Author's Note: I don't know when I'll update this, I've got chapters 2+3 written in a book, waiting to be typed up. But, with college almost finished, I should be able to update quickly, fingers crossed.
I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.
The large double doors burst open with a bang, and Winry Rockbell rushed into the white, sterile looking waiting room. Her hair was unkempt from rushing to her destination and a bag of mechanical tools had been haphazardly slung over one shoulder. Her bright blue eyes, strained from worry and lack of sleep, darted over the many strangers until she saw who she was looking for.
"Al!" she called out, making her way to the armoured suit that contained the soul of one of her best friends, Alphonse Elric.
"Winry, thanks for getting here so quickly," Al greeted her, although his tone didn't hide that he wished that they were meeting under better circumstances.
"After you called, I couldn't get here soon enough. What's going on?" Winry asked.
Alphonse paused, and looked to the people around him. There was Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was beside him, waiting for her.
"You can hear the story on the way," Mustang announced.
Winry looked between the trio, expecting someone, especially Al, to elaborate. She waited for a minute before reluctantly nodding her head. She could tell when she had to play a game by someone else's rules.
With that, Mustang, Hawkeye and Alphonse began making their way towards the doors that Winry had just walked through. She stood still and watched them go, not understanding why they were leaving the hospital.
"Ed's not in the hospital; he's in a separate ward in another building," Al explained as soon as he noticed Winry's confused expression.
Winry didn't comment, though her expression said more than she ever could with words. All this secrecy was really beginning to irritate her, and also, not knowing what was going on was frightening her. A thousand scenarios were obviously running through her head.
Unable to give her a comforting smile, Al stretched out his hand towards her, hoping that the gesture would be well received. He was thankful when she joined his side a moment later.
When they were outside, Mustang led them, while Hawkeye brought up the rear. They were making their way towards what looked like an abandoned building that might once have been part of the hospital. However, closer inspection would show that it wasn't as old as Winry had first thought, maybe not even half a decade. There were slight distortions in a lower section of the building that caught Winry's eyes, and she recognised their cause.
The distortions could only have been caused by alchemy.
"What's going on, Al?" Winry pleaded, suddenly feeling much more insecure about the situation.
"Well... It all started about a week ago," Al began.
"The state had received information about a rogue alchemist hiding out in the Central area," Hawkeye reported from behind them. "We asked Edward for his help before he left his latest lead on the Philosopher's Stone."
"As it would only be for one night night's worth of raids, Brother agreed," Al continued. "It was really simple, and we managed to investigate most of the locations that night."
"So, what happened?" Winry inquired.
"On the last house we checked, we found the alchemist," Mustang summed up. "Things didn't go quite according to plan..."
7 days ago...
"Alright, Al. Last raid tonight, and then we're on the train first thing in the morning," Ed smiled, eagerly anticipating his bed.
"Aren't you going to be tired tomorrow, Brother?" Al asked, more than aware of how short his brother's temper was he hadn't had enough sleep.
"I'll sleep on the train," Ed answered, shrugging his shoulders.
Al didn't comment. He'd had enough of intruding people's homes tonight, and was looking forwards to getting back to the room that he and Ed shared. Although he would have nothing to do until dawn, he could always pretend that he was asleep, or quietly reread some of his brother's alchemy books.
Ed looked over to Mustang, who had joined them for this house, along with Hawkeye. The colonel nodded and they all advanced. No sooner had they set foot on the premise when traps were set off at their feet.
Ed easily managed to either dodge, ride out or transmutate the traps and was soon at the door. Al, Mustang and Hawkeye quickly joined him respectively.
"Guess we can safely say 'this is the place'," Ed quipped to Mustang.
Mustang nodded reverently. Then, his sights set firmly on the door; he gave it an almighty kick. The door almost flew off its hinges as it opened to reveal an empty corridor.
"Well, what do you know? No one's here to see us in after the warm welcome," Edward remarked sarcastically.
"Alright, Fullmetal, you take the ground floor. Lieutenant Hawkeye and I will search upstairs, Mustang ordered.
"Right," Ed nodded. "Come on, Al."
As Mustang and Hawkeye disappeared upstairs, Edward and Alphonse began cautiously opening doors as they made their way down the corridor. After empty room after empty room, both brothers could feel the rising tension and apprehension that each next door would bring. They had both completely forgotten the possibility that the alchemist might be upstairs, where Mustang and Hawkeye were.
Finally, they reached the last door.
Opening the set of double doors revealed rows of bookshelves. The last room was a library. As Edward entered the room, he caught some of the titles. All the books were on alchemy. He had stepped into a library completely devoted to alchemy.
It was then that he noticed a strange glow coming from his right. Turning his head slightly, he saw that the light was radiating from the bookcase beside him. Although warning alarms rang through his mind, and he knew that he had to run, to vacate that spot immediately, all he could do was stare with morbid fascination. He couldn't even blink.
"Brother!" Al yelled in alarm.
Ed blinked and the spell was broken. He turned his head slightly to look at his brother, knowing that it was too late for him to run.
Then the bookcase exploded. It wasn't the kind of explosion that went bang and obliterated everything in a 10m radius. Instead, the bookcase went poof and vaporised, turning into a cloud of fine dust. The cloud engulfed Edward completely.
From within the dust cloud, Al could hear his brother coughing and cursing. The cloud quickly dissipated to show a disgruntled Edward, who was covered in a layer of dust. He was waving his arms around to further banish the unwanted addition to the air from around him.
Ed turned to glare at his brother, daring him to laugh. However, the chuckling came from deeper within the library, from the alchemist they'd come to catch.
After taking a deep breath to calm himself, Edward advanced further into the library to confront the alchemist. Every time he moved, the dust would lift off his clothes, skin and hair, making him force back more coughing. The feeling of all the dust made him want to shake, jerk around and spend the rest of the night under a shower. He didn't want to think about what the dust was doing to the joints in his automail, and wasn't looking forward to the prospect of cleaning it.
I'm probably gonna have to take it apart to get it all out, he thought grimly.
Finally, he entered the main sitting area which held a variety of chairs, tables and desks. His attention was focused on one particular chair. It was a cushy armchair that looked far too squishy for comfort. In that chair was a man.
He was not a rather memorable man; he looked like anyone else that might be expected to be on the street, doing menial tasks like shopping for dinner or for a special gift for his wife or child. He was one of those familiar strangers. But, then again, most alchemists were just ordinary looking people, only they could perform alchemy.
The man grinned slyly at Edward and Alphonse as they emerged from the rows of bookcases. He looked far from worried by the two intruders in his house. Indeed, he was looking quite smug with Edward's appearance.
"Welcome to my humble abode," the man greeted. "How do you like it?"
"There are other ways to tell people to stay out," Ed retorted. "And what was that bookcase all about?! Is that your way of saying I need a shower?!"
The man's grin grew wider at Edward's remarks. The look of satisfaction was obvious on his face.
"Freeze! Don't move," a fierce order came from above the brother's heads.
It was Lieutenant Hawkeye. She had her gun trained on the man in the armchair. She looked more than slightly ruffled and more than slightly pissed off. Judging by her less than immaculate uniform, which bore some cuts and a couple of burn marks, she'd also faced one of this alchemist's traps.
Colonel Mustang, who was standing beside her, was also wearing a now less-than-perfect attire. He looked sternly at the alchemist.
"Vel Hanigh," Mustang stated. "You are under arrest for the illegal and improper use of alchemy."
During this distraction, Ed and Al had moved closer to the alchemist while ensuring that Hawkeye still had a clear shot. Ed had also transmuted his automail wrist guard into a blade and was waiting for someone to give him a reason to attack or fall back. With the dust trickling down his back and making it almost impossible for him to remain still, he wanted this confrontation to end quickly.
The five of them remained motionless for several minutes; all were waiting for someone else to move and none were willing to be the one to set off a fight.
Finally, the alchemist slowly raised his hands in defeat.
Present day...
"That doesn't sound like it was that hard," Winry noted.
"His arrest wasn't overly difficult, no," Hawkeye admitted. "However, problems arose after he was apprehended."
"How?" Winry frowned.
"Fullmetal," Mustang explained. "He developed a cough shortly after we left the building. It was from breathing in all that dust."
"He said it wasn't serious, and that it would clear up by in a day or two," Hawkeye continued.
"But... it didn't," Al summed up. "Brother's cough only got worse in the morning."
6 days ago...
Ed gasped before doubling over to continue the coughing fit, which he'd had for more than five minutes. He wasn't sure who's arm he was holding onto, and wasn't eager to find out. His vision was blurred from the tears that his coughing had brought, but he could still see the carpet that was on Colonel Mustang's office floor. Every cough felt like it was gouging out more from his already raw throat.
I have to breathe... I can't pass out...
Slowly the convulsions subsided and his breathing got easier. He wiped his eyes with his left sleeve; and, once he could see relatively well, he straightened up. Looking to his right, he saw a metal arm, which he instinctively knew to belong to his brother.
A gloved hand appeared, holding a glass of water. It was Lieutenant Hawkeye. While her face was fairly indifferent, her eyes betrayed how worried she was of his coughing. Her eyes seemed to be saying: You can't stand for ten minutes before coughing. You're not alright, despite what you say.
In the office around them, Falman, Havoc, Fuery, and Brosh were completing their assignments, filling out paperwork and filing their reports. Every single one of them was trying to surreptitiously watch what Edward was doing, and each of them failing miserably. All had a stern face which was obviously a front, which they had yet to perfect, in order to hide their own concern for the young State Alchemist.
Ignoring their half-hidden glances, Ed took the glass wordlessly and drank. He felt relief flood through him as the cool liquid ran down his throat, easing the irritation that was threatening to make him cough again. As the heat from his raw throat receded, he began to feel semi-normal.
"You should see a doctor about that, Fullmetal," Mustang commented nonchalantly from his desk.
"I'm fine," Ed retorted, ignoring the look Hawkeye was giving him. "The dust's just a bit finer than I thought it was."
"You had to grab your brother's arm so you could stay on your feet," Mustang noted, raising his gaze from his paperwork.
"I told you: I'm fine," Ed insisted.
"Then a trip to the infirmary shouldn't be a problem," Mustang countered.
Edward didn't reply. He returned the glass to Lieutenant Hawkeye and turned for the door.
"Brother, where are you going?" Al queried in alarm. "Brother?!"
Ed had only walked four paces and could feel his body baulking as another coughing fit threatened to rear its ugly head. He held his breath, refusing to give air to fan these particular flames. However, his head soon began to swim and his vision blurred. As he felt his balance falter, his legs collapsed and he felt his human knee hit the floor. He managed to throw his hands out for him to catch himself, but it was too late. The jolt had already done the damage.
Edward slowly and carefully lowered himself down so that he was on the floor with his legs under him and his automail arm resting on the ground, just above his head. His left arm was tucked close to his body as he covered his mouth with his left hand. He didn't bother moving as the coughing racked his body.
"Fullmetal!""Brother!" Hawkeye and Alphonse yelled at the same time.
All pretences of indifference promptly left everyone in the room. As Hawkeye and Alphonse rushed to Edward, neither of them was sure of what they could do to help.
"Fuery, tell the infirmary they have a patient coming in," Mustang ordered, rising from his desk.
"Yes sir!" the young officer snapped to attention before rushing to the door.
"Brother!" Al cried in fear before turning to Mustang.
The colonel realised that something was definitely wrong and joined Al on Edward's left side. Once he knelt down to better observe the older brother, he stiffened in shock, his eyes wide with fear. He looked up to Fuery, who had frozen fearfully when Al had spoken.
"Hurry Fuery!" Mustang barked before looking back down. He could hear Fuery's frantic footsteps echoing down the hall as he ran. "Fullmetal, you have to stop coughing," he hissed urgently in the alchemist's ear.
However, Edward didn't stop. His whole body was shaking from the strain, his hands clenched in agony. And, every time the coughing paused, a strange gargling sound came from Edward as he breathed in.
"Dammit, Edward!" Mustang snapped angrily. "I said stop coughing!"
Mustang brought his hand down onto Edward's back slightly heavier than he had intended to. Regardless, it seemed to have done the trick.
Edward coughed extensively for the next few seconds before stopping. Although the coughing had stopped, Edward didn't move. His small frame was still trembling violently, though not to the extent that it had been.
Mustang caught Hawkeye's eye and nodded to her. The two of them carefully and strategically placed one hand on Edward's back and the other grasped his shoulders. Gently and persistently, they pulled him up until he was sitting on his heels. Upon sight of his face, both faltered and Hawkeye gasped in shock.
Edward was unhealthily pallid and his skin looked clammy. His eyes were dull, almost lifeless, moist from tears, and screaming of pain to anyone who cared to look at him. But, worst of all, there was a trail of a liquid that ran from his mouth down to his chin.
Hawkeye risked a glance down to Edward's left hand, and she felt her stomach clench sickeningly. There, in stark contrast to his white glove, was a mark that was bright and as clear as day. The mark, also on Edward's face, was bright red blood.
Lieutenant Hawkeye swallowed calmly and returned her attention to Edward's face. He was fighting for awareness above the pain and his eyes were slowly regaining their life.
"Come on, Edward," she murmured gently to him. "Let's get you to the infirmary."