11/1/14 A/N: Having been struck with some sort of creeping crud of a head cold myself, I've had all too much inspiration to work on this story.

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Chapter 2: Role Reversal

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Alphonse ate his oatmeal in silence. The only one at the kitchen table, he also ate alone. It frustrated him to no end that he could not help as Winry lay ill upstairs. All the alchemical knowledge he maintained in his brain and none of it a bit of use. He felt worthless. The slow step-clank of Brother's real and automail feet coming down the wooden stairs temporarily broke the boy from his malaise.

"Brother?" Like he needed to ask who it was.

"Hey." Ed's voice sounded defeated as he slowly drug himself to the kitchen and over to the stove.

"I made a new pot of coffee. I'm getting pretty good at it." Al wasn't proud at all, he'd rather not had to learn how to make the bitter drink he detested, but it fueled his brother and Pinako as they cared for Winry so he quickly learned to make it for them. Right now, it was the only thing he could do to help.

"Thanks." Ed truly appreciated the gesture. He knew Alphonse raged inside, wanting to do more. "You know, this is the only thing that's going to keep me awake today." He offered his brother a meek smile as he poured a mug of the black drink, then settled himself down in the chair across from his sibling.

"Yeah." Al cast his eyes down on his cooling cereal. "Any improvement?"

Edward's face told the tale but he had to be strong for Alphonse. "No." Ed took a quick sip of the steaming beverage, hoping the raised mug would hide his face from his brother. He felt like breaking down. "She's no longer throwing up but keeps running this fever, the aspirin doesn't seem to work anymore...and the coughing is worse." Ed set the mug down.

"Is there another drug we can give her? If we can get the raw materials, I can use alchemy to put it together." Al's voice suddenly became excited at the prospect of doing more to help his family than making coffee.

"Pinako started an intravenous drip last night, she's giving her a different medicine and fluids." He rest his head in his hands with his elbows on the table. "...brought it down to thirty-eight centigrade." Ed slowly brought his head and elbows down until they both rested on the table like a school child in time out.

Bark!

Den's loud bellow shook the brothers from their sadness. She meandered into the kitchen and sat her rump down with a thump right next to her food bowl.

"Den!" Al stood from the table and regarded the black dog. "I bet you're hungry." The boy walked to the cupboard opening the door to reveal a large burlap sack of dog food. He grabbed the worn, tin food dish from the floor adjacent and took a scoop and filled it to the brim with food and set it down. The dog began eating in appreciation. "Sorry, girl." He took his place at the table across from Edward.

"Al, I think we're going to need some extra help. I was thinking Dr. Marcoh?"

"I thought about him too, Brother." Al placed his hand under his chin and thought. "We'll have to contact General Mustang's people to see if we can be put in touch with him.

"Mustang's in Ishval with the rest of his crew...I have no idea how to reach him there." Ed rolled his head on his hands just enough to see Alphonse. "Well...most of this crew's with him." He slowly rose out of his seat and walked heavily to the telephone table in the hallway where he stowed away a tiny book of phone numbers. Upon reaching the round table, he tugged on a spherical, tarnished brass knob, pulling the tiny drawer open and removing a worn address book. Edward didn't have to rifle through the pages long before Al joined him, again, leaving his cane behind. "Ah ha." Finding the number he sought, the young man picked up the telephone with his free hand and dialed for the operator.

"Ed?" Al's question was answered by his brother waiving a hand to shush him. A few moments passed as Edward gave the number to the operator and was connected a few times until finally a voice echoed through the earpiece.

"Havoc mercantile, how can I help you?" The woman answered happily.

"Um, can I speak with Jean?"

"He's here somewhere, may I ask who's calling?"

"Tell him 'little chief.' He'll know me." Ed chuckled as he heard the woman mumbling and the phone picked up by another.

"Is this who I think it is?" Jean Havoc's strong voice rang loudly enough for Alphonse to hear causing the boy to smile with hope.

"Sure is. How are things in the East?" Ed chirped. "Are you still rolling around?"

"Hell no!" Jean chuckled. "Dr. Marcoh did his magic and I'm walking on my own now...I'll send you some pictures of the gang helping me with my PT -pain and torture therapy. When I can get rid of this walking stick I'll be fit for duty again."

"That's great to hear." Ed felt a lot better about Jean. After Lust injured him, Team Mustang lost a great member. "I have a favor to ask, deals with Marcoh."

"Shoot." Jean urged him on.

"I need to get in touch with the good doctor, my mechanic's fallen ill." He hoped his voice didn't sound too desperate.

"That cute blond girl?"

"Yeah, influenza. Can you help me get in touch with him?"

"Sorry Chief." He took a long pause. "Tim Marcoh's in Isvhal with the General and Scar."

"General?" Was he referring to the Ice Queen?

"You didn't hear. Your former commanding officer is now a General. Best I can do is get a message to them for you, I'm sorry about that."

"Damn, Mustang's getting closer to the top...like he promised." He groaned. "Jean, if you would get word to them to call me, it's getting really urgent." Edward slowly gave Havoc the Rockbell's telephone number.

"I'll pass it on today, actually Kain Fuery will once I call him. It was good to hear your voice, Edward."

"Yeah, you too. Take care." He frowned and hung up the phone. "Al, they'll get word to Marcoh and I'm sure he'll call when he gets it...I'm just worried it's gonna take too long."

"Me too, Brother."

"Edward!" Pinako's loud voice flew down the stairwell signaling an end to Ed's break. "Get up here!"

"Go on, Brother." Al smiled and took Ed's coffee mug from him. "I'll find something in the pantry to fix for lunch and dinner, you and Granny just remember to take a break and come downstairs."

"Could you heat up some chicken broth for Win?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Not that she'll eat a lot of it, but we need to try." Ed wished he didn't say that last bit out loud, he knew it only added to the worry that already filled his sensitive brother's heart.

"I...I will." Al wobbled into the kitchen and found Winry's cooking apron and tugged it on as Edward pulled his own weary body up the stairs.


Edward washed his hands with the strong and smelly soap and tugged on the horribly hot mask. He reached for Winry's door handle and dreaded entering her room. For once, he hoped to see her sitting up, smiling in the morning sunshine and berating him for poor automail maintenance. Instead, his vision was assaulted by the all-too-familiar sight of a pale girl prostrate upon sheets almost the same color as her skin as Pinako wiped her forehead with a damp cloth. His shoulders dropped further and he took his place on the wooden chair placed at the foot of her bed.

"She's lost weight." Ed hated to admit it. Winry never was waif-thin. Working with metals and lugging parts around made her body mostly lean muscle – something he secretly admired every time he could without being caught. Now, a week in bed with no appetite caused her to appear so much smaller.

"Yes." Pinako agreed. "If she'd just keep the fever down long enough, she'd be able to keep food in her belly. I've adjusted her fluids some to give her some nutrients." She gazed upon the IV stand at the head of the bed and which was tethered to Winry's right arm.

"Are there no other drugs we could give her to help? I mean, even if you don't have them, if we knew the chemical composition, Al could put them together, I'm sure."

"Ed, I have all that they'd use in any hospital...it's the virus. The damn thing has to run its course." She looked so tired and frail herself.

"Granny, go lay down, let me tend to her." He stood up and motioned to the older woman to do the same. "Please?" The elderly woman answered with a sigh and got up from her chair.

"Call me if it gets any higher, ok?" She handed him the thermometer.

"I will. Al's making lunch. Why don't you sleep and he'll call you to eat and I'll bring something up for Win." Ed's golden eyes seemed so calm, they betrayed the worry tearing up his insides

"Ok, then." She smiled at her grand daughter before slowly making her way out of the room. Ed took Pinko's place at her chair which was closer to Winry.

"Winry?" He picked up a white cloth resting in a white ceramic coated metal basin filled with cool water. Ed wrung it and gently patted the mechanic's head. She turned to him.

"Hey." The girl muttered.

"Good, glad to see you up. Are you hungry?" He knew she wasn't.

"No...but will try...later."

"Al's become quite the cook, you don't want to hurt his feelings, do you?" Ed joked.

"Never." Was all she could utter. Her eyes moved up to meet his own, only hers were red. She'd been crying.

"Win?" Ed left the cool rag on her forehead and he took her hand in both of his. "Why were you crying?"

"Sorry." She moaned. "Hoped you'd not see. Just tired of being in bed." She lied. Really, she and Pinako had an exhausting talk about things after Ed left the room earlier. Winry didn't want him to know they talked about what she wanted of them should she not survive.

"Oh." He emphasized with that, but didn't thing that was really why she cried. But he remembered that the week in Central Hospital after the battle with the Slicer brothers in Lab Five pretty much ruined bed rest for him too. "Well, if you'd cooperate and bring that fever down a little, maybe we could bundle you up and sit on the balcony a little." He knew that was also a pretty lie and so did she.

"That'd be nice." She tried her best not to cry again. "Ed?"

"Hmm?"

"I want to see Alphonse." Too late, the tears fell.

"You...you know it's dangerous for him."

"I know, he...he could stand at the door with a mask. It's just...just."

"Don't say it!" Edward started to get mad. He figured her out as quickly as she did him. "Don't you dare say it!"

"But, Ed."

"Don't fucking 'but, Ed,' me. You are not going to fucking die!" How could she think that? He was so mad at her, he felt like smashing something. Winry met his ranting with quiet laughter. This only made him more angry. "Why are you laughing at me?"

"Silly me." She tried to smile. "Just thinking about that morning you left for Central for the Promised Day." She thought of their own fight only that time Ed doubted himself.

"Uh, yeah?"

"I told you about the same thing." Ironically their roles reversed. "I'm sorry I doubted myself now." Her smile almost appeared normal.

"You better be sorry." He sat back down, still holding her hand. "You're not going to die, not now." Edward spat the words as if he really had any power to stop her death, even without alchemy.

"Edward, I will do my very best...to get better..." Her eyes turned serious.

"Damn right you will."

"...but you're going to have to get yourself ready...get Alphonse ready...for the worst." Before Ed could curse any further, Winry launched into a coughing fit so severe she couldn't catch her breath. The former alchemist was prepared as she'd done this before. He fitted the oxygen cannula to her nose and twisted the nozzle to the tank on the floor until the gas flowed and helped her breathe better. Ed hoped he'd not have to use the mask as she made such a fuss about it the last time. Winry finally settled back down and used the cloth that fell from her forehead, to wipe her mouth. She cleared her throat to finish. "I'm sorry to hit you with the truth, but it is what it is."

"I'm working on Al." Damn Winry for being so pragmatic about all of this. Suddenly, the vision of his own mother laying on her death bed and telling him where the money was and what he needed to after she was gone came flying smack into his head. "But it's nonsense and you know it. You are the strongest woman I know...stronger...stronger than my own mother even." He grit his teeth to finish. "You're not going to die so just quit even considering it." To Ed, that was that and an end to this conversation. He noticed the girl had closed her eyes, the coughing and conversation evidently used up the little strength she had.

"I'm still alive." She startled him. "Just very tired. Gonna take a nap."

"Good. I'll be here." He took the cloth again, re-wet and wrung it and once more placed it on her forehead.

"When I wake up, I'll try to eat." With those words, she fell fast asleep.

"Wonderful, Al'd be happy to hear that." Ed resumed his valiant watch over his ill mechanic and all the while tried to push the horrific thoughts of her dying out of his stubborn head. Finally, he whispered to no one but his own ears. "Tim Marcoh, you'd better come quick."

Like a knife to his gut, the ringing telephone from downstairs broke his melancholy.