roy to leave for that day, promising he could visit the kid again the next day. He nodded understanding and kissed Ed softly on his forehead, making the kid open his big golden eyes for the first time since he stepped in the room.
"Have a good rest, Ed." He said as left Ed thinking what the heck was going on in his head.
Review, please! I just love hearing people's opinions.