Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Feel Me, Shame Me, Heal Me ❯ Fevered Emotions ( Chapter 9 )

Disclaimer: What makes you think I could possibly own this? Just where are you getting your information? honestly!

 

Summary: Winry determined to find the Elric brothers, headed to Central. Life is definitely full of surprises, and she certainly didn't expect this one.

 

 

Feel Me, Shame Me, Heal Me

Episode 9—Fevered Emotions

 

The noise of a high pitched saw grinding something along with horrifying screams that sounded like someone was being brutally murdered was coming from the back room.

 

“Does it really hurt that much?” A dark haired man said to the red headed woman next to him, they were both sitting in a chair in the waiting room and looked up at the closed door.

 

The woman shrugged, “Well you are having your bones sawed and nerves messed with, so I would say, definitely, yes. Just think how bad this was twenty years ago when they didn't have these new fangled electric saws to cut half the time off the procedure.”

 

The man clutched his magazine tightly, one of his legs bumping up and down while he was crinkling the pages beneath death gripping fingertips. “A… are you next?” He asked wondering why this lady was so calm when the sounds of those screams were ready to make him wet himself.

 

The woman shook her head no and calmly turned the page of her book. “No, that's my husband in there. He's getting a leg.” She smiled kindly at him. “Is this your first visit?” She saw him nod, “Then I wouldn't worry, she'll probably just get some information from you, take measurements and prepare your limb. It takes a few days to get everything in order, so you wouldn't go under the saw just yet.”

 

Once the sound of the saw stopped, the man got up from his chair, grabbing his crutches and making his way over so cautiously to the door and pressed his ear to it. He could hear a feminine voice coming from the other side.

 

“Okay, Mr. Calvin. Drink this. I'm going to let your body rest for about fifteen minutes and then I'll be back to attach your new leg. I'm not going to lie and say the pain is over. I still have to connect your nerves to the wires.”

 

Footsteps were coming towards the door and it was pulled open and the man jolted back. He was staring down at the apron covering a black tube top and purple mechanic jump suit with its arms tied around her waist, that was splattered with blood and who knows what else! He lifted his head finding a youthful, lady's face. Long blonde hair kept out of her face by a pink head-wrap. There was a white face mask pulled down and hanging around her neck. “Are you…?”

 

Winry smiled and wiped her hand on the back of her apron and held it out for a proper greeting. “I'm Winry Rockbell, Automail technician and mechanic.”

 

“A…are you even old enough to be one?” He asked, not trying to hide his fear, while grasping her hand and shaking it.

 

Laughing lightly, Winry held a pair of goggles in her other hand. “I assure you I know what I'm doing. I learned under my grandmother Pinako Rockbell back in Resembool. I make the best Automail around.” She wasn't bragging it was the truth. Winry always prided herself in trying to be the best at it.

 

“Yes I heard that, that's why I came here. You repaired an arm for an older gentleman, a friend of the family, Raine Augusta.”

 

Winry's face brightened up, “Ah yes, Mr. Augusta. How is he doing these days?”

 

The man scratched the back of his head, “He's well. He hasn't had to go in for repairs yet unlike he did with that Donald Crane's work.”

 

“So what can I do for you?” Winry reached back and closed the door, giving her patient his privacy. The man before her pulled up his pant leg, showing her the stump where his foot used to be. “I need a foot.”

 

Kneeling down, she examined the stump. “How did this happen?”

 

“Mining accident about a year ago,” The man then snorted, “Well it was an explosion, my father set the charge incorrectly and several people lost their lives and others lost limbs worse than I did. This is just a foot and I can do without it... That is until Raine suggested I come see you.”

 

Standing up, Winry dusted off her hand onto her pants. “Look, sir. Do you want an Automail foot? Don't do this because someone else suggested it. You have to want it for yourself.”

 

“It would be nice not to have to use crutches anymore, but I don't know.” He said. “I don't like pain too much.”

 

Winry sighed, “Well what's a few hours of pain compared to the rest of your life with a foot you can actually use? Maybe needing some minor repairs in the future depending on how well you treat your Automail. If you go waving it around like a maniac and getting into trouble you might need really extensive repairs.”

 

He laughed, “Oh, well you don't have to worry about that. I lead a pretty quiet life. All right, I'll do it. You've convinced me.”

 

Laughing as well, Winry then smiled. “Why not have a seat and I'll start your paperwork.” She turned to the woman sitting in the chair. “Your husband is doing just fine. He'll have to stay here for about three days. I have a nurse coming in and she'll take care of his needs for him.”

 

The woman smiled, “Thank you, Winry. I know he'll appreciate all that you're doing for him.”

 

“He shouldn't try to move his Automail leg around too much because of the swelling and pain. I can prescribe some mild painkillers, but nothing too strong since I would have had worked with his nerves and need to know if there are any complications.” She heard the dark haired man sit back down, while she continued to talk to Mrs. Calvin. “He should try and stay off his leg as much as possible for about two weeks to give him time to heal before really trying to use it and then take it slowly when walking. If there are any problems let me know immediately.” She said, `unlike Edward who was up in a few days, that boy suffers more than he should.'

 

Winry went to the counter and grabbed a stack of papers from the shelf beneath it, along with her tape measure. Smiling at the dark haired man she waved him over. “How about we take your measurements, Mister...?”

 

“Jack, Jack Dobson.” He said with a smile as he stood up, using his crutches he hopped on over to her.

 

By the time Winry took information from Mr. Dobson and finished with Mr. Calvin. It was time to go home for it was already early evening.

 

Winry, feeling so tired, trudged sluggishly home to her apartment. Her face was red; it felt like it was burning. It was Monday and she was supposed to go with her friend Travin later. Reaching for her key, she opened her flat and went inside. Closing the door, and taking a deep breath she saw her sofa and headed towards it where she promptly fell flat onto it. `Just a little nap,' she said to herself while curling up and closing her eyes. `An hour should do it.' Winry sighed and in no time at all was fast asleep.

 

 

“The police aren't doing anything!” The blonde woman cried.

 

“They are doing all they can, I'm sure.” Maes said with a sad expression, while handing the woman a tissue who accepted it to wipe at her eyes.

 

Roy folded his hands and leaned forward more on his desk, it was obvious the police weren't doing enough. The police department jumped at the opportunity to be assisted by the military in these cases. Taking every account into consideration, a question came up in his mind. “Are you sure your daughter just isn't a runaway?”

The woman sniffled and shook her head, pulling out of her purse a picture of her daughter. “Fantine would never run away.” She pushed the picture towards the Colonel. “This is her, this is my girl. She was making her usual delivery rounds last evening and never came home.”

 

Both Maes and Roy looked at the photo, seeing a pretty girl with chocolate ringlet curls, honey eyes and a bright smile on her face.

“How old is she?” Maes asked, putting his hand to his chin while looking back up at the woman.

 

“Fourteen.” The woman took the picture again, “She was always happy. Fantine is not a runaway. Something happened to her, I know it!”

 

Maes sighed and looked at Roy who slowly blinked, then reaching forward and placing his hand on the photo. “Do you mind terribly, Ma'am, if I keep this? So when anything comes up I have something to recognize her by.” He watched as the woman handed him the picture and Maes let his hand curl around it.

 

Clearing his throat, Roy said. “If we hear anything, we'll let you know.”

 

“Where can we reach you?” Maes asked.

 

The woman started to stand, “We live in an apartment complex over on Maple, in number Three-E.”

 

Roy's head snapped up, nervousness prickling inside and out. “You live on Maple?” `Winry lives on Maple in Three-D…' He had to be sure it was the same building. “Is it a tall building with juniper bushes surrounding the premises?” He saw the woman nod. `Winry lives in that apartment complex!' and his heart started pounding, beating against his ribs. His outer appearance remained ever neutral. “Do you think she was being targeted? What about neighbors, did they hear or see anything?”

 

“Nothing out of the ordinary, Colonel,” The woman was finding it harder to fight her emotions. “Who would do this? Who would steal away my little girl?”

 

Reaching his hand forward, Roy patted the woman's comfortingly. “We'll do all we can Ma'am.”

 

Pulling her hand out from beneath the Colonel's, she stood. “Let me know whatever you find.” Clutching her purse tightly to her arm, she left the office.

 

Roy shoved back his chair stood up and headed for the door himself.

 

“Where ya goin' Roy?” Maes asked, catching up with him.

 

“To the apartment complex on Maple,” He pulled the door open. “There's something I have to check up on.” Stepping out of his office he headed towards the exit.

 

Maes nodded, “This is terrible. This is the fourth disappearance in not even a week.” He noticed that Roy seemed to be distracted.

 

“Yes, I realize that.” Roy stepped outside.

 

“You know…” Maes started to say, following Roy to his car. “Winry Rockbell lives in that apartment building. I know you two don't really get along but perhaps you could check up on her while you're there? With all these disappearances of young ladies, I worry about her safety.”

 

“It's always different when it's someone you know, isn't it? You get just extra cautious and a bit more paranoid, don't you?” Seeing Maes nod, knowing that the man felt a little guilty about that. Roy inserted his key into the lock and turned it. He paused a moment, he couldn't just come out and say `yes, I'm going there to check on Winry because I'm worried about her.' That would be very odd. He had to say something that would keep Maes' suspicions down. “Maes, why do you keep suggesting I talk to her? Are you trying to push the Rockbell girl on me?”

 

Maes looked surprised at that comment. “No, Roy. You two should come to some kind of understanding, that's all. It wouldn't hurt if you tried to be her friend. She could use a few here in this city.”

 

Roy gave a short nod, “What you can do is, go back to the police station and get any information on the disappearances, where the victims lived, worked, friends and whatnot. Get me whatever you can find. I'll check up on Rockbell.” `But not for you, I'll do it for myself and my own peace of mind.' Getting in he inserted the key into the ignition and pulled away.

 

Maes watched as the vehicle headed out onto the street, he was going to make sure that Roy and Winry were at least somewhat friendly towards each other. He knew it was hard to let go of the past, but they were both good people and should see the goodness in each other.

 

****

 

Rushing up the steps to the third floor and right to Winry's door, Roy noticed the apartment was dark. It was still too early for her commitment later this evening, so it wouldn't be dark yet. Roy rapped his knuckles on the wood and the door slowly popped open. It hadn't been closed all the way. “Winry?” There was no answer. It felt like his stomach had fallen into his feet and he cautiously, very slowly, not making a sound pushed the door open more, his hand in his pocket working overtime to get that damned glove on in case there was trouble.

 

His eyes scanned the dark flat not missing a single detail. He took one step forward while softly closing the door behind him. He heard a rustle and a groan from the right and his head turned sharply in that direction.

 

Roy immediately relaxed. It was Winry asleep on the couch. `Thank goodness.' He approached the sofa and reached over turning on the lamp. Sitting down on the coffee table and staring at her, his pulse was calming. She was here and safe. His eyes narrowed in concentration. Her face was so red and she was sweating, a lot. Resting his elbows on his thighs, he shifted forward. “Winry…” She moaned miserably but not giving a real answer that she had been called. “Winry,” He said again and pressed his hand to her forehead. “Hell, you're burning up.” Standing in a rush, he stripped off his uniform jacket and undid the skirt, tossing them haphazardly on the chair in the corner. Rolling up his shirt sleeves, he bent down back to her level and shook her a little more forcefully. “Winry, wake up.”

 

Winry's brow creased, and as if it took a lot of effort her eyes slowly opened. Her head was pounding as she tried to focus on who was in front of her through blurred vision. She saw a tall figure, dark hair, white shirt tucked into blue pants. Her mind was fuzzy but she knew who it was standing before her. “Roy, were we supposed to meet? Did I forget?” She couldn't for the life of her remember if she was supposed to meet him today or not. What was today anyway?

 

“No, you had a prior engagement, but you're not going.” Roy really did not like the idea of Winry going out with that Travin guy anyway, he supposed that even tragedies like this were good for something, not that he'd wished her any ill at all.

 

“Why not?” Her throat felt scratchy and she tried to clear it.

 

“Because you're ill,” Roy bent at the knees and moved his arm beneath her back and his other under her knees and picked her up from the sofa, her arm shot around his neck and held on tightly as if she were afraid he'd drop her. “Don't worry, I've got you.” He adjusted his grip so he held her against him and Winry buried her face in his chest. He carried her into her room and gently laid her on the bed. “Where do you keep your pajamas?”

 

Limply, Winry pointed to the dresser at the front of the room. “Top drawer on the right,” she was breathing harder, closing her eyes.

 

Rushing over to the dresser with a mirror above it, Roy opened the drawer and found a white button up shirt and a pair of stretch like material shorts. Grabbing them, he hurried back over to her. Helping her to sit up, she weakly slumped forward a little, pressing her weight against his shoulder. Under normal circumstances, Roy would take every opportunity to gaze at her lovely form, but not tonight. The only thing he wanted to do was help her to bed so she could rest.

 

Winry reached for her clothing that was in his lap, “I can do it.”

 

Roy did not wait and Winry didn't seem to protest when he grabbed her black top and yanked it up and off her. The poor girl was shivering terribly, while he snapped out her nightshirt. Putting it around her shoulders, he helped her push her arms through the arm holes, pulling the lapels closed where he proceeded to button them. Next he had her lay down where he gently gripped her purple mechanic jumpsuit and uniting the arms from around her waist, pulled them off. Roy helped her into her stretchy shorts. Pulling the blankets back on her bed, he pulled them over her and tucked her in tightly.

 

She was looking up at him in confusion, and all he did was give her a soft smile before reaching up and taking her pink head-wrap off her head. Her blonde hair was damp and fell around her shoulders. Winry was about to say something, when he cupped her cheek, and trailing his thumb across her lips.

 

“Shh, just rest.” He watched as she nodded and closed her eyes. Roy was relieved that there were no arguments from her whatsoever. Being sick certainly does sap one's strength. He quietly left the room, closing her door part way.

 

Walking to the light switch by the front door, he flipped it on and the entire flat filled with light rather than just the small living room. A loud knock came from the door and he turned around to face it. He wasn't going to answer it until her heard whose voice was behind it.

 

“Winry? It's Travin, can I come in?”

 

Roy's eyes narrowed at the door and he held in his threatening growl. Turning the knob he pulled the door open part way, seeing the young man on the other side whose eyes widening slightly. “What do you want?” Roy's tone was unfriendly as was his facial expression.

 

Who is this guy?! Travin silently seethed. Maintaining a kindly expression, he cleared his throat, “Uh, Winry was supposed to go with me tonight to the—”

 

“—Winry's not going, she's ill.” He tried to close the door, but that foolish young man shoved his foot in the way. Of all the nerve!

 

“Well, can I see her?”

 

“No.” Roy really did not want to waste any of his time talking to this person. “Talk to her some other time. I don't think she would appreciate it if let someone in to see her when she's ill. Would you?”

 

“I guess not.” Travin said with regret.

 

Roy snorted, “There's no guess about it.” He wanted to rip this guy's head off and kick it across town.

 

“Gee, someone's hostile.” Travin was sarcastic which earned him a stern glare from the man at the door.

 

“I'm looking out for Miss Rockbell's best interest, which if she were smart and she is, would realize that you are not it.” Roy slammed the door in the idiot's face.

 

Travin scoffed at the door, well that was just plain rude. Winry was sick? How terrible, he really wanted to spend the evening with her. Not much could be done with that, whoever he was in the way. He'd find out if this guy was someone to worry about, he saw sister talking to him a few nights ago. Travin would come back another day, hopefully when that other guy wasn't here. He turned and headed away, thinking… `hmm, I wonder what that Scieszka is up to tonight?' He went to go find out.

 

Roy looked back at her room at her partially closed door and let out a deep frustrated breath. He didn't know if he should leave her when she's sick like this. What if she got worse and had to be rushed to the hospital. That settled it, he would stay to see if she improved in her health. Sitting on the arm of the couch, Roy removed his boots and lined them up against the wall next to the door. He wondered when the last time it was that she ate. A sick person should have plenty of fluids. It wasn't like he could call Maes to bring anything over…Roy would have to make something himself…he cringed. Well he'd do it for her. Hopefully it wouldn't make her throw up…too much.

 

Walking to the small shelf in the kitchen he drew his finger along their bindings and found a few books of recipes, pulling one down he opened it up searching for… ah-hah. This recipe for soup should be adequate. `First, boil some water. Hmm, that should be easy enough.' Roy thought as he carried the book back to the counter and proceeded to search for where she kept the pans…

 

The chicken he found in the icebox was boiling nicely. He had the few carrots, onions and celery along on the counter along with the jars of spices which he didn't know which he would use so he had them all out. Roy continued to read the recipe this time out loud to himself, “Salt lightly…” He glimpsed the jar with the small white granules and reached for it while keeping his eyes on the book and shook the jar over the pan. Then grabbing the spoon he tasted it, his mouth twisted in disgust and he spit it out in the sink. “What the hell?” He looked at the small jar in his hand; his thumb was covering over all the letters except the S. He moved his thumb. “Sugar!” He slammed the jar down on the counter, surprisingly it did not break. Using the mitts he grabbed the pan off the stove and sloshed it into the sink.

 

…After Roy had gotten back from the butcher, the new chicken was boiling nicely in the pan. He trailed his finger along the next sentence, “Carrots, celery and onion, chop finely. All right then.”

 

Winry opened her eyes, glancing tiredly around her room. She heard an “Ow, shit!” She wondered what was he doing in there? She tried to move to sit up, but found herself to be positively out of energy, and she slinked back into the blankets, closing her eyes again.

 

An hour later Roy stared down at the now bowl of soup on the counter. “No food product is going to get the best of me.” He cried, planting his hands on his hips triumphantly. And it didn't taste half bad.

 

The moment her door was pushed open, Winry's eyes popped open. Her brow creasing in both pain and confusion, “What are you doing?” She whispered.

 

“Here, you should eat this. I read this soup is supposed to make you feel better.” Roy said softly, holding a tray of soup and a glass of water.

 

“Where did it come from?” She asked looking at him tiredly.

 

Balancing the tray with one hand, Roy gestured to himself with his thumb. “I made it.”

 

Winry blinked, “You did?” She held the blankets around her tighter as she shivered. Even though she was sick, she felt her heart tighten just a tiny bit. “You made it for me?” Seeing him nod once and look away from her. Winry coughed a little. “But I don't want tire soup.”

 

Roy's lips pursed and he arched his brow at that crack at his food. He did tell her that whatever he makes usually ends up tasting like old tires. So yeah, he deserved that. “It doesn't taste like tires, I promise.” He walked closer to her beside as she moved to sit up and he placed the tray in her lap. “I hope you realize that I don't just do this for everyone. In fact, I don't do this at all.”

 

She gave him a tired smile, “So you can be nice, I'm touched.” She really was and it was expressed the way her whole face lit up. She couldn't see it in the partial darkness but Roy's cheeks were tinted pink at her expression and kind words.

 

“Right,” He cleared his throat and looked behind him at the open door, “I'll be right out there if you need anything.”

 

“You don't have to stay here, I'll be fine. It's not like I haven't been sick before. I'm sure you have more important things to do.” Winry said feeling strange at the fact that he would really stay here for her. He even made her food; it was very sweet if him to do this…she sighed staring down at the tray in her lap.

 

“Nothing is more important than seeing that you are well.” Roy pointed to the soup, “Now no more talking, eat that.” He quickly turned and left the room.

 

Winry scooped some of the chicken and vegetable soup in the spoon and brought it to her lips, taking a very small taste, testing it out. It was actually pretty good, he was right at least it didn't taste like tires. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the main light go off, only the dimmer lamp from the small living room was still on.

 

Getting comfortable on the sofa, Roy stretched out his legs and crossed his arms over his chest, the back of his head resting on the soft arm cushion. Intending on getting a little rest himself, he heard Winry's bedroom door creak open. He looked in the direction of the noise, hearing feet padding across the floor. Winry stood between her bedroom and the living space with a blanket draped over her shoulders. “What are you doing up? Get back in there.” Roy gestured with a wave of his finger.

 

Staring at the floor, Winry shifted back and forth on her feet nervously in what she was about to do before moving towards him, coming to stand right between the sofa and the coffee table. He was looking up at her strangely. Taking a deep breath, she said, “D…don't think this…er…I don't want to be in there by myself. Would it be all right if…?” Her face was burning and she didn't know if it was from the fever or not. “Can I stay out here…with you?” Her heart pounded hard and she felt dizzy. She would definitely blame this behavior on her fever.

 

A light smile spread across Roy's face, how could he say no? Even if it was just her fever talking, he kind of hoped it wasn't. He gave her a short nod. “If that's what you want.” She hesitantly moved forward, and Roy held his arms out as she moved to lay down pressing her body close to his and she seemed to melt into him. One of his legs went in between hers and he placed the blanket over the both of them after she finished squirming around and getting comfortable. Winry rested her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes, her arms going around him tightly.

 

Reaching up, Roy turned off the lamp making the room completely dark, then holding her to him. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and she sighed contently when he started to run his fingers through her hair.

 

“Roy?” She asked, sounding half asleep.

 

“Hmm?”

 

She sighed deeper, “I like it when you…” Winry started to trail off and Roy looked down at the top of her head and nudged her a little.

 

“What do you like?” She liked something he did? He had to know more! Roy lightly nudged her again. “Winry?”

 

“Oh…” She sighed again, “I like it when…you do that.” She squeezed him tighter, sighing deeper.

 

“What? Do you like this?” His rubbed her scalp with sure but gentle fingers and she made a little pleased sound.

 

“Mm-hmm. Just…just don't tell him.” Winry barely said, so quiet and so light, “Don't tell… Roy that, that I like when he does that.”

 

Roy grinned pleased and kissed the top of her head. “Your secret is safe with me.” And he trailed his fingers softly through her hair as he finally let her sleep.

 

Was he actually starting to care about this girl, it sure seemed so. He had never before done anything like this in his life for another, not even a woman he was romancing. Instead of rushing out because she was ill, he hadn't thought about leaving her at all. He just went right to taking care of her, making sure Winry was as comfortable as possible. `What are you doing to me?' He asked her silently in his head. Was this a good thing or a bad one? The strange thing was, for the first time in his life, he really wanted to find out.

 

======

Well that's it for episode 9. Are things starting to change for our two stubborn characters? Lets hope so!

 

Until next time!

 

Thanks for reading,
Ryoko Blue