Written for neko-erin in my request a drabble post in my journal.
I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist
Edward didn't particularly hate being sick. He knew it was a necessary process for the human body.
He hated feeling helpless though. Especially in an Ishbal camp, with Scar caring for him.
Scar walked into Edward's tent, looking as grumpy as usual.
"I'm only doing this because Alphonse managed to convince Leo and Rick to beg with him," Scar felt inclined to remind Edward for the fiftieth time.
"And I'm only letting you do this because I can't walk straight," Edward snapped, hating how stuffed up he sounded.
"You're having chicken soup for supper," Scar said, trying to remember what Alphonse had warned him about.
"Chicken?" Edward said slowly, sounding a little disgusted. "What are you having?"
"I think we're having stew," Scar said.
Looking at Edward's face, he suddenly remembered Alphonse's warning.
"Why do I have to have chicken soup while you get stew? I hate chicken! I want stew!"
Edward stood up angrily, and Scar caught him when he fell forward.
"There's milk in stew. Sick people shouldn't have milk. Chicken soup is good when you're sick."
Edward had calmed down a great deal, and Scar laid him back on the bed and replaced the wet cloth on his forehead.
As he went to leave the room, Edward grabbed his wrist, his hand feeling cold and sweaty despite the fact that his forehead was extremely hot.
"Mother," he coughed. "Mother told me the same thing."
Scar didn't try to leave again until Edward was asleep.
Con Crit more than welcome, flames will be mocked.
