Wounded Angel

Disclaimer: FMA is not mine, but this story is so don’t even think about stealing it!

Wounded Angel: Chapter 2: Healings and Forgotten Meetings

Sheets rustled, groans and grunts echoed through the apartment, and two men were covered in sweat. The older man’s eyes were closed and his face was scrunched up in pain. The younger of the two, still a teen actually, was biting his fingernails and trying to figure out what to do. When the black haired, Roy Mustang settled from his brief bout of tossing Ed leaned over and looked at the wound one more time. The angry red lines were still there, confirming his suspicion that the laceration was infected. He then looked up at the sick man’s face, noted the pale skin and flushed cheeks that screamed out ‘FEVER!’ Ed had no idea what to do.

He had already tried to pour hydrogen peroxide onto the wound to clean out the infection, but the man had just screamed and flailed his left arm and legs, trying to knock Ed away. He’d tried pouring warm water over it to clean out any bacteria that might still be residing inside, but that failed as well. Now he did the only thing he could think of, he went on-line. Quickly pulling up a search engine he typed in ‘infected knife wounds’ and got pages of results. Groaning at the sheer amount of information and knowing that most of it would say to seek professional care, he started his trek through the web sites. He found several good ideas but kept searching until his mouse clicked on a wilderness survival site. Jackpot, there were no doctors in the wild to consult so he did not have to worry about that end all, be all advice that was on all the other sites.

He grimaced at the idea of using fresh urine to clean the wound and gagged when he got the part about maggot therapy, but quickly jotted down the directions for those options incase things got any worse. He continued to read and was relieved to find a paragraph on less extreme solutions. After reading through it all he ran for the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth. Turning on the sink he let the water run until little puffs of steam could be seen radiating off of it. Quickly soaking the light blue fabric in the running water he went back out to his patient and placed the square cloth on the angry wound. Ignoring the pained hiss the action induced, he kept the cloth there until it started to cool down to lukewarm. Going back to the bathroom, he soaked it again in the water and kept up this activity for thirty minutes. By the end of it all the man, Mustang, he said his name was Mustang, seemed to have improved slightly. At least that’s what Ed told himself.

Noting the man’s dry lips Ed stood up and went to the kitchen. Pouring a glass of water he looked at it, golden eyes magnified in the reflection on the cup. With a sigh he brought the rim up to his lip and downed the contents in one gulp, it had been a long two days. Reached over he grabbed another glass and filled it. He was tempted to drink this one as well, but knew his patient needed it more. “Why the fuck does the man have to have wings! If he didn’t I could have pawned him off on a hospital now and not have to worry about him!”

He brought the glass up to the man’s dry lips, coaxing him into accepting the cool liquid. He finished half of it before turning his head away, unable to drink anymore. With a sigh Ed set the glass on the nightstand and pressed his hand onto the man’s forehead. Fire burned up his arm, the man was still feverish. Checking the wound he saw that the red lines looked angrier than they were earlier and the skin surrounding it was puffed and swollen. Grabbing his head, he yelled “Shit, what am I supposed to do!?”

He tried everything he could think of to bring down the man’s fever and spent an hour scouring the internet for anymore information that might work. It took him a little while before he started to think, Wait a second, he’s an angel, maybe they react differently to things like stab wounds. It was then that he crossed his arms on the bed, laid his head on top of them and fell asleep while sitting in the chair.

When darkness fell outside a faint blue glow could be seen coming from the bedroom window of a third floor apartment. Inside a small, blond teen fell deeper and deeper into unconsciousness as his energy was slowly drained away. The dark-haired man asleep next to him slowly lost the pallor in his skin as the fever that had been ravishing his body died away. The veins of infection faded from bright red to a pale pink until they disappeared completely. Puffed skin shrank. The poison that had turned the almost minor wound into a life threatening ailment was cleaned out of the man’s blood stream. The cut started closing. Then the blue glow that was center around a man named Edward Elric faded away and left the two occupants asleep in the small room.

………..

Roy Mustang awoke the next morning with a head that was clear for the first time since he had come to Earth to search. He remembered that day:

The morning sun was gently warming his cheek, the breeze tossing his hair, and the feel of the grass tickling the end of his wings. He had flapped them once, trying to adjust to the atmosphere of this world. Although the air pressures were similar to those back in Amestris, as a creature of flight he knew the currents of air intimately. To him this new atmosphere was like the touches of a new lover, cautious and bold at the same time, not to mention exhilarating.

Then a shadow fell across him. Looking up he saw a silhouetted form descending towards him. Seeing the wings he automatically assumed it was one of his men coming to help him with the search, but then he realized that he did not recognize the outline. The sun did marvelous things when a person was trying to hide their face. It was not until the knife had plunged into his shoulder, the burn of poison coursing through his blood already, that he saw the dark eyes and pale skin of his attacker. As the form retreated, leaving him for dead, he saw the long hair flowing between the dark green wings.

He had flown to what he hoped was safety before the poison did more damage. Then he took refuge in a treed area. He could see some sort of wide walkway that had homes scattered on either side from his hiding place. The first time a moving box-like contraption speed by, he almost jumped in fear. It took him a minute before his brain caught up and he remembered that they were called cars. They were one of the many things that he had been briefed on before being sent on this mission.

Soon the sun started going down. As the darkness fell lights flickered on from the posts that were scattered along the car parkway. After a few minutes of the artificial glow, they flashed once and then went out again. He hardly noticed these things though; the pain from the wound had fogged up his mind, the blood-loss had made him weak, and the poison ravaged what little was left to destroy. It was then that he saw a lone figure walking on the other opposite side of the roadway. Something about the man called to him, told him it was safe to come out. Gathering the last of his will he stumbled forward, his legs not quite functioning beneath him. Fresh waves of pain raced through him as his sensitive wings brushed across the hard bumps that were encrusted into the road.

Nausea brought him to his knees and darkness raced across his vision. When the spots cleared he saw golden eyes looking down on him in fear and wonder. Desperation made him act uncharacteristically, opening his dry lips he asked for help. Before he knew it he was being supported by a small body and moving towards a place that would hopefully offer salvation. Then the darkness had descended and taken over his mind.

Now he was awake and feeling like his normal self, the only oddity was the strange bed and room that he found himself in.

Looking around he finally noticed the golden head resting on the mattress next to him. The position that the other person was in looked less than comfortable. He gently shook the bony shoulder, trying to wake the person he assumed had helped him. All that his efforts earned was a muffled moan and an arm stretching out and landing on Roy’s lap. He blushed slightly from just where the hand had found its new home, reaching down he moved the limb off of him and back onto the mattress. Then he went back to trying to wake the other occupant, not only to relieve the other’s body from the less than comfortable position, but also because he wanted to ask some questions and get the answers that he needed.

When all other options failed, well two more attempts if he was to be honest with himself, he simply pushed the teen off of the bed, counting on his impact with the floor to do the waking. When an angry face did not pop up from the side of the mattress Roy looked over in concern and saw the form still asleep, this time curled up in a ball. Roy Mustang just glared. A grumble in his stomach took his attention off of the sleeping teen and put it on his hunger. Gingerly he attempted to stand and was relieved when his legs did not crumple beneath him. Looking down he muttered something under his breath about the laziness of youth and then made his way to the door, using the wall as support when he needed it. He recognized the kitchen when he saw it, surprised to see that it resembled the ones back home.

Opening the ice box he was disgusted by what he saw inside. There was a box of something that had started out round, but had several triangle shaped pieces missing, the small container of milk was two weeks past its expiration date and still unopened, and the few fruits and vegetables that were hidden in the drawers were soft and rotting. Closing the door on the smell that wafted off of the offending food he turned and started looking in the cupboards that ran along the walls. Pulling out random things to investigate incase they were edible he finally came across a shelf that was lined with boxes. Grabbing one at random he read the front of it, ‘Trix’ was displayed across the top and a white rabbit was standing next to a bowl full of brightly colored pieced. Opening the box revealed a plastic bag that full of the pieces that were displayed on the cover. Reaching into the bag he pulled out a handful of the substance and threw it into his mouth. Grimacing from the sweetness and artificial fruit flavorings he turned to the sink and spit it out. Reaching for the cupboard that he saw various cups in he pulled one out and filled it at the faucet. He rinsed his mouth out and then turned back to the row of boxes.

Holding an inner debate about whether or not to risk another of the brightly colored boxes, he was about to give up on his quest for nutrients when his stomach gave another rumble. Not wanting to go any longer with the empty organ attempting to chew through his spine, he reached into the cupboard one more time. This time he brought out a yellow box with a bee buzzing cheerfully across the front of it. Grabbing a couple of the small circles called ‘Cheerios’ he warily placed them on his tongue. After several moments of the granular substance rolling around in his mouth, he decided that they really did not taste that bad and reached back into the box for more. When he had his full of the small morsels he filled his glass with water once more and went back to the bedroom. Hopefully he would be able to awaken the blonde this time.

He stopped and glared at the picture that was framed so nicely by the doorway. There was the pale haired teen that had been sleeping on the floor, he was still asleep now, but somehow he had pulled himself up onto the bed. His sprawl was taking up the entire mattress. Black feathers bristled slightly as pain coursed through the winged man’s body; he had overextended his weakened form in his hunt for food. Wanting nothing more than to lie down and rest his weary limbs, he glared once more at the blonde. He had noted the sofa in the other room, it had been strewn with pillows and blankets, suggesting that it was were the offending blonde had previously been sleeping. He did not want to lie down on a sofa though; he wanted to be able to stretch out on the queen size mattress that was only a few feet in front of him, besides it would be awfully uncomfortable for his wings to be scrunched up on the narrow cushions the couch provided.

Stalking forward he contemplated about the ways he might be ably to remedy the situation in a way that would be favorable to him. He crossed his arms over his chest and then let them drop down to his sides when his healing skin was pulled painfully. He could feel the start of a migraine behind his eyes, a result of overexertion no doubt. Cursing himself for being so weak, he gave up on his idea of pushing the bed’s current occupant over the side (again), he settled for simply scooting the younger man’s body over slightly and then crawling onto the cleared space. Folding his wings around his body, Roy Mustang closed his eyes and hoped sleep would come quickly. He got his wish.

…….

Ed awoke to something soft tickling his nose. Batting his hand at the offending object he was surprised when his digits encountered silky, black feathers. He mind finally woke up and he remembered the events of the last few days, helping to explain just why there was a winged man in his apartment. But it did nothing to explain why the fuck he and the wounded angel were sharing the bed and…wait…was that the angel’s arm wrapped around his waist! He scrambled backwards, letting the offending arm slip off of him, until he fell off the side of his bed with a resounding umph. Not giving any heed to his bruised bottom he continued to stare at the black haired man. He watched in wonderment as the man simply rolled onto his side and grabbed Ed’s now vacated pillow, clutching it to his chest.

Standing up, Edward rubbed at his sore behind and raised his brow in a quizzical manner. He had no idea how he had ended up in bed with his angel and he figured that he never would know just how it had happened. Wandering out of his room, he made his way into the kitchen for more of the cold pizza that was always on hand. He stopped, shocked once again on this eerie morning, when he saw the state that his kitchen was in. There were cans scattered everywhere and all of the cupboards and drawers were wide open. A box of ‘Trix’ was knocked over, its insides scattered across the counter and floor. The ‘Cheerios’ were not in much better shape. Walking over to the sink he found half chewed cereal pieces sprayed across the stainless steel basin. He figured that his angel had gotten hungry at some point of time and had decided that the best way to curb his hunger had been to destroy the entire kitchen. He had just cleaned it too, damn it!

Sighing, he decided to clean the kitchen later and turned to get his pizza from the fridge, hoping that Mustang had not gotten to it as well as everything else. He was relieved to see his week old pizza still sitting where he had left it and grabbed a slice before turning towards his answering machine. The little red light was blinking in a menacing manner. As he bit into a pepperoni, he also pushed the play button. Immediately a robotic voice echoed through the apartment, “You have…7…new messages. First new message:”

The cold, electronic voice was then replaced by his mother’s warm one, “Edward, hunny, what’s this I’ve heard about you quitting your job at the Gap? You know that you need that money for your daily expenses. Your father and I are worried about you being alone all the way out there in North Carolina, maybe we’ll visit soon. We miss you, so does your brother. Call me when you get this message. I love you, Eddie.”

He made a face at his mother’s nickname for him as the message ended, and just how had she found out about his job already! That woman amazed him sometimes. Before he could spend anymore time contemplating the wonders of Vanessa Hayworth, the next message began. This time instead of his mother’s smooth vocals emitting from the small speaker, it was his brother’s soft ones. “Nii-san (a term of endearment Al had picked up somewhere, Ed was not sure why his younger brother always called him by it), why haven’t you called mother back yet, she’s been moping around the house. I brought a kitten home yesterday; I found her wandering the parking lot at school almost begging to be run over. I couldn’t leave her there. Mom yelled at me a bit and then threw the cat outside. It sat there meowing for ten minutes before mom finally let it back in again. Call okay? Bye.”

A soft smile played across Ed’s face, it was so like his brother to take in any stray animals he might find, just like it was completely expectable that their mom would decide to keep the creature in the end, they both had soft hearts. The next two messages were from friends wondering where he had been over the last few days. Then there was one from one of his ex-coworkers wanting to know the whole ‘knocking out a customer’ story. The next message was once again from his mother asking for her little Eddie to give her a call, the sound of a cat meowing could be heard in the background. The last message was from a voice he did not recognize, “Mr. Elric, I am calling in regards to the appointment you had set to speak with Dean Richler concerning your reinstatement into the University of North Carolina. This call is to serve as a notice that since you missed that appointment you are no longer a student of this university. An official letter should be arriving in the mail soon explaining all of the details. Have a great day!”

The blood had drained from Edward’s face as the message played, the words ‘missed appointment’ echoed through his mind long after the beep signaling the end of the messages. How was it possible that he had missed his appointment, it was scheduled for tomorrow, the 23rd of April, at ten in the morning, room 253b in the Lenoir building, catty corner to the Graham Student Union. There was no fucking way he missed it, he had remembered it too well. Besides that today was the twenty second, he had lost his job three days ago, contacted the college two days ago, and spent the previous day trying to stave off the angel’s infection. There was no way he had lost a day of his life, no possible way. Grabbing the phone and the cursed letter he punched the numbers on the receiver in correlation to the ones that were written on the white paper. After two rings a voice answered, “Dean Richler’s office, this is Debbie.”

“This is Edward Elric, I’m calling in regards to a voicemail that I received saying that I missed my appointment with the dean.” He was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming into the phone.

“Yes, our records show that the appointment was for this morning at ten. You never came. Is there something else that I can help you with?” The finality of her voice sent chills down Ed’s spine.

“You must be mistaken, my appointment is for the twenty third, and today is the twenty second. Are you sure that you are looking at the right day on your calendar?” He could not believe what was happening.

“Today is the twenty third and I really don’t appreciate your tone. You have a good day Mr. Elric.” Before Ed had the chance to respond to what the receptionist had said the line went dead. He did not return the receiver to its cradle until the beeping that signaled a phone was off the hook started going off. His hands were shaking, how could it possibly be the twenty third?

He stumbled towards his computer, powered it on, and then waited until the main page came up. Running the mouse over the clock in the lower right hand corner of the screen, praying that when the date came up it would say the twenty second. Instead a dreaded number flashed up. Desperate to prove the small icon wrong he went online and started scouring every major newspaper website he could think of, all of them confirmed the receptionist’s words. He had somehow lost what might have been the most important day of his life. Turning towards his bedroom, not sure what to do about his life now, he was startled to see the angel known as Roy Mustang standing in the doorway.

.............

A/N: I hope ya’ll enjoyed the newest installment of Wounded Angel. I’m hoping to get a chapter out every one to two weeks, but I can’t guarantee anything because of the demands of school, work, and home life. Plus my mom just started radiation therapy today, so I have yet to see how that will affect everything. Anyway, I’ve got big things in store for this story and have a good idea of where I want it to go so I should not run into too many problems writing it, like I do with some of my other stuff. I’m looking for betas for this fic. I try my best to catch any errors that I might have, but I know that there are some that I miss. If you’re interested just say so in a review and be sure to leave an e-mail address where I can reach you at. It’s a must that you have good grammar skills and are reliable to return a proofed copy within three or four days.

Wind to thy wings!

-SW