[Maes feels the hand on his arm and feels relieved. Posturing aside, he does like having someone here as opposed to coughing his head off alone in his room. With more and more people succumbing to worse symptoms, visitors were starting to become scarce. Everyone was really working themselves too hard, if they weren't sick already.]

Hawkeye is running herself ragged and Roy got sick around the same time as I did. We were recently joined by some more friends...I haven't seen Edward much and Winry is either sick or working herself ragged as well trying to help.

[He feels guilty for not knowing more definitively about their status, but considering his own illness it wouldn't matter much. They're passing the kitchens now when Maes stops, catching a big whiff of apple pie. He doesn't think much of that, only thinking someone is trying to bake more comfort food for the sick masses.

But then he hears a faint, familiar, and warm laugh echo out into the hall. No, sweetie. You can't lick the spoon.

Maes braces himself against the wall again. He's now not sure if he feels ill because of this plague or because of who he hears. He distantly remembers that Keith is there too, which helps keep him a bit more grounded.]

Keith. [His voice has a different tone, his voice tight and worried.] Keith, do you smell that?

[He decides not to ask about the voice. But surely he wouldn't look so upset over just a smell, right?]