"Unless, of course, you have any objections?"
Instead of answering Frieda's question, Isaac merely gaped at the rouge alchemist, mouth and mind attempting to form words that simply refused to come. An amalgamation of shock, disbelief, and sweet, sweet morphine continued to cloud his mind, effectively derailing any possible trains of thought the bed-bound solider might have come up with. Finally, with little other choice, Isaac's chaotic and ruined thoughts settled on a choice: Laughter.
It started as a slight snicker, a soft noise that could barely be heard even by the room's other occupants. It grew into a series of chuckles that wafted through the air, a slight tremble slowly shaking through the alchemist's shoulders. Finally, Isaac burst out laughing, loud guffaws that echoed through the room and out into the hallway beyond. Tears streaming down his cheeks, Isaac roared with laughter until he was unable to breathe.
Then, he suddenly stopped.
"Are you people serious?" There was no hint of mirth or merriment in Isaac's eyes, as he gazed between Rai and Frieda. "You worm your way into my life, tear everything I know apart, and then expect me to help you, just like that? Are you mad, or just stupid?"
Sighing, Isaac forced back the sheets and blanket that shrouded his body, sitting upright and setting his feet against the ground, the contact between his bare feet and the cool floor sending a shiver up his spine. Grasping his IV pole to steady his footing, he forced himself up, the sudden motion sending a burst of dizziness through his head, his legs wobbling beneath him.
However, Isaac refused to fall. Steeling himself, he remained upright, breathing heavily as the vertigo faded from his system. A clear head on his shoulders, the alchemist turned around, staring at his two companions with a mix of anger and desperation. "I... I need to make a phone call. Please, just give me five minutes of peace; is that really too much to ask?"
From Rai, there was no answer; he merely gazed at Isaac with a cautious eye, as though judging whether or not the alchemist might be thinking of selling him out to the military. That, or he was deciding if he would be willing to sacrifice his noodles if Isaac passed out again. Maybe both.
Frieda, though no more vocal, at least gave a visual reaction, her gaze shifting from analytic to worried, then back again. Considering his frazzled mental state, there was no sure way to predict Isaac's intentions. The safe course of action would be to simply restrain him, ensuring that he couldn't harm them, even unintentionally. On the other hand, allowing the soldier a bit of trust might pay off in the long run. There was no way he'd help them against his will, and this small show of faith would likely lay the groundwork for mutual trust and reliance. Finally, she offered Isaac a nod, stepping out of the way and allowing him access to the door.
"Thank you." Though there was still anger in his voice, there was also a sizable portion of courtesy. Wheeling his IV pole along with him, Isaac slowly paced out into the corridor, leaving his companions behind.
Waving his way past a pair of overly zealous nurses, the alchemist navigated his way to a bank of telephones lining a wall. Taking a moment to steady his feet and collect his thoughts, he reached out, picked up the phone, and dialed the familiar number.
Riiiiiiing
He was alone, confused, and honestly a little scared. The world that he used to feel so safe and comfortable in had been torn away, replaced by a realm of confusion and uncertainty.
Riiiiiiing
Isaac was smart enough to realize that he needed guidance, from a source far wiser and more experienced than himself. He needed help, advice, anything he could get that might help give him some sense of direction, some hint of what he needed to do.
Riiiiiiing
At the end of the day, there was only one man he felt he could turn to.
Riiii-"Hello?"
"Hey Dad. How's it going?"
Instead of answering Frieda's question, Isaac merely gaped at the rouge alchemist, mouth and mind attempting to form words that simply refused to come. An amalgamation of shock, disbelief, and sweet, sweet morphine continued to cloud his mind, effectively derailing any possible trains of thought the bed-bound solider might have come up with. Finally, with little other choice, Isaac's chaotic and ruined thoughts settled on a choice: Laughter.
It started as a slight snicker, a soft noise that could barely be heard even by the room's other occupants. It grew into a series of chuckles that wafted through the air, a slight tremble slowly shaking through the alchemist's shoulders. Finally, Isaac burst out laughing, loud guffaws that echoed through the room and out into the hallway beyond. Tears streaming down his cheeks, Isaac roared with laughter until he was unable to breathe.
Then, he suddenly stopped.
"Are you people serious?" There was no hint of mirth or merriment in Isaac's eyes, as he gazed between Rai and Frieda. "You worm your way into my life, tear everything I know apart, and then expect me to help you, just like that? Are you mad, or just stupid?"
Sighing, Isaac forced back the sheets and blanket that shrouded his body, sitting upright and setting his feet against the ground, the contact between his bare feet and the cool floor sending a shiver up his spine. Grasping his IV pole to steady his footing, he forced himself up, the sudden motion sending a burst of dizziness through his head, his legs wobbling beneath him.
However, Isaac refused to fall. Steeling himself, he remained upright, breathing heavily as the vertigo faded from his system. A clear head on his shoulders, the alchemist turned around, staring at his two companions with a mix of anger and desperation. "I... I need to make a phone call. Please, just give me five minutes of peace; is that really too much to ask?"
From Rai, there was no answer; he merely gazed at Isaac with a cautious eye, as though judging whether or not the alchemist might be thinking of selling him out to the military. That, or he was deciding if he would be willing to sacrifice his noodles if Isaac passed out again. Maybe both.
Frieda, though no more vocal, at least gave a visual reaction, her gaze shifting from analytic to worried, then back again. Considering his frazzled mental state, there was no sure way to predict Isaac's intentions. The safe course of action would be to simply restrain him, ensuring that he couldn't harm them, even unintentionally. On the other hand, allowing the soldier a bit of trust might pay off in the long run. There was no way he'd help them against his will, and this small show of faith would likely lay the groundwork for mutual trust and reliance. Finally, she offered Isaac a nod, stepping out of the way and allowing him access to the door.
"Thank you." Though there was still anger in his voice, there was also a sizable portion of courtesy. Wheeling his IV pole along with him, Isaac slowly paced out into the corridor, leaving his companions behind.
Waving his way past a pair of overly zealous nurses, the alchemist navigated his way to a bank of telephones lining a wall. Taking a moment to steady his feet and collect his thoughts, he reached out, picked up the phone, and dialed the familiar number.
Riiiiiiing
He was alone, confused, and honestly a little scared. The world that he used to feel so safe and comfortable in had been torn away, replaced by a realm of confusion and uncertainty.
Riiiiiiing
Isaac was smart enough to realize that he needed guidance, from a source far wiser and more experienced than himself. He needed help, advice, anything he could get that might help give him some sense of direction, some hint of what he needed to do.
Riiiiiiing
At the end of the day, there was only one man he felt he could turn to.
Riiii-"Hello?"
"Hey Dad. How's it going?"