highwaytosickfics

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we should call it this again

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PSA for fanfic writers

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Whumpuary 2025!

these prompts came together through community submissions and then a voting form where people voted for their favorites, here are the top 53 prompts

i want to try a slightly new format where there are still only 15 days for creation prompts but with additional community prompts/questions. those are entirely voluntary but are here to possibly inspire some community interaction and trying new things

i'm excited to see some awesome creations in january!

go here for info/rules/tagging go here for faqs

text version of the prompts and rules is under the cut

(image description note: there are 31 numbered prompts, on each odd number the text color is black and on even numbers the text color is white)

Whumpuary 2025

a whump-themed multi media creation event for january

create for at least one prompt from each odd/black number to complete the challenge community prompts (even/white) numbers are voluntary

main prompts

1. sacrifice | headache | "this will hurt" 2. how did you find the whump community? 3. choice | storm | black eye 4. what are your favorite whump tropes? 5. "do you trust me" | manhandled | chills 6. share your favorite whump creations (others or yours!) 7. unfair fight | insomnia | "no one is coming" 8. what media genre do you like whump in? 9. trapped under rubble | gunpoint | out of time 10. write your own whump prompt 11. "i didn't ask for this" | blood | abandoned 12. create something in a new/less familiar medium 13. close call | sleep | choking 14. what's your favorite character dynamic? 15. handcuffed | dead | "please, stop" 16. leave a comment on a whump fic/art/creation 17. drugged | "i'm glad you're alive" | revenge 18. favorite whump medium? (movie, book, art, ...) 19. "let them go" | overworked | head injury 20. send a nice message to someone in the community 21. bruises | "who are you?" | immortality 22. take 10 minutes to work on a wip 23. backhand slap | alone | "i can't do this anymore" 24. what do you take inspiration in? 25. "i'm fine" | missing | drowsiness 26. draw/doodle something whumpy 27. stuck in a loop | twisting the knife | rescue 28. find a creator in the #whumpuary tag and send them an ask 29. kidnapped | "don't leave me" | devotion 30. make a whump meme 31. say something nice about your own work

alt prompts

hiding impaled "i'm fine" rain betrayal hair pulling darkness falling

rules & info

-any medium is allowed (art, writing, gifs, edits, ...) -prompts are open for interpretation (but the context does have to be whumpy) -create for at least one of three prompts on creation prompt days (black/odd numbers) to complete the challenge -if you're not aiming for completionist you can do however many prompts you want any way you want -community prompts (white/even numbers) are voluntary and don't count for completionist (but can be combined with creation prompts if applicable) -use alt prompts to replace main prompts you don't like some works posted on tumblr will be reblogged if tagged correctly -#whumpuary2025 -#whumpuaryno1 (number of the prompt(s)) -#sacrifice #head injury #"i'm fine" (the prompt(s) you're using) -any trigger/content warning tags -any additional tags (fandom, oc, other used tropes, ...)

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me as a writer

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No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

AO3 Link

(fic under cut)

“Hey Naruto, why are you walking like that?” 

“Hmm?” Naruto tilted his head a bit, confused at Sakura’s sudden question as Team 7 was heading back to the Hokage’s office to turn in their latest mission report. “Like what?”

“What do you mean ‘like what’? Why are you limping?” Sakura’s words caused Sasuke and Kakashi to look back towards Naruto, who had been trailing farther behind them than he normally would. 

“I didn’t think I was?” And yet, the rest of the squad could see that Sakura was correct; as Naruto walked towards them, they could see the boy’s gait was off. It seemed like he was unconsciously favoring his right leg, his left foot barely skimming the gravel of the trail but never quite touching the ground.

“Have you been walking like that all day, Naruto?” Kakashi asked, mentally kicking himself for not noticing it sooner.

“...” Naruto looked to Sakura for help, clearly unsure of how to answer about the limp he hadn’t noticed.

“...Yeah, he has.” Sakura finally answered for him after a minute. “I thought he was just doing it for attention or because he thought it looked cool, but-”

“Wait, did it look cool?”

“No, you idiot! It looked like you were hurt! Which you might be!”

“Naruto, would you mind letting me take a look?” Kakashi interrupted, already guiding the blond to the closest bench on their path.

Naruto removed his sandal, letting Kakashi carefully inspect the ankle. It was slightly bent in an awkward direction and a bit swollen. When his fingers accidentally brushed the bone, the ankle suddenly pulled away with a pained sounding yelp.

“How bad does it look sensei?” Sakura asked.

“Will we have to amputate?” Sasuke added sarcastically.

“Hey!” Naruto snapped at the Uchiha, protectively holding his leg.

“Well, I’m not exactly a medical-nin,” Kakashi replied. “but it seems like your ankle healed wrong after a fracture. We’ll have to go to the hospital so they can re-break the bone and set it properly.”

“What?!" Naruto paled, holding his leg tighter.

“How the heck have you been walking around on a malunion fracture?!” While Naruto was in shock, Sakura immediately went into lecturing mode. Her tone held a mix of anger and concern. “When did you break it?!”

“I don’t know!” Naruto whined back. “I mean…I guess I might’ve hurt it when we were chasing that cat before. My ankle twisted when I landed from one of the trees.”

“When we were chasing…Naruto that mission was last week and fractures take months to heal! How could you manage to-”

“Let’s not focus on the details.” Kakashi interrupted, clearly attempting to change the subject.

“But sensei, that doesn’t make any sense-”

“How about I take Naruto to the hospital to get his ankle checked out,” Kakashi cut her off again, ignoring the pout from the pink-haired girl. “And after you and Sasuke deliver the mission report to the Hokage, you can have the rest of the afternoon off.”

Kakashi watched amused as Sakura weighed her options; clearly whatever happened to Naruto was some kind of weird medical miracle, and she’d been thinking about learning some medical ninjutsu to be more helpful on the battlefield. Theoretically, she should go with them to get some more insight…on the other hand, she could have the whole afternoon to go on a date with Sasuke…

“Deal.” Sakura was quick to grab Sasuke by the arm, pulling him along with her on the trail to the Hokage’s office. “Later Naruto, have fun at the hospital!”

“I won’t!” Naruto yelled back as Kakashi lifted him into a piggyback-ride. When the student-teacher duo was finally alone, Naruto turned his attention back to his sensei. “So, about my ankle healing…it’s hard to explain…”

“It’s fine, Naruto, I know what happened.” Kakashi clarified as he started jumping through the trees, barely burdened by the student on his back. “You’re an Uzumaki and the jinchuuriki of the Nine-Tailed Fox, it’s natural that you’d heal faster than the average person…though in this case, it doesn’t appear to have been a positive trait.”

“Oh thank the Third you already know about- wait, what does being an Uzumaki have to do with me healing fast?”

“Everyone from the Uzumaki clan has a strong life-force, so they naturally heal faster.”

“...How come you know that, but I don’t?”

“I know a lot of things you don’t know.” Kakashi replied, not elaborating on that statement at all before they reached the hospital’s entrance.

=

The resulting surgery to re-break Naruto’s ankle left in the hospital for a few days before they sent him home with a cast (specifically an orange cast, at the boy’s insistence) that didn’t come off until about two weeks later. Sakura was still suspicious on how her teammate was able to bounce back so quickly, but now at the very least Naruto knew he could use his lineage as an excuse.

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No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

AND

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

Yes I know Whumptober is over, but in my defense...I'm slow

AO3 Link

(fic under cut)

“Fireball Jutsu!”

FWOOSH!

A ball of flames moves just above the river, stopping halfway across. The boy creating the flames blows harder, reaching out his hands in a way that suggests he’s attempting to flatten the ball into a line. Unfortunately, the boy’s lungs just don’t have enough air and the jutsu falters, flames falling and dying in the water below. 

Sasuke fell to his knees and looked across the river to see the target of his attack; a single apple he’d placed on the rocks mere inches away from the water, completely untouched by his attempt. He groaned in frustration, his fist punching the ground below and feeling instant regret at the jolt of pain that shot through his arm as a result.

“Why the fuck am I even here?” A valid question; It was the hottest day in Konoha’s history and Kakashi had canceled training for the day so they could stay home and keep cool. Yet here Sasuke was, sweating his everything off in the middle of the day, practicing a fire jutsu of all things because of a stupid idea-

“I was wondering something similar myself.” Sasuke was quick to get up into a fighting stance, headrush punishing him for the sudden change. He looked to see who’d interrupted his training, the voice sounded familiar but…for some reason, he couldn’t place who it belonged to. His vision was hazy, and maybe the heat was getting to him, but the person there looked like…

“...Nii-san?” Sasuke squinted and caught sight of the other person’s eyes widening a fraction. “What’re you…you here to kill me or…?”

 “Of course not, I just…a little birdie told me you were training nearby, and I figured that I’d check up on you. Is that alright?” Somehow that didn’t seem right; who would’ve ratted on him in the first place?

‘Probably Naruto, that dumbass…’ He’d only told Naruto where he was going because they’d run into each other on his way to the training grounds. The blond had been hanging out at Ichiraku Ramen to escape the heat because his A/C was broken and the owner was generous enough to let him hang around the shop (provided that he washed some dishes, but Naruto hadn’t seemed too bothered by that).

Regardless, Sasuke was pretty sure he didn’t want his brother hanging around but…why was that again? The genin blinked as he tried to remember, getting distracted by the spots forming in his vision. Did his brother trap him in a Tsukiyomi? It almost felt like the world was distorting around him and he found himself pitching forward. Something caught him before he hit the ground (a hand?) and he heard someone calling him, but for some reason he couldn’t process the words.

=

The Uchiha woke up lying back first on the grass. His forehead felt bare, causing him to panic for a moment before he realized it was folded next to him. Then Sasuke realized he wasn’t lying entirely flat; his legs were being propped up by what looked to be a green jacket. Did he faint?

“Well, look who's back in the world of the living.” Sasuke pitched himself up, regretting it immediately when his head pounded.

Sasuke turned to the voice and saw his Kakashi sitting next to him. “Sensei…wha’ happened?”

“Well, I stopped by the ramen shop for lunch today and Naruto said he hadn’t seen you come back from training yet-”

“That traitor.”

“-So I decided to check up on you.” Kakashi continued, ignoring his student cursing out his blond rival. “And I’m glad I did. I don’t exactly have any medical ninjutsu, but even I can tell you have some sort of heat exhaustion.”

“...” Sasuke took a moment to process the diagnosis, the symptoms he was experiencing earlier starting to line up clearly with what was being said. But then, that’d mean… “Were you the one that caught me earlier?”

“...Yes, I did…”

“Then that means…” Sasuke flushed in embarrassment, “Oh my god, I called my sensei ‘Nii-san’”

Kakashi laughed watching his student struggle with the realization. “That was certainly a shock, though in hindsight I’ll take that as a compliment; I’ve heard from Asuma that Shikamaru had a similar mixup once, though in that case he called him ‘Dad’.”

Sasuke found himself laughing at the story, then wincing when his head throbbed. “Ow.”

“Alright, I should probably get you to the hospital and make sure they check you out.” The genin found himself being moved onto his sensei’s back.

“I can walk!” Sasuke complained as he protested the piggyback ride.

“Your dramatic swoon to the ground earlier tells me otherwise.”

Sasuke grumbled about Kakashi treating him like the kid he didn’t think he still was, but didn’t push away once the jonin started moving. He ended up feeling reminded of his younger days, back before everything was so complicated…back when his brother would carry him back home, just like this.

“Thanks…sensei…”

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Naruto shippuden ep 209 capter (idk)

The last picture is my own additive.

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Sketch commission for @jarred-bees !! More pages under the cut!

Gai: Still with me, Tenzou? Yama: Nm! yeah... Gai: Something's wrong Yama: I don't sense anyone following Gai: No, with him. He's not moving right [Whistle] Kks: What's wrong. Gai: We need to stop. Tenzou needs to rest a moment. Yama: What?! Gai, I'm-

Kks: 30 minutes. [yamato groaning] Gai: Bleeding a little still, but should be good. I'm going to check on him too. Flare your chakra with this if you sense danger. Yama: What are you getting at, gai? He always acts like this on our missions. [huffs] ....Hello. [wheeze panting] [grooooooan] Kks: Uuh

Kks: You left Tenzou alone. Gai: I cannot carry you both. We should camp for the night. Kks: That's not happening. I just needed a second. Gai: Are your ribs broken, Kakashi? Kks: He needs to be seen by a medic soon. Gai: He's not in lethal condition. You're in no shape to- Kks: IT'S MY CALL, GAI. SO JUST DROP IT! Gai: Do you not trust me to protect Tenzou? Kks: Of course I do Gai: Listen to me, Tenzou's ok, Kakashi. I'm safe. You're safe. No one's going to die on your watch. It was a close call. But /you/ sacrificed yourself to get us out of there. You've gone above and beyond, please trust me to get all of us home

Gai: Easy, I've got you! [yamato chuckles as the tortoise crunches on a leaf] Pakkun: Oh! yo, Tenzou Gai: Change of plans Yamato: Senpai?

Biscuit: It's all clear, Gai, you can rest your eyes. Gai: I can endure it..... [muffles talking] Gai: Eat more, Tenzou! You need your strength! Yamato: yeah yeah Kks: Mm! [kks bumps gai's arm] Gai: Biscuit, stop licking him

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No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

this one's pretty tame and alot shorter than the previous 2, but I felt like it'd be a funny twist on this prompt.

AO3 Link

(fic under cut)

“I warned you guys!” It was a rare occurrence that Sakura would scold Sasuke with Naruto. The pink-haired girl wanted to be seen in the best light possible by her crush, but this time…this time she was furious with the both of them. “Why would either of you think this was a good idea?!”

“Ehehehe, c’mon Sakura it’s not too ba-AH!” Naruto’s awkward chuckling was cut off by a yelp. “Kakashi-sensei what the fuck?!”

“Language, Naruto.” Kakashi chided, wrapping the cold compress closer to his student’s fresh burn. “I’d have to agree with Sakura here, I just can’t understand why either of you thought it’d be a good idea to try roasting marshmallows with the fireball technique.”

“Would’ve worked if that dumbass actually put the marshmallows on the sticks right.” Sasuke grumbled.

“It would’ve worked if someone hadn’t decided to activate it on the firewood before I finished the countd-OW!”

“You’re both stupid! How did you manage to catch Naruto’s hand on fire making s’mores?!”

“His hand was in the way of the wood.”

“You were supposed to wait to light it!”

“Well I’m sorry, I thought it would be faster to light the wood first!”

“Now now,” Kakashi cut off the bickering between the two rivals. “Once we get Naruto’s hand properly taken care of, why don’t we try making s’mores again. This time without lighting anyone’s hands aflame?”

The group went silent for a few moments, before finally agreeing to their sensei’s suggestion. By the time they got to the hospital, the burn on Naruto’s hand had mostly healed. Not wanting Sakura and Sasuke to be suspicious of their teammate’s recovery speed, Kakashi still had the medics prescribe Naruto some burn ointment to use ‘until the burn was completely gone’.

The s’mores they made the next day were delicious, and thankfully had resulted in fewer injuries.

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No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

fair warning, i can't guarantee quality or that it relates very well to the prompt, but i spent...*checks calendar* 2 weeks writing it and I don't want to keep spiraling on it, so here you go

AO3 Link

(story under cut)

Kakashi’s friends had given him a lot of advice when he finally found a team he’d deemed worth training. He was often told to be patient, which was an easy task; years of ANBU training and missions had made waiting as easy as breathing. 

They’d also tell him to treat and train all of his students equally, though that was far more difficult given that his students all had different things they needed to improve on. Plus the people that usually gave him that piece of advice clearly weren’t following it themselves (it wasn’t exactly difficult to tell who Guy’s favorite student was at the very least).

One thing his friends hadn’t warned him about, however, was what to do when a student didn’t show up. So when Kakashi had shown up to their gathering spot (late as per usual) and saw that Naruto still hadn’t arrived, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do. Should they wait? They were already late…

Luckily the silver-haired sensei didn’t need to think to long about it, however.

“That idiot!” Sakura cursed, pushing herself up from where she’d been leaning on the bridge. “Can’t believe he’s still pulling this kind of stuff! He’s a genin!”

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Sakura?” Kakashi asked.

“Naruto’s not here!” Sakura replied, steaming a bit even though she was still doing her best to keep her cool. “He used to skip from time to time back in the academy, I bet he’s just running around somewhere causing trouble.”

“I didn’t think Naruto would be the type to skip out on training.”

“He doesn’t.” Sasuke interjected. “Not usually, anyway. Let’s just get started, he’s probably training by himself or something.”

Sakura still seemed a bit annoyed, but she followed Sasuke nonetheless as he started walking towards the training grounds. The pink-haired girl made some comment about wanting to train alone with Sasuke, but Kakashi had already drowned out their chatter while thinking about his missing student.

It was easy to imagine the blond skipping out on academy lectures, but he knew the kid was always eager to train. It also wouldn’t be odd for Naruto to train by himself, but…if that were the case, he’d would’ve let Kakashi know in advance.

The silver-haired sensei found himself summoning Pakkun before he had time to think much about it, sending the small but fast pug to locate the blond while he focused on coming up with his lesson plan for the day.

=

It took longer for Pakkun to come back than Kakashi had expected, with the pug scampering over right around lunchtime. 

“Found him, he's at home.” The dog mumbled softly enough that he could only be heard by his master. “Doesn't seem like he's doing too good though, think he might be sick.”

‘...He can get sick?’ The silver-haired man’s eye widened a bit at the realization before admonishing himself. Of course he could get sick; regardless of his Uzumaki healing or the nine-tailed fox inside him, Naruto was still a child…one that was currently living alone in a shitty apartment, with no one to care for or even check up on him…

“Seems like this will have to be a half day.” Kakashi calmly announced to his other students, who looked up from their bento boxes confused. “I'm being called for a solo mission.”

Sasuke grumbled something under his breath, obviously annoyed at his training being cut short. Sakura seemed more amicable to the idea, however, and took the opportunity to drag Sasuke with her under the excuse that she wanted him to walk her home.

Kakashi, meanwhile, decided to pick up some supplies before making his way to the blond’s apartment. He didn’t even bother knocking on the door, instead hopping up to the roof and going in through the window. It was probably concerning that Naruto didn’t always remember to lock them, that’d be a lecture for another time.

The bed beside the window was empty, with the comforter half-way falling off as though it’d been ripped away in a hurry. Kakashi slipped inside, successfully avoiding the scrolls on the floor his student hadn’t remembered to put away. The room was quiet and dark, but he could hear coughs and retches from one of the other rooms. He rested the plastic bag he’d brought near the bed, taking a water bottle from it and further entering the apartment to find the source of the noise. It didn’t take long to find that the door to the water closet was open, allowing him to see Naruto dry-heaving into the porcelain throne.

Kakashi waited for the dry heaves to calm into panting before sitting down in the hall next to his ailing student. Naruto jolted at his sensei’s sudden appearance. 

“Ka…” The blond tried calling out to him, but his throat cracked at the attempt and left both of them wincing at the sound.

“Try and drink some of this first.” Kakashi opened the water bottle he was holding and handed it to Naruto. “Slowly, unless you want it to come back up.”

The kid just nodded, taking slow sips of the cold water like it was the most precious thing in the universe. Once half the bottle was gone, he tried again even though he seemed to be having trouble finding the words. “Thanks…Kakashi-sensei, what are you…aren’t you supposed to be training right now?”

“I decided to make it a half-day.” Kakashi responded. “I noticed that a certain student of mine hadn’t shown up, so I thought it’d be good to do a ‘wellness check’.”

“Oh…you thought I was skipping, didn’t you?”

“I can’t say the thought didn’t cross my mind,” Naruto winced at what almost sounded like an accusation. “But I figured you would’ve told me directly if you didn’t like the training we were doing, rather than skipping it entirely. I suspected the cause might’ve been a bit more serious…and clearly I was correct.”

“Yeah…” Naruto gave a weak looking smile. “Sorry to worry you over something like this. I get minor bugs like this sometimes-”

“Naruto, I’m not sure a ‘minor’ bug would have someone vomiting their guts out.”

“They don’t last very long though, really!” Naruto whined. “It’s usually just like this for a day or two, then I feel all better.”

‘That’s probably because of the Uzumaki healing mixed with the nine-tails chakra.’ Kakashi thought to himself. ‘His recovery progress is sped up, but it seems to be at the cost of making his symptoms more severe.’

“Hmm…” To test his theory, Kakashi moved to lay a hand on Naruto’s forehead before quickly drawing it back. Even without contact, the heat coming off him was near scalding. “When was the last time you checked your temperature?”

“I haven’t really checked it, I kinda…broke mine the last time I used it and haven’t gotten around to replacing it yet.”

“You…you broke the thermometer?”

“Yeah, it was a glass one too. That was awful to clean up-”

“You cleaned it up by yourself?!”

“I mean, yeah? Who else would’ve done it?” Naruto tilted his head in confusion. 

“...” It truly dawned on Kakashi then that, besides the 3rd Hokage giving him a monthly allowance, literally no one was watching over this kid’s well-being. Did anyone else know that Naruto was sick? That he even could get sick? How many times had Naruto suffered by himself in his apartment, without someone to give him medicine or water or…”Naruto, when you get sick like this, did you remember to call out sick from school?”

“I could’ve done that?!”

Kakashi pinched at the bridge of his nose, this kid was going to be the death of him. “Well, that answers why you didn’t just tell me you were sick…”

“I’m sorry sensei.” Naruto looked down with a sad, apologetic look that Kakashi knew he couldn’t get mad at. It was the same look his ninken would give him whenever they went against orders or failed a task for a mission.

“It’s alright,” Kakashi’s hand moved to ruffle the blond’s hair. Naruto initially flinched at the touch, but when Kakashi was about to withdraw his hand he leaned into it. “I suppose it would’ve been hard to call me like this. But next time you feel like you’re coming down with something, you need to let me know alright?”

“Yeah, promise.” Naruto mumbled, losing focus as his sensei’s hand continued gently ruffling his hair. The poor kid looked exhausted. “Can’t end up collapsing on a mission or something, right?”

“Even if there wasn’t a mission involved, I’d want to know.” Kakashi replied. “I’d be happy to stop by for another wellness check.”

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No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

idk if I'll do any more prompts, but I've been peeking through the Naruto fandom...as someone that hasn't finished Shippuden or Boruto, I've mainly been skimming the wiki.

Anyways, I've been living with a headcanon that Naruto and Shikamaru are both "wife guys" ala Mae Hughes and...like it's probably ooc, but...

here's two overworked overcaffienated dudes with anxiety, one of them is having a panic attack, both of them love their hot wives

AO3 Link

(story under cut)

“You need to breathe, dumbass.” Those weren’t exactly the most comforting words Shikamaru could’ve used, but they were all he could muster at the moment. 

The village had hit a sort of busy season in terms of missions; an era of peace meant a lot more smaller, safer (usually) jobs that ninja would usually complete in record time. Piled on top of that were endless other documents about expanding their infrastructure, technology, education, agriculture…they were all needed advancements that benefited Konoha as a whole, but for the Hokage and his advisor it meant being swamped in paperwork that never seemed to stop coming in. They really needed to divvy some of this stuff up to smaller departments, but that would involve interviewing and hiring trustworthy people which involved so much time…and paperwork.

This wasn’t usually an issue; Naruto was always up for a challenge and, being the jinchuriki of the nine-tailed fox, had almost boundless energy. Despite Shikamaru’s lazy reputation, he found Naruto’s energy to be pretty contagious and it kept them both up and working…for a while, anyway.

They were about a week (or maybe two weeks? It was hard to count the days) into catching up on paperwork, and they were just about finished. There were just a few more papers to process, and then…they’d have more papers waiting for them tomorrow…today…in a few hours, but maybe they could both go home and sleep in an actual bed. They’d been taking turns sleeping on a couch in the other room (well, mostly Shikamaru), but it was old and stuffy and unbearably uncomfortable. They were running on fumes and caffeine at this point. Shikamaru’s throat burned at the thought of brewing another coffee pot, but he felt even more nauseous looking at the full trash can of energy drinks and empty ramen cups at his Hokage’s desk.

“I…I just…” The same Hokage who, at the moment, was curled up on the floor and hyperventilating. Naruto wasn’t the first person Shikamaru ever would have suspected to be prone to panic attacks, but when he thought about it the idea wasn’t too far-fetched; growing up with literally everyone hating you for unexplained reasons could give anyone anxiety. The caffeine and lack of sleep were definitely not helping the situation.

“Breathe slowly.” Luckily for the both of them, Shikamaru had enough practice dealing with his own anxiety to know what to do. Even if he was working on a tenth of his usual brain power. He felt the blond next to him breathe slower and deeper in an attempt to calm down. “Five things you can see?”

“What? Um…the floor, my shoes, the desk…the papers that fell off my desk…”

“Don’t think too much about that, what’s your fifth thing?”

“The door.”

“Alright, four things you can touch?”

“Are we really doing this right now?”

“Apparently we are.”

Naruto groaned in some kind of complaint, but he played along with the exercise anyway. “The floor again, my prosthetic…the Hokage robes I’m definitely getting dirty sitting like this-”

“And?”

“My hair.” He ran his fingers through his hair, getting one of his fingers caught on a knot. “Next is things I can hear, right? Hmm…the light buzzing above us, my computer fan…”

“Can’t think of a third?”

“Well I can now, your voice.” Naruto chuckled. “Two things I can smell is easy, paper and whatever’s rotting in the trash.”

“I think it’s leftover ramen.”

Naruto looked slightly offended at the accusation. “I would never-”

“You only ate half of it at lunch.” Shikamaru interrupted, causing the blond to pout for a moment. “One left.”

“Something I can taste…acid, mostly.” Naruto absentmindedly moved his arm over his stomach, which was rolling from the energy drink he’d slammed down barely an hour ago to keep himself awake.

“Want me to bring in an empty bucket?” Shikamaru asks, already grabbing the trash bin from his desk.

“Not now, but…thanks. Sorry if I’m being ‘troublesome’”

Shikamaru chuckled at the familiar word. “Don’t worry about it. So…you want to tell me why we ended up on the floor again? It’s fine if you don’t want to, but…I know talking helps.”

“No, I can talk about it, it’s just…it’s a bit stupid-”

“Most things you worry about tend to be stupid.”

“Rude!” Naruto snapped back, but the tone was light and his advisor’s jabs were merely playful at worst. “It’s about Hinata. I’m barely ever at home anymore, and anytime I manage to get back I’m always exhausted. I’m only now just starting to get a feel for what it takes to be the Hokage, but it feels like I’m missing everything else important as a result. Sometimes I just…I get scared that she’ll-”

“Get sick of you and leave?”

“Yeah!” The blond sniffled like the kid he still was at heart. “Why does she settle for someone like me? She’s hot, talented, rich…god, she’s hot…”

“Naruto.”

“She just…she deserves someone better than me.”

“I mean…it’s not like I haven’t thought of something similar before.”

“Hey-”

“Not about you, dumbass! About…me and that troublesome woman.”

Naruto stared at Shikamaru in utter disbelief. “What the fuck are you talking about?! You and Temari are the perfect couple!”

“We are not! She’s the one that’s perfect, I’m just-”

“Shikamaru, you’re ‘not just’ anything. You’re the greatest advisor and strategist…literally ever, I would’ve died so many times if you weren’t around. Besides, Temari loves you, she’d never let you go.”

“Says the man who thinks the woman that’s loved him since preschool would drop him without a word...” Shikamaru sighed, pushing himself up from the floor. “We’re both worrying about something incredibly stupid, and we still haven’t even finished the rest of the paperwork.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Naruto groaned, rubbing his eyes and the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I’ll even be able to read right now. Everything’s kinda fuzzy.”

“I’ll read them,” Shikamaru grabbed the last of the paperwork they needed to do from Naruto’s desk and sat back down next to the blond. “If I see something you need to stamp, I’ll let you know. Just don’t pass out til we’re done.”

“No promises.” Naruto yawned, looking over Shikamaru’s shoulder despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to register the words. “...I miss my wife…and my kids…and Hinata…”

“Hinata is your wife.”

“God I love her…she gets hotter every time I see her, I don’t understand how she does it.”

“I get that, man…” The advisor nodded in understanding. He was just as exhausted as Naruto, and really only half-paying attention to whatever he was reading. “Temari’s the same way…all this work is such a drag, I just want to go home and hug her…”

“Maybe we could just save it until tomorrow?”

“It is tomorrow.”

“Fuck.”

=

While one of history’s greatest Hokage and advisor duos were babbling about their wives and struggling to get through the last bits of their paperwork, two women were standing quietly in the hallway just outside the office picking up their sleepy conversation. 

Hinata had realized that Naruto had forgotten to come home the past couple nights, but she hadn’t been too alarmed about it; a quick glance with her Byakyugan let her see where he was via his chakra, and that he’d been working hard the past few days trying to get everything all caught up for once. What did concern her, though, was the way that chakra would suddenly flicker and die down, like a candle burning through the last of its wax. Shikamaru didn’t seem to be doing that well either, so she decided to call up Temari and discovered she was having a similar issue. 

Though she wasn’t exactly the princess of the Hyuga clan anymore (that title got passed to Hanabi when she left), Hinata still had more influence than one might’ve expected. She didn’t use it very much, or rather she hadn’t really wanted to; Naruto had always been unstoppable when it came to working towards his goals, and right now his primary directive was to make sure everything in the village was running smoothly so that his family could live peacefully and want for nothing. That hardworking spirit had always been something she’d found attractive about Naruto, but at the moment it seemed like it was becoming a detriment to his health.

So Hinata called up her sister and pulled a few strings. She was able to use the last “birthday disaster” (read: the time they swamped her husband with work despite knowing it was his daughter’s birthday that week) as leverage to give the Hokage and his advisor a couple weeks off, letting a group of trusted jonin and elders pick up the slack while they were gone. The fact that they needed a group of people rather than just two showed exactly just how overworked they’d been.

Later that evening, she and Temari had come up expecting to drag their husbands away from the office. They’d stopped just before reaching the door at the sound of Naruto crying and Shikamaru comforting him, which turned into them listening to the two men’s concerns and later their affectionate babbling about their families.

The fact that Naruto worried so much about Hinata leaving…it hurt a little, but it also felt nice in a twisted kind of way. To know that he loved her so much that he cried at the mere thought of her. She smiled softly as Temari tried not to burst out laughing at the pair.

“They’re such dorks.” Temari whispered. “As if I could ever leave that crybaby of a man.”

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” Hinata whispered back.

“Almost sickeningly so. They must be insufferable at meetings with the other kages.” Despite her words, Temari couldn’t stop grinning at her drowsy husband’s words. “God and if kids get brought up, you know Gaara would join them.”

“Speaking of kids…would you mind having Boruto and Himawari over for a sleepover sometime this week?”

“Oh? Planning a date night?”

“Something like that.” Hinata teased. “He always works so hard for me and the kids…I want to reward him a little.”

Temari smirked when she saw the look in the younger girl’s eyes. “We can take them for a night, so long as you return the favor a couple days later.”

“Deal.”

[highwaytosickfics]

day 6 babey we've got this!! another FMAB fic! it's a rewrite of a fic i wrote a long time ago, and I think this one kicks that one's ass. :)

After such a terrible, violent brawl that had ended in a lot of blood on the train platform, Ed thinks that it’s unfair that the only thing that’s really bothering him is barely even a paper cut. The assailant had barely even nicked him with the knife. Through the glove, it had barely been enough to bleed. By all counts, it’s one of the most trivial injuries he’s ever walked away from a fight with. 

However, it burns, and it hasn’t stopped since the second the blade parted the flesh. Normally, he tries to deflect that sort of blow with his metal arm, but he’d been too slow to pull away. Between Ed and Al, the three guys that the police had ended up arresting were considerably more roughed up than this, and he hadn’t seen them whining about it. Maybe he’s just so used to cuts being so deep that he barely feels them that has this one stinging like a bitch. It’s so painful that he’s shaking, sweating from exertion of merely walking in this much pain. 

All he’d wanted to do was go back to the dorms and sleep, but fate had had other plans, and the kids had ended up witnessing a near hijacking of the train. They would have succeeded, too, if it weren’t for Ed and Al. He wishes that were worth anything when all he’s getting out of it is another meeting standing between himself and sleep. 

“Are you okay, Brother?” Al asks, pulling him from his thoughts. “You’re quiet.”

“Sorry, Al. I’m fine. Thinking,” he says, tugging at the collar of his shirt to let some of the sticky heat escape. Heat rises from the shirt hole like steam from a hot cup of tea. 

“Are you worried about something?”

“Just dreading seeing Mustang’s smug face,” he lies. Well, it’s not really a lie. His whole life is spent between moments of having to deal with that bastard. Still, it’s not what’s bothering him. In fact, he’s not sure why he can’t think of anything more to say. His head is pounding in time with the beating of his heart and the throbbing of his injured palm. 

They walk through the doors of HQ quietly so as not to draw attention to themselves. Normally, he doesn’t have a problem with making a scene to annoy Mustang, but right now, talking is the last thing he wants to do. The adrenaline from the fight is starting to wear off and it’s leaving him feeling strange. Dizzy, shivery, and nauseous. 

He opens the door to Mustang’s office and enters, but no one is there. 

“Do you think we should come back later?” Al asks, but Ed is already flopping down on the sofa, feet on one arm and head on the other. He shakes his head. 

“Nah, I’m sure he’ll be here.” In truth, he’d rather just lie down on the couch and shut his eyes for a moment than leave just to return when Mustang calls them and demands to now why they didn’t want to sit around and wait forever for him. 

He’s just barely starting to fall asleep when the door opens and shuts with a loud, head-achingly loud rattle. 

“You’re here,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “I’m sorry I’m late. Your report was scheduled for 17:00.” 

“But Colonel,” Al argues gently and politely, “it is 17:00.” 

“Hence, I thought I’d have at least another hour.” Ed can feel the smirk that’s lying in wait behind his calm demeanor, ready for when Ed takes the bait and starts a fight. Sometimes, he thinks that’s the only excitement he gets in a say, which is pretty goddamn sad, he’s got to admit. “Anyway, I won’t waste your time. I know you’re always running a little short.” He pauses for reaction and frowns when he doesn’t get one. “Where is your report?” 

Ed doesn’t reply. It’s like the words just enter one ear and spill out the other, not a single one landing in his consciousness. The cut is horribly painful now, so distracting that he can’t think about anything else. 

“Fullmetal?” Roy prompts irritably. When that doesn’t work, he tries his name again, but this time, his tone is confused, maybe even a little nervous. He can’t make it out enough to identify it. All he can do is prod the cut on his hand with his metal fingers, wincing at the pain it elicits. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, a rare concerned expression passing over his face. Ed shakes his head dazedly, wincing against the vertigo that the motion elicits. 

“Headache.” He expects an argument about how he has to be able to work through these things, or a reaming for whining, but neither come. 

“You seem off. How long has he been like this?” he asks, turning toward Al. 

“Only since the fight. I thought he as just tired. What’s wrong with him?” 

He can hear the fear in Al’s voice and knows that he’s the reason behind it. As much as he hates that and wishes he could reassure him, he can’t quite figure out how to do that. Instead, he keeps poking at the cut. 

“Did something happen to your hand? Are you injured?” 

Ed isn’t so sure anymore, but he shakes his head. He knows that whatever is happening, his injury isn’t severe enough to be causing it. He’s probably just exhausted. He’s been running around like a dog for the military recently and it wouldn’t surprise him if it were finally catching up to him. 

“Brother? Are you okay?”

“Let me see that,” Mustang says, his tone suddenly gentle and patient, like he’s a young child. He takes Ed’s hand and begins to examine it, noting the small amount of blood on the glove and removing it. It’s when he sees it that he gasps—the black tendrils branching from the cut like a root system of a dead tree. 

“This looks bad. When did this happen?” 

“About two hours ago,” Al provides, which is clearly not the answer he’d wanted, because he shoves his hand back toward him. 

“Damn it. I need to make a call.” 

“Colonel?” Al frets. “What’s going on?”

“Hawkeye,” Mustang calls, sticking his head out of the doorframe. “We need a medic to my office immediately. Fullmetal’s been poisoned.” 

Ed stumbles forward a few steps and vomits into the trash basin before he even has time to register what he’s heard. In an instant, Mustang is behind him, easing him to the ground when his knees begin to get wobbly and weak. 

“The medic will be here soon,” he reassures. “Just wait a few minutes.” 

“How are you feeling, Brother?” 

“Tired,” he replies, a candid complaint that is neither stoically denied or childishly exaggerated, both of which would be much more on brand for him. 

“Don’t sleep yet,” Mustang snaps. 

“I know it’s hard. Do it anyway.” 

“S’happening?” 

“Did you not hear what I just said? You were poisoned.” 

Ed nods, fear bubbling up in his chest and sticking right behind his tonsils. Or maybe that’s just stomach acid. His eyes flutter shut again, and Roy shakes his shoulders unceremoniously, 

“What did I just say? Stay awake.” Ed tries his best, but against the gravitational pull of sleep, his fiercest resistance doesn’t even stand a chance. 

[highwaytosickfics]

day 5!! let's go!! we love to see it!!

Hughes should win a medal for his valor. Despite the fact that his beautiful wife and daughter are at home waiting for him, he’s decided to take a detour before heading home after a long day of work to swing by the dorms and check on the Elric brothers. It’s been the hottest week in recent memory and Ed and Al have been running around outside all day working on various errands for Mustang. A few hours ago, Al called to let the Colonel know that Ed had gotten a bit sick from the heat and that they’d meet with him first thing tomorrow morning rather than at the end of the day as they’d planned. For once, purely because something else had come up and it was actually more convenient to free his afternoon up, he’d obliged the request, but since then, Hughes has been thinking of them. If they stay in the dorms all night, they’ll be miserable. At least if he invites them over, they’ll have somewhere more comfortable to sleep. 

When he knocks on the door of the Elrics’ dorm, he doesn’t have to wait for long before Al opens it, so eclipsed by the doorframe that Hughes has to step forward to see all of him. 

“Hello, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes,” he greets, his tone troubled and posture stiff. “What are you doing here?” 

“I was in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by and visit my good friends,” he says easily because it’s only half a lie. He’s not sure what “in the neighborhood” might mean, but this destination is in the exact opposite direction of his home. Still, he doesn’t have to let the kids know he’s gone out of his way for them. It’ll only make them feel bad. “It was a hot one today, wasn’t it?” 

“Well, I can’t really tell,” he admits, which makes him feel a little silly about having said something at all, “but Ed got really overheated. I’m still trying to cool him down now.” 

At that, he frowns. Though he’d been expecting they might need a nice home cooked meal to get their minds off the miserable weather, he’d in no way been anticipating that he could still be in sick from the heat. “Still? Haven’t you boys been inside for hours now?” 

“He’s very prone to heat sickness. His automail gets so hot, plus the metal doesn’t sweat, so he struggles to cool down.” He strains to see Edward inside the room, who is lying on his back on the floor. “Would you like to come in?” 

He’d have barged in even if he weren’t being invited. 

“Who’s at the door?” he calls in a slurred, shaky voice that sounds nothing like the Ed he’s used to. 

“Just me,” Hughes replies. When Ed sits up, the cool washcloth that had been draped over his forehead falls into his lap. Hughes almost gasps when he sees how violently red and angry his cheeks look. “Are you sunburned?” 

“M’fine,” he snaps, more bite to it than he’s used to. Sure, he’s fiery when he talks to the Colonel, but he’s never taken a harsh tone with Hughes himself, especially for a good deed. 

“You don’t look so good. Mind if I take a look?” 

“At what?” he demands, though it sounds a little more confused than angry. Hughes closes the gap between them and stoops down to Ed’s level, where he reaches out and presses a hand to his forehead. The heat he finds makes him wince. 

“You’ve been like this since you called the Colonel?” 

Though Ed doesn’t reply, Al does. “Yes, is he okay?” 

He doesn’t want to lie, not to them, but he also doesn’t want to worry Al further. He’s already worked up enough. 

“I think this might be a little more serious than a few cool washrags can cover. I think you should come to my place where we can draw a cool bath and keep an eye on him.” 

“No,” Ed bites. He doesn’t elaborate. 

“Don’t be like that, Brother. He’s trying to be nice.” Hughes isn’t about to let this go no matter what Ed says.  

“I have a car waiting downstairs. Will you come with me?” 

Ed grumbles about it, but nods. When he gets to his feet, he wavers so hard that Hughes has to steady him by the shoulders. 

“You alright?” 

Ed nods. “Sorry, just—I got a little dizzy.” 

“Let’s get you two to my place. You’ll start feeling better in no time.” 

Ed doesn’t say a word the entire drive. Even when Al and Hughes talk about him right in front of him, he doesn’t appear to listen. All he wants to do is sleep, resting his forehead against the window with his eyes shut. 

“Gracia,” he greets, nearly dropping Edward to the floor when he sees her, just barely able to both kiss her hello and keep Ed upright at the same time. “I’ve brought company.” 

“It’s lovely to see you kids,” she says. “Is something the matter?” 

“He got a little overheated. I thought it might be a good idea to pop him in a cool bath.” 

“He’s sunburned terribly,” she frets. “I’ll find something for his face. You two get him situated.

Ed is positively malleable in Hughes’ grip while he is ushered to the bathroom, throwing up little to no resistance against his hands. Hughes helps him to strip down to his undergarments and then scoots aside so Al can pick him up and put him in the tub. Though he seems pretty out of it, Hughes knows he’s one moment of lucidity away from having a jaw broken by a metal fist. 

“Easy,” he soothes as Ed tries to struggle and thrash against the relative icy chill of the water. “Just a few minutes, I promise.” 

That doesn’t calm him at all, but he does begin to lose steam, and after a few minutes, he’s lost the strength to do much of anything but soak and complain. It hurts him to have to force him to endure this because it’s clearly tortuously uncomfortable and he’s not in his right mind to begin with. Still, he has to stay strong even when he begs to be released and slips between varying stages of consciousness. 

After a few minutes, his gaze becomes clearer, more focused, and he perks up a bit, looking confused and upset.

“Why am I soaking wet in my clothes? What the hell; is this your bathroom, Hughes? What’s going on?” 

“You’re back with us?” 

“I didn’t go anywhere.” 

“Brother,” Al sighs in relief. “You got really overheated. We’re at the Hughes’ home so that they could help us cool you down.” Ed does have the wherewithal to look embarrassed. 

“I’d’ve been fine on my own.” 

“No one says you wouldn’t,” he replies sunnily, though he does have his doubts. “I just thought you’d be more comfortable here.” 

He braces himself for a long and volatile argument, but instead, Ed shows just how ill he really is by crossing his arms over his chest and muttering. 

“Can I get out?” 

“In a few minutes. Are you hungry? Gracia made dinner.” 

Ed hesitates, but nods. “A little.” 

Hughes grins. “Great! We’ll get you fed once you cool down a little more. I’ll have her set aside a bowl for you.”

“I don’t need help, you know.” 

“I know.” 

He can’t bring himself to look anyone in the eye when he rolls his eyes and says, “but thanks.” Hughes smiles. It takes a lot to get that out of someone as prickly as Ed, and he’s elated to have earned it. 

“Any time, kids,” he says, and he means it.

[highwaytosickfics]

whumptober day 4 - hallucinations

another FMAB short fic! enjoy!

Roy can always tell when Fullmetal arrives at HQ. Usually, it’s because he kicks in his door, too impatient to knock and wait for him to open up, so he braces himself for a loud entrance that doesn’t come. When he hears the commotion outside his office, he knows immediately who’s responsible. It’s only when it doesn’t die down that he sighs and stands from his desk, rolling his neck from side to side to alleviate the stiffness he’d acquired from staring at paperwork for so long, and opens his office door to investigate.

What he finds is not what he expects. Ed is sitting on the floor with Riza and Havoc kneeling beside him, their expressions worried and serious. 

“Edward, you need to calm down,” he hears Hawkeye say as soothingly as she can. “Scar is dead. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.” 

“Where’s Al?” he demands in a shaking, terrified voice Roy has never heard from him before. 

“The dorms, safe and sound. He’s waiting for you.” 

“I can’t—I have to find him.” 

‘What’s going on here?” Mustang asks when he’s close enough not to have to shout. 

“We don’t know,” Havoc admits. “He came in here raving about Scar taking his brother.” Roy frowns. 

“That’s impossible.” 

“Yeah, that’s what we’re trying to tell him, but we can’t get him to calm down.” Breda approaches with a glass of water in his hands. 

“Here, drink. Take a breath. You’re okay and so is your brother.” 

“I saw him,” Ed insists. “He took him.” 

“Something is wrong,” Havoc says, “but we can’t get anything out of him besides this.” 

At that moment, Roy’s office phone rings. Perfect timing, he thinks. He really doesn’t want to have to deal with the situation out there. 

“This is Colonel Mustang,” he greets. 

“Colonel.” It’s Alphonse’s voice on the line. “I’m so glad you picked up.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“I was wondering if you’ve seen Ed,” he says, anxiety thick in his tone. “He left this morning to turn in his report and he’s not back yet.” 

Edward left the dorms this morning? What the hell has he been doing for so many hours? 

“He’s here,” and he feels bad to bait and switch when Al lets out a relieved sigh, “but something’s not right. I think you should come down here.” 

“Is he okay?” 

He’s used to lying to the kids. It comes so naturally to him. If he doesn’t say a word, then he doesn’t have to deal with the emotional fallout of delivering bad news. Still, they have to get Ed out of here some way or another, and maybe if they bring Al here, he’ll settle down enough to tell them what he’s ranting about.

“He’s a bit worked up. We’re trying to figure out what happened.” 

“Well, he wasn’t feeling well this morning. He told me he’s fine, but he seemed really sick. I can’t tell if he has a fever.” Roy is a little surprised by that. Ed takes every opportunity he can get to put off turning in reports, but the one time he has a valid excuse, he doesn’t use it? “I’m on my way to headquarters now.”

“We’ll look him over in the meantime. If he’s ill, we’ll call a medic. Thank you for your help.”

Once they hang up the phone, Roy returns to the circle. It appears as though Ed hasn’t calmed down at all, despite their best efforts.

“We think maybe he hit his head,” Breda says. “He says it hurts.” 

“I don’t think so,” Roy replies. He stoops down to Ed’s level, something he normally wouldn’t do, but this circumstance is different and he doesn’t want to frighten him into running away and making this worse. Now that he’s looking for it, he notices that Ed looks terrible; pale and flushed and shivering. “Fullmetal, do you know where you are?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he insists, slurring his words slightly. “We’ve gotta find Al.” 

“He’s on his way here right now. Do you understand?” 

His face implies that he doesn’t. Reluctantly and at the risk of Ed breaking his wrist, he reaches out to touch his forehead. He’s no doctor, but he knows a high fever when he feels one. 

“He’s roasting,” he announces. “We need to call a medic and cool him down.” 

Hawkeye immediately takes the phone in his office and calls, which Roy tries not to be annoyed about. He’d wanted to do that—it meant that he wouldn’t have to be here dealing with a very sick and delirious teenager. 

“Breda, Havoc; wet some hand towels and bring them here. Hurry.” 

“Why isn’t anyone doing anything?” Ed demands, his eyes either glassy from fever or dangerously close to tears, or perhaps both. “Al is—” 

“He’s on his way here,” Roy replies as gently as he can. He’s never been good with this sort of thing, with comforting people, and he definitely doesn’t know what to say now. “Just wait a few minutes. You’re not doing yourself any favors by staying so worked up.” 

For the first time since he’s gotten here, Ed stops squirming enough that Riza is able to slacken her grip. 

“He’s really coming?” 

“I promise.” He seems to accept that, now, at least for the moment. Maybe he’s just worn himself out. He relaxes into Hawkeye’s shoulder, but starts fighting once more when the cool rags are placed over his forehead and flesh limbs. This time, it’s got nothing to do with a hallucination, but rather, discomfort. He’s shivering against the temperature difference, and that’s how Al finds him when he throws open the door to HQ and rushes toward him. This time, there’s no mistaking the tears in Ed’s eyes. 

“Brother,” Al greets, fear thick in his tone as he kneels beside him. “Colonel, what’s wrong with him?” 

“He’s running a fever. He was rather upset that you’d been taken.”

“I knew I should have come with him this morning, but he said he wouldn’t be long.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hawkeye comforts. 

“It might be that wound he suffered on your last mission, but he won’t let us check to see whether it’s infected. We’ve sent for an ambulance, so it shouldn’t be long.” 

Al nods. “Thank you,” he says, allowing Ed to hold his hands like he’s going to vanish at any moment. “Please jut relax. You’re making your fever worse.” 

With A there, he’s finally able to shut his eyes and lie back as they try their best to cool him down until the ambulance arrives. 

[highwaytosickfics]

day 3, still going strong! :)

“Alright, military pig,” the guard says, “you’re free to go.” Ed’s heart races as he fiddles with and finally unlocks the lock holding the cell shut. 

“What?” he asks confusedly. He’s relieved, of course, but doesn’t totally understand what’s happening. 24 hours ago, they’d been ready to execute him, and now he’s being set free? 

“Seems someone paid your bail. You lucked out.” 

“Who?” 

Had Al managed to scrounge up the money somehow? It doesn’t make sense that he’d have been able to gather that much, especially not here. It’s not as though anyone would be sympathetic enough to donate anything at all, even if he explained the situation. 

He follows the guard past the other cells filled with grown men who make threats and taunts that he tries to block out. When he opens the door leading back to the office window, he’s shocked to see Colonel Mustang standing there waiting impatiently. 

“Colonel?” he asks incredulously. “What are you doing here?”

“Your brother called me.” His icy tone implies that he’s in a lot of trouble, but he can’t think about that now. All that matters is that he’s not going to die in a jail cell. He watches as Mustang takes in his bruised jaw and black eye with practiced indifference. He follows him to the car without a word, where Al is standing outside. 

“Brother!” he greets, unable to resist scooping him up into a very painful hug. “Did they hurt you? Are you okay?”

“Easy, easy,” he says. He’s still bruised from the “lesson” that the officer had tried to beat into him. “I’m fine. Stop worrying.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so glad you’re okay.” That’s playing it fast and loose with the word “okay,” but he doesn’t argue. Even if he wanted to, he doesn’t have the energy.

“Let’s just get out of here.” He expects to relax as soon as they pass the town’s entry sign and is a little confused when his jaw and fists remain clenched. 

“You really got yourself into trouble this time,” Mustang says. Ed can’t even think straight to remember the series of events that had led to this. It had happened so fast. Trying to write this report is going to be a nightmare. “Care to explain to me what stunt exactly you pulled that landed you in jail?” 

“Nothing,” he snaps. “Or I don’t—I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know.” Mustang’s tone is condescending, mocking, but he doesn’t care about that now. 

“It’s true,” Al defends. “One minute we were in the library archives, and the next, we were attacked by the police.” 

“They said you resisted arrest.” 

“Of course I did! He was—” beating the shit out of me, he wants to say, but that’s embarrassing to admit. “We didn’t know what was happening.” 

Roy rolls his eyes. “In case you can’t tell, I’m not happy with you.” 

“I know.” 

“There’s going to be punitive action taken for this. You’re a reflection of me, and you really screwed up this time. Why is it always you who’s getting into trouble? Why was I not surprised to get that phone call?” 

“I—can we stop talking about it?” he asks in a small voice. It’s earnest and fearful enough that it gives Mustang pause. Thinking about it makes Ed’s heart race and his chest tight. “I’ll write it down in my report. I just—don’t want to talk about it right now.” He doesn’t expect anything short of more scolding, but that’s not what happens. Instead, he sighs. 

“Fine. We’ll discuss it another time.” After a beat in which he studies Ed’s shaking hands and pale face, he speaks in a gentler tone. “Alphonse told me you’ve been held for a few days. Did they feed you?” 

“Did they… what?” 

“Food, Fullmetal. Did they give you any?” 

“Um, a little. A few bread rolls, but I didn’t eat them. They were hard, and I wasn’t hungry, anyway.” 

“What about water?” 

“None.” 

With that, Roy’s expression softens. “Pull in and park up here,” he says to the driver, who complies without complaint. 

“Why are we stopping?” he demands in a voice that trembles frustratingly. All he wants to do is get back home. Maybe they’ve left that horrible little town, but they’re not in the clear yet. Not until they arrive back at HQ, in Ed’s eyes. 

“You need to eat and drink something.” Well, as much as he hates to admit that Mustang is right, his growling stomach gives him away. “Come on. It looks like there’s a diner over there. Let’s get you something to eat.” 

“Aren’t I in trouble?” he asks. Mustang frowns .

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean you deserve to starve.”

Once they’re seated at a booth, he can’t bring himself to look at the menu. He’s too suspicious. Mustang is never nice, especially when Ed’s in trouble for something. 

“Order whatever you’d like. It’s on me.” 

“Seriously?” he asks. “Why are you doing this?” 

“Don’t sound so suspicious. We’re here because you’re clearly hungry.” And that’s it. Someone is taking care of his needs just because he has them, plain and simple and rare as can be. When the waitress approaches their table, Roy orders a black coffee, while Ed asks for a bowl of stew. Something warm and comforting might help ease his mind a little. He sips the water in front of him. 

“How badly are you hurt?” Mustang asks. Despite his initial instinct to lie to spare his brother’s worry, Al was there when it happened. He’d watched the officer hit and kick him and if he’s not honest, Al will fret even more. 

“Just some bruises. I don’t think anything is broken. I’m just sore.” 

“They shouldn’t have treated you with such force. It doesn’t matter what minor infraction you’d committed. Violence against you was inappropriate. So was starving you and withholding water. I’m going to have to send someone to sort that out.” 

“Don’t,” Ed warns. “They’re not—if you send someone, they’ll just end up getting hurt. Or worse.”

“Then I’ll send a group.” Ed just stares in disbelief. “They shouldn’t get away with this, Fullmetal. You know that as well as I do.” Ed glares. Mustang exclusively pisses him off, so what’s with this sudden kindness?

“Why are you acting like you care?”

“Because you were punished severely and unjustly. That’s not acceptable.” 

The stew arrives and it takes all his willpower not to eat it so fast that it doesn’t stay down. He’s ravenous. Mustang watches as he eats, which makes him feel a little self-conscious. 

“We should get going,” he says when Ed finishes the last bite of his second bowl of stew. He could probably eat another, but the appeal of leaving is too strong. Mustang pays the bill while Ed and Al head out to the car, which is still waiting outside. Ed sits in the back seat and presses his cheek to the window and shuts his eyes. He’s barely slept at all in the three days he was held captive, and he’s exhausted. 

Mustang opens the door and sits as the driver pulls away from the diner and back onto the road. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Al asks, so he puts on his best smile. 

“A little tired. Nothing to worry about.” That’s not even a lie. It’s taking all his will power not to fall asleep just sitting here. 

“You should get some rest.” While he expects Mustang to argue, he doesn’t.

“Your brother is right,” Mustang agrees. “You look like you could use some sleep.” 

“You’re not gonna lecture me?”

“There will be plenty of time for that later. Right now, you need to recover. I’m giving you a few days of leave, effective immediately. You’re no longer on duty.”

Ed doesn’t thank him. He doesn’t praise him for his kindness. All he does is shut his eyes, leaning against Al for support. Mustang won’t say a word about it, not to anyone.