Alone In The Cold

Sometimes I hate myself for my love of knowledge. I will spend hours alone with books in the cold library just to fulfill my everlasting need for information. The library is just about to close and it's almost eleven. Al will kill me when I get home. It's the middle of October and really cold . . . especially at night.

It's when I start to think instead of read and absorb the text when I start to feel the cold. Obviously my automail won't feel true cold, but the rest of me can. My fingers have gone numb from turning book paged and the temperature. I suppose that isn't actually a good thing, the metal of my automail is cold too, it feels almost as though my automail sucks up the cold and radiates it to my body. Al will definitely kill me.

I hope I can get all the books put away before closing, I have actually been locked in the library before and had to sleep here. I can't vouch for it being a particularly fun thing to do. I feel gratification when I finally put the last tome away two minutes before eleven. I'm really feeling the cold now, I just have to hurry out of here and go home to Alphonse.

I step outside just in time, the old woman who runs this place just barely locked the doors in my wake. It's raining. I'm a little disappointed that it isn't snowing, if I have to be cold and wet I'd rather it be light and fluffy.

I curse myself for not leaving earlier. I don't live particularly close to here and it is very cold. If Roy was here, he would get the superior smirk on his face and say not only am I as tall as a nine-year-old, I have the survival instincts of one too. He's probably right though, just watch I'll get pneumonia from this and die. Winry would insist that I have two funerals, one for me and one for my automail.

Al would never get over it completely, if I died. I think I would be the same way if died too though. I think that's why he's so protective of me, hell he's a suit of armor, what the hell's gonna happen to him? He knows that.

I think I'm probably a third of the way home. That really sucks since I think I am getting sick. I feel like my feet are almost part of the concrete and don't want to be separated. I think my vision is blurring, but that might just be the rain. I thought I saw Mustang. I can't be sure though. My vision is definitely blurring. I hate being cold.

I think I'm going to black out, I hope I don't die. Al will be too sad if I die. I feel someone's arms catch me as I sway forward. The last thing I remember is a voice calling me an idiot.

I woke up feeling groggy and slightly shitty but warm and dry. I looked around, this was not the apartment Al and I shared. My first clue was that I was in a bed, I don't have a bed, I have a desk chair, secondly the room itself. It was decorated and clean, mine is bare and has stacks of books everywhere.

I think I was right about me being sick. I don't feel slightly shitty. I feel really shitty. I want Alphonse. Badly.

If I was younger, I would have been in tears, or close to them.

"Guess you aren't such of a smart-ass, are you, Full Metal?" I tense, that was Mustang, no questions.

"What do you want, Mustang? I feel like hell, can't you just leave me alone for once?" I think he was taken aback by my lack of resistance. I was too sick to care at this point.

"Fuck it. Ed are you okay? Should I have Al come and get you?" for the first time ever, I saw the Colonel look genuinely concerned.

I shook my head. "Al has no way of taking me home, I'd rather walk and let him chew me out at home," I whispered.

He sighed. "Come here, I'll drive you home. If you died on your way there, I wouldn't survive Alphonse's wrath."

I nodded and tried to get up, I think I was standing for two seconds before I fell back down onto the bed. Mustang rolled his eyes at me and walked over to the bed. He bent over and slid his arms underneath me and lifted.

"What the hell makes you think you can carry me? I'm too heavy, retard."

He glared. "I did last night, didn't I?"

I decided I should just shut up. When we got outside, I noticed that it was still raining. He unceremoniously dumped me into the back seat of his car and got in.

"Don't fall asleep. I need you to tell me where you live." Was the only thing he said to me through the entire trip. I occasionally told him to turn at places and such, but other than that I was silent too.

We eventually got to the apartment Al and I live in. I could tell he was slightly disgusted by the place. He walked to my door and opened it. He was about to lift me up again when I stopped him.

"I don't want Al to see being carried by you. Let me walk."

"Ha, fat chance. I saw your attempt at it earlier. I don't want to risk it, you might fall in a puddle and drown," I scowled, so much for that concern from earlier.

He just sighed and pulled me onto my feet. He took my one human arm and slung it across his shoulders and took his arm and put it around my waist. "Okay, Full Metal, we are going to walk very slowly so we don't fall. Got it?"

"Yeah, I'm not that stupid," I retorted.

We walked really slowly. I think I saw a few snails leave us behind. I felt kinda bad because I was getting completely soaked and so was Mustang. But I didn't let that bother me too much.

We finally got inside the four story, brick structure. Colonel went straight for the building map posted on the far-right hand wall.

"What room number do you live in?"

"42."

"Is there an elevator in this place?"

I shook my head. Does he think I'm rich?

"God, the fourth floor and no elevator. No wonder you got sick, you waste all of your energy going up and down four flights of stairs every day," he smirked. "You aren't all that keen, Full Metal."

"Bite me," I grumbled.

He just laughed and started dragging me up the wooden stairs that would eventually lead to my apartment . . . and Al.

A millennium later, we got to my home: room 42. I told him to just go in that our door wouldn't be locked. He did and when he saw my apartment I swear he almost dropped me.

It was basically one room, we had a small kitchenette, bedroom and bathroom that led off from it, but that was pretty much it. Our walls were bare and cold looking, I had stacks of books and manuscripts and various drawings heaped into piled along the walls, we had two wooden chairs by the kitchenette and that did for furniture.

I think Al heard us because almost immediately he came bursting out of the bedroom. "Brother! Where have you been? I was so scared for you, don't ever do it eve again!"

"Hello, Alphonse."

"Oh, hi Colonel Mustang. Did you find Ed? Is he okay?" my brother pushed.

"How about we put him in bed and we'll talk about it, okay?" why is he so kind to Al? When he does that Al won't believe me when I tell him how he teased me.

"Oh, all right. This way, sir," he led Colonel to the bedroom where he pointed to my chair. "Just set him there. We don't have any beds."

My room is just a desk and a chair in the corner of a small room surrounded by books, in fact, I have so many that there is only a narrow path leading from the door to my chair.

"Why don't you have a bed?"

Alphonse shrugged. "No room. Ed, stay there I'll look for a blanket for you."

"Whatever." I said and then coughed, actually I did more than that I had a full-blown fit.

Al winced and left to look. I think Mustang was really freaked out, though.

"Do you have a change of clothes? Your's are wet," he stated.

I nodded, fully aware of the pained look on my face. I was in pain! "In the box on top of that grey book there," I managed to pant out.

He acknowledged me and pulled the box from its place and started digging through it. He must have found what he was looking for because he stopped riffling around.

"Ed, I'm going to undress you. Hold still, please," he lifted me from the chair and put me on the floor, slowly he pulled jeans down from my hips, he pulled me underwear down with them too before he quickly slid a new pair up over my legs. He got up behind me and pulled me into a sort of sitting position and supported me with his knees. He pulled my coat off and took my tee shirt off. Carefully he put a long, knee-length, long sleeved shirt over my head.

By the time he was done, I was panting again and leaning against his chest as he lifted me back onto the chair. Not much later Al came in holding our one and only quilt. It was old and dirty and faded, but still usable.

"I'm sorry, Ed. I couldn't find it. You haven't used it in a while," he would have blushed if he could.

"No worries, Al."

I could see Mustang practically biting his lip.

Alphonse turned to the Colonel. "Go ahead, sir. What did you want to tell me?"

"Well, I've decided, will you and your brother like to live with me? Ed isn't very old and I am kinda concerned about your living conditions."

Al looked like he had been struck by lightning. "I, uh, I don' know. It's up to Brother, if he wants to, I guess."

"Please, Ed. I couldn't live with myself if you died. I can't believe you live here, I care about you Edward. I feel almost responsible for you and Alphonse."

"Yeah okay," I said sleepily. I could see my vision going fuzzy again and I was seeing double. I was going to faint again . . .

I awoke in the same room I was in when I woke up the last time. Only this time Al was there, so was Mustang but this is his house.

"Al?" I could barely recognize my voice and I could tell that if Al could cry he would be sobbing right now.

"Yes, Brother? Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm glad you're here."

"Ed, I have something to tell you," Mustang said quietly. "I know I'm a lot older than you, but I would like it if we could become a couple."

"Ha, what a sissy way to say something like that Mustang. I love you, too."

"Don't call me 'Mustang', my name is Roy, Full Metal." He growled.

"Yeah, whatever . . . Roy," I said and then fell back asleep.