Hypothermia

Disclaimer: I do not own RoyEd- or, um, I mean, FMA

Rating: T

Summary: Ed couldn't hate him enough that he'd rather die of hypothermia than get close enough to try and stay warm, could he?

Ed shivered and shut his eyes, pulling his knees to his body again. He was freezing. He needed to get warm; it wasn't safe to be this cold, especially with two metal limbs. Why was snow so cold? Damn it, why couldn't he get warm no matter how much he tried? Fuck, he was cold. He felt like he was frozen to the spot. The muscles in his leg were locked so tight from the cold that it hurt. Fuck, he wanted it to be over already.

"Full Metal," Mustang's voice was muddled to his ears, but he was able to recognize it seconds before the older man touched him. His right hand would hurt him more than he wanted to. He just wanted to scare him away. He didn't want to hurt him right now. He didn't want to die alone….

His left hand came out and he swatted the man away, landing a blow against his right shoulder. It shouldn't have been that hard; it didn't feel like he'd hit him that hard to his body, but even his confused mind understood what the pained expression on the older man's face was and what clutching his shoulder meant. But he didn't hit that hard. His hand would hurt if it had. He couldn't feel anything in his hand; it was just cold, but it wasn't numb. It couldn't be numb. If it was numb, he was going to die soon. He couldn't die soon. Al was barely human. He needed him.

Through the cold, he managed to make his tongue work, though it still slurred his words, "S'ay off'a meh…! S'ay 'way!"

Major General Olivier Armstrong stared down at Roy and Full Metal through her long eyelashes, tilting her head up so that it became all the more threatening. Full Metal's stance was that of defiance, though it always was, so he wasn't shocked at all.

"What are you two doing here?"

Full Metal looked like he could snarl something, but Roy knew better than to get on Olivier's nerves and placed a gentle hand on the younger's left shoulder, squeezing just enough to get his attention through his rage. "Honestly, General, your guess is as good as ours. We were on the train to West City, far out of here, when we were ambushed. When we awoke, we were here."

Who was he kidding? Alphonse didn't need him. Not really. No maybe brotherly in a time-to-time way. But he could get by without him. He didn't need him anymore. He had Winry to turn to. He had his body back. He didn't need him. Why didn't he need him anymore?

Why was he surprised that his little brother didn't need him anymore? Eventually, everyone started to drift away from him. Or he pushed them away. But he wouldn't push his brother. His brother was his brother. His brother didn't need him anymore. He was the dirty wipe cloth that had been kicked behind the radiator in a sleazy motel. He needed to be thrown away, but no one could do it to his face.

"Edward…." Mustang was talking to him again. He turned and glared at him, shooting him his 'stay away' glare as long as he could. But he was cold… he didn't like the cold. Why was he so cold?

"So you come to me?" Her eyes were cold as stone.

"No, we were in this room when we awoke!" Full Metal yelled.

It took all he could to not swat him upside the head. Though he was Ed's superior officer, that didn't mean he could abuse him. "Don't say it so sarcastically, Full Metal."

"What?" He snapped, looking up at him with fire in his eyes. "I woke up in the middle of fucking nowhere in a snowed in fucker-land"—he didn't doubt it was a play on wonderland—"I have the wrong Automail for this place because I hadn't planned on going this far up North,"—he held up three fingers now—"she doesn't believe our story"—four—"I want to hit something I'm so fucking irritated at this stupid ordeal"—five—"and I've got the fucking migraine from hell!"

"It's called 'chloroform' Full Metal."

"Yeah, I know what chloroform is you fucker. Do you know how many times I've been kidnapped on stupid, pointless missions you send me on?"

He blinked and furrowed his brow. He didn't. He had never known that Full Metal had ever been kidnapped a single time. It must be a detail he always spared him….

Mustang was still trying to talk to him. Why was he talking to him? Didn't he get it? Roy could get himself out of here anytime with his gloves. Why wasn't he trying to fucking save himself? It's Survival of the Fittest here for a reason. Obviously, Fate had decided he wasn't the Fittest this time. He didn't blame her; he didn't have anything to live for now, anyway. Why would he need to be 'Fittest'? Roy could still get married… have kids… become Fuhrer…. Ed didn't care about any of that. Besides, who would want to even get with him? Ed was hideous.

"Edward!" It sounded like he was listening through thick glass which was made into a sphere around him. What's an Edward? His mottled mind watched the older man as he reached out and tried to touch him again.

His hand swatted out, holding him off before coming back to hold his right shoulder instinctively as he shivered and shuddered, wracking his body so bad his jaw hurt from clacking. "Please, Edward, listen to me!"

He looked up and watched the man, confused. What did he want him to do? What was an Edward? Listen? Huh? Why was this so confusing? Why couldn't his mind understand anything that he was saying? Why was he so damn hot all of the sudden?

"There's a blizzard out," Major General Armstrong told them, pulling both of their attention to her once more. "The moment it passes, we're shoving you out so you can return to your travels to the West."

"Thank you," Roy sighed out a breath of relief. "Whether you choose to believe it or not, do know that the two of us are very grateful."

"Of course, you'll have to work for your food and sleeping quarters."

Together, they had said, "Wouldn't have it any other way."

They had been picking off icicles when a hand clapped over his mouth. In an instant, his arm was out, ready to snap as he worked on trying to figure out how to aim behind his head. There had been a voice in his ear, and though he couldn't remember what it had said now, he did remember that whatever it had said made him stall and he lowered his hand, much to Full Metal's digress as he started to flip and pound in his own hold.

He vaguely recalled losing his gloves and both were spiked through the array to become useless before something bit into his shoulder and a moment later he opened his eyes into a white nothingness with Edward hardly awake and shivering.

His red coat. That had to be it. That was why he was so hot so quickly. He felt like he was in a 3,000 degree oven all of the sudden. The thing was thin and not thick; it wouldn't do him any good to keep it anyway; if anything it was bringing it closer. It was just more harm than good. He had to get colder; the coat was making him too hot to be safe. He had to get it off….

His arms protested as he quickly removed his hands from their hold and he deftly undid the small buttons that had kept it wrapped around him before starting to shrug it off of him.

He recognized the color blue over each of his shoulders and a moment later the coat was pulled snug over him and fastened on the second set of buttons so that it was too tight for him. "S'ay off," he grumbled, pushing Mustang away with his hand again. "Nee' t' ge' ou' 'f m' coat. M'hot!"

Mustang ignored his swats and took his head in his. His hands were cold, but warmer than Ed's skin and felt good. He watched the older man's lips as they moved but he only understood half of what he was saying. "Please… don't die… me… not… child… don't die… Edward! Don't leave… can't… please… keep… coat on… hypothermia… freezing… death… keep on… don't die!"

Ed blinked as something landed on his face. For a second it was warm, but it turned bitterly cold and nipped at him an hour later… or maybe a minute… he couldn't tell… a day? Everything seemed so long….

He shook his head, but that also rid him of Mustang's cold-warmth. There was a pause and he felt something lifting up and snagging. Something that felt like a knot pulled at the end of the strings that kept his hoodie up.

When he'd woken up, it was because he was shaking from the cold. He just kneeled up and pulled his uniform tighter, knowing that it was constructed the way it was to keep you hot in both the summer and winter time—uncomfortably so in the former condition. But it wouldn't hold out long in a blizzard—especially if this was a Drachma Blizzard; they were fucked over if it was. Then again, at this rate, they were fucked already.

He remembered that Ed wasn't wearing his uniform—they didn't have his size (they barely had Roy's size) so he had been able to get off without a uniform. He had to be entering the first stage of hypothermia if Roy was simply cold.

He looked around. Ed was huddled a few feet away from him, shivering with his eyes clinched shut. Pieces of the hard snow were stuck in his eyelashes and hair and his face had no color whatsoever. It didn't even have a bit of red from the cold. No, that was wrong. Now that he looked, his skin was starting to turn blue and his lips were definitely tinged a baby blue.

Ed gave him the hardest look he could and simply screamed "stay away from me! Don't touch me!"

Ed couldn't hate him enough that he'd rather die of hypothermia than get close enough to try and stay warm, could he? Fuck, where had his ministrations and careful taunts gone so wrong?

"S'ay off o' me," he growled the best he could, but his throat hurt and the hood was slightly over his mouth. He was burning up. Why was he so fucking hot? Why wouldn't Mustang let him take off his coat? He was fucking burning! It was just making it worse! It was attracting more heat to him! He needed to get it off! "I said s'ay off me!" He yelled again and pushed at him.

The man cringed in pain and Ed immediately knew what he'd done wrong. No, no! He hadn't meant to hurt him! No! If he'd stayed away like he'd said…! He wouldn't have touched him with his Automail! It was cold enough to give him frostbite with barely a touch! The only thing saving his shoulder from that was the oil that Buccaneer had let him borrow (after he'd shined his Automail for him, but it was worth it)!

That idiot!

Roy slowly lifted his gaze from his stinging hand and clenched it, holding it to his stomach instinctively and relief flooded his face, like he'd done something right instead of hurt him. The man was an idiot! He hurt him when he'd touched his hand! He told him not to touch him so he wouldn't get frostbite or even frostnip from him! That idiot!

"I told you to stay away!" He snapped, though his mind was sluggish and his lips were twice as slow as he spoke. "I don't wanna hurt you!"

Roy shut his eyes for a moment before he opened them again and crawled over to him. He slapped away Ed's human hand as it came up, kneeling beside him and wrapping his arms around the small body.

It unnerved them both that Ed didn't even have the strength to push him away and instead cuddled up to Roy, murmuring, "So cold, so hot" repeatedly.

Either Roy had enough of his sane mind left unbitten by the cold or it had been nipped at just enough to be insane—either way could be true with the way he was shaking with cold—it didn't matter, as he reached down and drew in the hard yet fresh snow a small array.

Ed cuddled up closer to him after the igloo had come up and surrounded them just enough for it to be tall enough for them both and small enough for them both to fit cuddled up as they were now. "Roy."

"Edward?"

"I'm hot." His teeth chattered as he spoke, making his tongue slow as he tried not to bite it and make the words sound right, but it was still there and he hugged the smaller body closer to him.

"I know. We'll be better soon." I hope.

"I'm tired."

"Please Ed, don't fall asleep. Not yet. Stay awake just a little while longer. Just until you're cold again."

"But it's hot." He murmured. "I don't like being cold."

"I know. I'm sorry…. Tell me about all those times you were kidnapped."

Roy held his face in his hands a week later in the ICU wing of West Hospital. Ed's heartbeat rang in his ears and his breathing was even now, but before…. Before, it had all stopped. He didn't know how long it stopped and he didn't know if the body on the bed in front of him was brain dead or not. It was all he could do to keep him alive that he did in the igloo… if the S&R team hadn't found them when they had….

Slowly, he tilted his head so that the side of his face was cradled in his right palm, void of its pyrotex which was in his pocket with its partner at the moment and let the left one lay down by his elbow, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

There was a light pressure on his fingers and he looked down for a moment before he realized that Ed had lifted his hand up to rest on top of his. He followed the human arm up to its body and let his shoulders slump in relief as Ed smiled up at him, gently. "Keep looking so scared and you'll never be Fuhrer."

Roy blinked and forced a small smile at him before letting it fall and shaking his head, shutting his eyes. "Don't ever let me watch that again. Do you hear me? Don't make me…."

"Watch what again?"

"Don't make me watch a young man die ever again."

"I died?"

"Only very briefly," Roy muttered, still not opening his eyes. "Very, very briefly."

"That's why you were crying." Ed muttered quietly. "I couldn't understand what you were saying. I remember you were crying. I don't remember what you said."

Roy opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times so that a tear fell out of his left eye, skidding along his cheekbone. "Don't, please."

Ed smiled gently and made a motion with his head for him to stand up. He did, slowly, and felt the man take him by the collar and pull him down, wrapping both his arms around his back—Automail and skin alike. Roy smiled and wrapped his arms around him back, relishing the contact. "I thought you hated me."

"I do hate you."

"I mean more than you trusted me."

"Naw. I hate you, but I trust you too. You're Roy Mustang; it's hard not to be loyal to someone who won't use me as cannon fodder like the others."

"When I first woke up and you screamed at me to stay away, I thought it was because you didn't trust me enough to keep up alive."

"I didn't want to hurt you. My Automail, it-!"

"I know." Roy muttered. "I know about your Automail and how it saps temperature. I know."

Ed smiled and slowly released him, but he noticed that he didn't push him off. He followed the young man's lead soon after. "Normally you're supposed to call a nurse when someone wakes up," Ed chuckled dryly. "Thanks for not."

"For one, it's past midnight, and two I wanted to ask you something before I did."

"What's that?"

"Why do you hate me so much? I understand my name calling and useless banter but your level of it is remarkable. I never noticed it before this."

Ed frowned gently and looked away, turning his head entirely. "Because of what you'll do someday."

"What will I do?"

"You'll throw me away. Just like everyone else. I know I shouldn't care since I hate the Military an' all, but still"—he shrugged—"you'll end up throwing me away and you'll be the only one that will ever be able to do it to my face."

"I'll never throw you away."

"Don't make such bullshit promises."

"I can't throw you away, Edward." He murmured quietly and gently turned his head back to him so that he looked into those golden orbs. "I can't throw a single subordinate of mine away, but you especially."

Ed stared up at him for a moment before talking in such a low voice that he almost had a hard time hearing it. "So? In the end, I'll be thrown away. I just know it."

"After you're checked out, how about I take you to lunch."

"Why?"
"Because I want to."

Ed blinked up at him, finally blushing as he came to an understanding. "You'll find a way to sweet talk me into it anyway, General."

"Rest up, Full Metal."

"Hey, Bastard General?"

"Hm?"

"Are you still cold?"

"Maybe just a little." He admitted and leaned in, pressing their lips together as Ed threw an arm around his shoulders.