A/N: Hi everyone! Soooo I know it's been a while, but here at last is the next chapter. A nice chapter full of fluff and some parental Roy/Al! Ho, ho ho! Merry Christmas! :D I hope ya'll enjoy this.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed this story! You guys are amazing and I hope you all enjoy the chapter and have a great holiday/end of the year. Cheers!

Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing.

Chapter 7

"Colonel?"

"Colonel."

Who was calling him? Couldn't they see he was sleeping? He grumbled at the voice, hoping it would take the hint and be quiet. It didn't.

"Colonel wake up."

Wake up? Who wanted him to wake up? It wasn't Hawkeye. She woke him by yelling or knocking him out of his chair. The speaker sounded much younger, like a boy. But not Edward. Edward was too loud and obnoxious. That left only one possibility.

"Alphonse," Roy slurred. Why was Alphonse here? He shouldn't be here. Then everything came flooding back. The Diamond Malum. Edward, sick and about to be killed. The hospital. The fever.

Crap, he was supposed to be watching Edward. Great job, Roy! Real responsible. Roy shifted with a groan. "Ugh, what time is it?"

"Almost two," the younger Elric replied apologetically. "I'm sorry I didn't wake you sooner. But…"

Roy waved away Alphonse's apology and set about the business of straightening up. Since he'd spent the last hour and a half slumped against the headboard his back and neck ached.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have fallen asleep in the first place." His back and neck creaked, and Roy grunted. Ow! He was too old for this, never mind that he wasn't even thirty yet. Something hindered his movement and Roy looked down.

Edward Elric—youngest State Alchemist in history—was snuggled against his side with his head pillowed on Roy's stomach and his arm thrown over and holding the man like he was a giant stuffed teddy bear.

For a moment all Roy could do was stare, bewildered.

"Brother's seems to have been sleeping well."

Was there a hint of mischievousness in Al's voice? Roy thought there was. He supposed it was a relief to see Edward resting peacefully after the nightmares. That didn't mean he appreciated it.

"Well good," grumbled the man, as he tried to figure out how to get out from Edward's grip. Wasn't that how he ended up in this position in the first place? He sighed. It wasn't even the first time tonight. He was never, ever letting anyone find out about this. Especially Hughes. He'd never hear the end of it.

Roy shifted to move the boy away and froze. He put his hand on the young alchemist's forehead to be sure. Then he swore.

"Colonel, what's wrong?" Alphonse's armored form straightened in alarm.

"His fever's up."

Damn it! No time to call the doctor. How long had the kid's temperature been up? Roy had been dreaming he was in the desert, sweating from the heat and hoping against hope it wouldn't turn into a nightmare of fire, blood, and screams. How long had it lasted? He swore again, gathering the boy up in his arms. Roy, you idiot! This is all your fault. You were supposed to be watching him!

"Al, go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. We have to get his temperature down." Or were they supposed to let Edward sweat it out? No, no it was too high. Dangerously high. Like before. Alphonse wasn't moving, staring at his brother, terror pouring off the child in waves. Roy barked, "Now!"

The suit of armor jerked back and then scrambled to obey, racing out of the room. Roy staggered to his feet, clutching Edward to his chest and followed Al down the hall. By the time he reached the door, the water was running. Alphonse quickly backed out—there was no room for the suit of armor in Roy's small townhouse bathroom—and he darted in. Without taking the time to take off Edward's shirt, Roy lowered the boy into the cold spray, taking care to keep his face away from the torrent.

Edward jerked awake the moment the spray hit, his gold eyes wide with shock. Immediately, he began to protest and struggle. "No! No, please! I—I it's cold. It's cold!"

"Easy, Edward," Roy commanded, trying to keep his words soothing. "You're not cold, your fever is up. The water will help."

If he hoped the logic would help calm the boy, he was quickly proven wrong as Edward struggled harder, pleas intensifying. At this rate, the boy was going to hurt himself. With no other option, Roy climbed into the tub and held the struggling boy tight in his arms so the spray continued to land on the child's shuddering back. Edward punched him weakly and made a strange sound that was probably a sob but was swallowed up in the water.

"I've got you, Ed."

Roy held the child tight, gracelessly stroking the blonde hair in hope of calming him. The boy continued to struggle, albeit weaker every time, until at last he was still in Roy's arms, head resting against his chest, panting. Once Roy was satisfied that the water had done what it needed to, he reached over and turned the nozzle. With help from Alphonse, the pair managed to get Edward dried and into clean clothes. Then Al took his brother back to the bedroom while Roy dried off and changed himself.

When Roy finally made it back to the guest room he found Edward wiggling in his brother's hold and not letting the younger boy settle him in bed. He watched for a moment, oddly relieved to see some of the boy's usual obstinance on display. It was only when Edward started whining and really twisting in his brother's hold that he stepped in.

"Fullmetal, settled down."

That got the blond's attention and he stilled. Red-rimmed gold eyes peered around the room. "Colonel?"

The man walked over to join Alphonse by the bed. He studied Edward with a critical eye. With his blonde hair loose and damp hanging around his shoulders, Edward appeared younger than ever. Something twisted in Roy's gut. Before he realized he was doing it, Roy put his hand on the blond's head. Edward blinked at the contact, his eyes taking a moment to focus.

Edward stared at him with something that Roy wouldn't quite dare call wonder, maybe even relief. Then the boy surged in Alphonse's grasp, slipping out like an eel. Roy gave a shout and barely had time to grab Edward before he crashed to the floor. He stumbled at the boy's sudden, unexpected weight. Edward was light, but the automail made him heavier than he was. Strange, he didn't notice earlier. The alchemist decided it wasn't worth dwelling on as he abruptly sank back in the rocking chair by the window with his charge. To his dismay, Edward snuggled closer, curling into a ball in his lap, fingers once again grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

"It's like you're a teddy bear."

Roy spluttered at the comparison, cheeks warming as he glared at the younger Elric. The armored boy snickered, and Roy's annoyance faded away. When was the last time he heard Alphonse laugh? He couldn't recall. It was a nice sound. With a huff, he settled back, resigning himself to the situation. Edward whined, pressing closer.

The younger Elric handed him a blanket and Roy quickly wrapped it around the boy. He hoped it would make Edward loosen his grip. It didn't. There was no hope for escape then. Roy sighed. Might as well finish it off then. He began to rock back and forth. Maybe if the blond fell into a deep enough sleep, he'd be able to get free of the kid's grip.

Unfortunately, he started to doze off as well. Alphonse calling woke him.

"Colonel?"

"Hmm? What is it, Al?"

"Well, um, I was wondering. Why do you have a rocking chair in your guest room?"

Roy gave a longsuffering sigh. "Hughes. His wife had a baby a couple months ago, I'm sure you know."

All East Command had to know considering how the idiot was constantly talking and shoving pictures in everyone's face. Roy in particular. When Al nodded, Roy went on. "Hughes and Gracia came to visit a few weeks back. The baby was colicky and had trouble sleeping. Hughes insisted he needed a rocking chair to get Elysia to sleep. I made him one. And it worked. The baby slept and so did we."

"You made one?"

"There weren't any stores open that late," Roy answered, defensive.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense."

Black eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What?"

"Well, it's just—I've only seen you use your alchemy once before when you dueled Brother and…"

It was Roy's turn to hum in understanding. "I'm sure Fullmetal thinks I don't know how to transmute anything else since I'm so…useless."

A large hand went up and rubbed the back of Al's helmet. A family trait it seemed because the colonel had seen the older Elric perform too from time to time when he was embarrassed or unsure. "Something like that, sir."

"Well," Roy sniffed—he may have said he was useless but that didn't mean he had to like being described as such. "I can use other arrays. I had to master the basics before I learned flame alchemy, you know."

"Right. So, why don't you use it more? Wouldn't it help you? I mean, Ed and I use alchemy all the time."

The boy's innocence warmed him. How could he crush this child's love of alchemy despite what they had done, the price they paid? Their continued love of alchemy was one of the things Roy admired about the two boys.

"Not exactly at my current position in the military," Roy replied slowly. It was a vague enough answer. It wasn't quite true, but there was no way the colonel was going to attempt explaining how the war made him not want to use alchemy unless he had to. The younger Elric didn't need to know that, just like he didn't need to know such intimate details about the war. It could wait until he was older. For both boys.

Roy looked down at Edward. To his relief, Edward seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Absently, he brushed his fingers over the teen's forehead, moving the blonde hair out of his face. He blinked and brought his hand back, settling it on Edward's forehead to be certain.

"The fever broke," Roy whispered.

Alphonse's head jerked up, red eyes seeming to glow brighter. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm sure."

The suit of armor shuddered, and Al made a noise that might have been a sob or sigh of relief. Not that Roy blamed the twelve-year-old. The day had been hell. He almost couldn't believe it was over. Edward's fever had broken. The tension that had been coiled in his body for what seemed like days finally began to ease.

For several minutes there was silence as both man and boy absorbed the relief. Then:

"You must be a really great pillow, Colonel."

"What?! I am not!"

Roy's indignant rebuttal was met with a snicker from Alphonse. "I think Ed would disagree."

Okay, that did it. Bad enough this was the second time tonight he'd been allowing the young alchemist to sit on him, the last thing he needed was any ideas about him being soft like a pillow. He most certainly was not a pillow, thank you! Or a damn teddy bear for that matter. He was putting a stop to this here and now. He had an image to maintain and that did not include acting as his youngest and most troublesome subordinate's personal pillow.

Two minutes later Roy leaned back and groaned in defeat. Edward snuffled, burrowing close to the colonel's chest, hand still firmly fisted around the colonel's shirt. He gave the boy a narrow stare. How was the brat doing this? He was asleep for crying out loud, and Roy still couldn't get out of his grip.

"Ed probably won't remember any of this when he wakes up anyway." That was something at least. It would be easier to pretend it never happened that way.

"Why's that?"

Roy jumped, not realizing he'd spoken aloud. He had to wrack his brain for a moment, exhaustion making it hard to think. "Fevers tend to have that effect. Our bodies are not meant to get so hot. In defense, the body focuses on fighting the fever and the mind slips into a distant state because all its energy is focused on fighting the illness."

"Oh. So, he won't remember anything?"

"He might remember some," Roy admitted, reluctant. Knowing his luck, it would be what he didn't want the teen to remember—this…this cuddling incident being at the top of that list. "But I doubt it will be much. You saw how he was earlier."

Alphonse made a small noise of acknowledgment. Then, "Will he remember fighting, you know, him?"

Him. The Diamond Malum. It took a great deal of effort for the colonel to keep his expression neutral, but he doubted he completely succeeded. Roy wanted answers and not just about the killer. He wanted to know exactly the little brat had been thinking taking off alone with no one the wiser to where he was or what he was doing. He pointedly ignored the little voice that reminded him that half the time he didn't know what the young alchemist was up to when he was off hunting down leads on the Philosopher's Stone. Sure, Roy had always ensured he got reports on Fullmetal and his brother and what they were up to, but obviously it was time to keep a much closer watch.

"I don't know. Hopefully he'll remember enough so I can close the case."

"Oh." Alphonse shifted his attention between Edward, Roy, and the floor. "What's going to happen when Ed gets better?"

"There will be consequences." The words fell like ice chips from Roy's mouth. "I told Edward when he became a State Alchemist, he would only go on missions I assigned or permitted for him, and any research trips had to have my approval. This should have never happened."

And he was going to make sure it didn't ever again. There were men higher than him with the authority to give Fullmetal orders, but Roy had made sure that in every case they had to inform him as Edward's guardian. The only one who could truly go over Roy's head was the Fuhrer and he would do everything possible to ensure something like that never happened.

The younger Elric was quiet for a minute, head bowed. "I should have been with him."

"No, Alphonse." The colonel's stern voice drew the boy's attention. Roy made sure his expression was firm, unyielding. There was no way he was letting Alphonse shoulder blame for his brother's reckless idiocy. "Edward chose to do this even though he knows better. You are not to blame. Maybe you could have protected Edward if you'd been there like you usually do. That would not change that Edward deliberately disobeyed me in a foolish attempt to distract me from the mess he made on the last mission."

As if sensing his superior's ire, Edward whimpered in his arms. Roy rubbed the boy's back. The blond quieted and returned to deep slumber. Roy refocused his attention on the younger Elric. "We are responsible for our own choices and the consequences, for good or ill. That includes your brother."

"Equivalent exchange," Alphonse murmured.

Roy frowned. As an alchemist and scientist, he understood and believed in equivalent exchange. But Roy had found that in life the principle wasn't necessarily true. Was there any equivalent for the lives lost in the Ishvalan War? He had killed thousands, but he was just one man. And what would the killing of a thousand people equal to those already dead accomplish? Only more heartbreak, grief, and anger that would feed the cycle of death. Justice was not dependent on equivalent exchange, not precisely. But how to explain that to a young boy?

"Not exactly," he said slowly. "It's more like cause and effect. Sometimes an action or decision can have lasting effects that no one could have anticipated. Usually it's something small, something mundane even, though not always. Like walking across the street and going right instead of left or left instead of right. Go one way and you could just keep on walking to your destination, go the other and maybe you witness a robbery. It's not equivalent exchange, it's choice."

It was hardly the best example, but it seemed the colonel got his point across because Alphonse didn't answer, seeming to be deep in thought. Roy let him think, instead focusing on standing up from the rocking chair without disturbing the sleeping troublemaker he held. With Edward on the mend and sleeping soundly, that meant he could get some sleep too. Successfully on his feet, Roy went to the bed and laid the boy down. With a little bit of work, he got his shirt free from the boy's hand. He stood up, his shirt containing a hole courtesy of the little brat on the bed. Edward fussed for a minute before settling as Roy tucked the blanket over him. He shook his head, exasperated.

"I think I understand, sir."

The somberness of the words drew Roy's attention. He met the younger Elric's soul-fire gaze. "Good."

Roy then yawned. A glance across the room at the clock confirmed it was nearly three in the morning. "Well, I'm going to bed. Come get me if you need anything."

"I will."

The man gave a small, tired smile and tapped his knuckles lightly against Al's metal shoulder. "Night Al."

"Good night, Colonel."

Edward woke to his head throbbing. It wasn't a bad headache, he'd certainly had worse. But it was persistent and annoying. It felt like when Winry's wrench was used to vent her displeasure for damaging her automail. Had he wrecked his automail? Gingerly, he tried to wiggle his toes and then his fingers. Nope, his automail was attached and seemed to be working fine. So just a good old traditional headache. Yippee.

Groaning, the young alchemist rolled over. The bed was nice. Soft and warm. Maybe he could just fall back asleep and then the headache would go away. He sighed. No, he knew that wouldn't work. Once he was awake, he could never go back to sleep.

A familiar clinking filled the air, steadily coming closer. Alphonse. He opened his eyes, automatically looking for his younger sibling.

"Oh, Ed you're awake!"

"Hey Al." Edward mumbled, blinking to orientate his vision.

"How are you feeling?" The younger Elric asked as he approached, worry clear.

That wouldn't do. Alphonse shouldn't be so worried about him. He needed to reassure his brother he was just fine. Step one in soothing his baby brother was not telling Al know how bad he really felt. Step two was verbally reassuring Alphonse, followed by step three which was somehow showing it.

"I'm all right." Gingerly, he sat up. It took a lot more effort than he expected. "Jus-Just a slight headache."

"You sound so much better. Do you think you could eat something? The colonel was making something for dinner, I think. That will probably help with the headache too."

"Huh?" Ed didn't know the Flamethrower could cook. If he did, he imagined it was all burnt. But that didn't matter. What was Mustang doing in their dorm and making dinner in the first place? "What's he doing here?"

Alphonse tilted his head, his words hesitant. "Well, we are in his house…"

"WHAT?"

Was it possible for a rock to replace one's stomach? The teen was pretty sure it wasn't, except that's what his stomach currently felt like. Edward was a hundred percent awake now. He looked around the room, really taking note of what was there. Unlike the standard dorm room, the furniture was fine carved oak, solid and obviously well taken care of. There was a nightstand and a dresser and, oddly enough, a rocker in the corner by the window opposite him. The walls were painted a pleasant forest green. Then there was the bed. It was a double and not a single, with sky blue sheets and blankets that were soft and cool. Nothing at all like the itchy ones from the dorms.

"Wha-what happened? Why are we doing here, Al?"

"You don't remember?"

Edward opened his mouth to shout that of course he didn't but no words came. You don't remember? He'd heard that question before. Edward dropped his chin, frowning. What did he remember? He searched the foggy recesses of his mind. There was a sense of déjà vu about this conversation, like he'd had it with Al already.

But more importantly, he remembered a presence and a strong, comforting voice.

"Breathe Fullmetal." Two strong, solid hands gripped his trembling shoulders, anchoring him. "Take a breath now."

Then there were nurses and a nasty needle and that same strong voice that commanded him to breathe soothed his fear.

A hand lightly brushed his bangs back. "Alphonse will be here when you wake up."

"You—" Edward licked his dry, cracked lips. "You promise?"

"Yes. I promise."

Fear of being alone had still coiled around his chest. He begged for the presence to stay.

"I'll stay."

Warmth. Security. Then, he thought he remembered being shuffled out and put into a car.

"You know the faster you get out of there, the sooner we can go inside where it's warm. Unless you want to spend the night shivering in my car?"

Darkness and fear followed only to be chased away by warm arms holding him tight, and that voice once again speaking to him. Every time Edward thought he was alone, he was proved wrong by that voice.

"I remember something about a hospital," Ed said at last, "and riding in a car."

And Colonel Bastard carrying him; caring for him. But that couldn't be real. Mustang saw him as nothing more than a useful pawn to help him move up the ranks. The colonel didn't care about him. He didn't hold him or reassure him or do anything like checking Edward's temperature with his hand or rub his back to reassure him. He was Colonel Mustang for crying out loud! Mr-High-and-Mighty who always insulted Edward's height and sat behind his desk acting smug and all knowing. No chance! And he certainly didn't stay because Edward begged him too like a baby more than once. Nope, absolutely not. Mustang could not possibly be the one whose voice and presence reassured him he was safe. No, Edward refused to believe it. It must have just been Al or just his imagination.

So, Edward shrugged at his brother. "Everything else is kind of blurry."

Alphonse hummed. "The colonel thought as much. Your fever was really high."

"Huh? Fever?" Was that why everything was so hazy and distorted? He supposed it made sense.

"Yes, brother. You've had a fever."

Edward shifted, uncomfortable. The reproach in Al's words was unmistakable. "Oh. I didn't realize. Sorry, Al."

Alphonse held his stare for a moment longer before he sighed. "It's okay. I'm just glad you're feeling better, brother."

"So am I."

The brothers startled and turned toward the door. Standing at the door was none other than Colonel Mustang. Only, he looked nothing like the colonel Edward knew on a regular basis. That man always wore the blue uniform with and a smirk on his ugly face. The man in the door was in loose fitting black pants and a gray t-shirt. Not to mention his black hair was even messier than usual. And his expression? Edward didn't know what to make of it. It was almost as if he meant what he said when he agreed with Alphonse that he was glad the young alchemist was feeling better.

Mustang stepped into the room and Edward realized he was carrying a bowl that gave off a positively heavenly smell. Edward's stomach growled, and he had to swallow to keep from drooling.

"Is that stew?"

"Broth."

Edward scowled. He didn't want broth! It was so…brothy. Why did it smell so good? For that matter: "Why do you have broth?"

A black eyebrow arched as the man set the tray down on the nightstand. "You need to eat something, Fullmetal."

"But I don't want broth," Edward complained. "I'm starving! I want real food."

"You're being awfully demanding considering your situation." The words were dropped casually, with just a hint of irritation and something else that Edward couldn't identify, but it immediately put him on edge. "Eat the broth and if you can keep it down, we'll see about something else."

Before Edward could respond, the man plopped the bowl on the bedside table then turned around and strode out. The brothers stared at the empty doorway in bewilderment.

"Geez, what's with him?" Edward grumbled. He glanced at the bowl and wrinkled his nose.

"I don't know, but you better eat if you want anything else, Brother." Al handed him the bowl. Automatically, Edward took it even as he complained.

"Ah, come on! It's broth! And Colonel Bastard made it!"

"Eat, Ed."

With a pout, Edward picked up the spoon and took a sip. It didn't taste that bad. A little weird. He lifted another spoonful. Then another. As he ate, his mind whirred with confusion.

When Alphonse had asked him what he remembered it was easy to dismiss the images and feelings about Mustang from earlier. Seeing him just now, casually dressed in a t-shirt and dark pants, made the man seem less grand. Like a regular guy. Roy Mustang was not a regular guy. He was an egotistical, bossy, manipulative jerk. Edward decided he didn't like Mustang in casual clothes.

But he did have to admit, if only to himself, the broth was actually pretty good.

One more chapter to go. Thanks for reading!