Yes! That's right c; I said february and ITS FEBRUARY! (Well depending on what time it is over there)
So I won't be posting ALL of the story now, because I'm having major writer's block :( But I will be posting bit by bit, and once the story's all written I'll post it more frequently c;
Do enjoy, good reader. Do enjoy! And ^-^ reviews are nice writer'sblock killers~ :D
The dreams always started out the same. Well, almost the same.
It always started along the lines of him being sick, or injured, or in some vulnerable position. Then came the worried Winry, so sweet and caring. Then there was kissing (It usually went further than that, but we'll leave it at kissing).
Then she killed him.
Sometimes she choked him with rope, or clothes- even a bra at one point. Sometimes she stabbed him. Asphyxiated him. Poisoned him.
It always ended the same, cruel and brutal way.
Why he was having these dreams, he had no idea. But they were happening every time he fell asleep. The deep circles under his eyes were proof.
"I've been having nightmares." He'd told Al after the first few days. "Regularly." He added.
"Again?" Al asked in a worried tone.
"What do you mean again?" Ed asked. There was a bit of an uncomfortable silence. It's not like he often had nightmares. Well, he did.. But not regularly.
"Are they about anything in particular?" Al asked, trying to change the subject. Ed hesitated.
"Winry." He said. "I keep dreaming she's trying to kill me." He decided to leave the other parts out. You know, sexual dreams, not your typical brotherly conversation topics.
"I once had a dream that Winry and I were married, but not like in a lovey way, but in that weird dream way where nothing makes sense.." He said, going on and on, Ed waiting for him to get to the point. "And you were somehow our child, and we had to run errands in Xing, but yo-"
"Yeah did she slit your throat with a broken glass in your dream?" Ed said, getting impatient. "Or shoot you in the heart?"
"Sorry." Al said, sounding like a kicked puppy.
"No, I'm sorry." Ed sighed. "I'm just grouchy cause I haven't been sleeping well." He stood up to head towards Alphonse but his the room suddenly spun, making him lose his balance and fall back on the bed.
"Are you alright?" Al said, rushing towards him. Ed just grinned.
"I'm fine." He gave his brother a thumbs up. "Just light headed from being stuck in that damn hospital bed for a whole week." He got up once more, putting his jacket on.
"But really, Al don't worry I'm fine." He patted his brother's metal body.
"But if you brought it up, it must be bothering you.."
Ed laughed it off. "I'm fine, Al." He said, making his way out of the room where Winry was waiting for them. The dreams still made him feel a little awkward around Winry, but he hid it better. He had to.
For a hospital, they actually had some pretty decent food here. The only problem was their persistence of wanting to serve milk as a main beverage.
"Lactose intolerant." Ed lied as the lady gave him a glass of water instead. All three of them sat down at a table near a window. Not too close to anyone sick or possibly contagious.
Once he was sitting down and facing his food, Ed realized he wasn't really hungry. Okay the thought of eating this breakfast was extremely unappealing at that moment. He knew, from experience actually, that he would probably need his strength so he forced himself to eat anyways.
"So where are you guys heading next?" Winry asked. She looked genuinely interested as they explained to her, but he could tell she was holding something back. His mind went back to his dream, when she'd said she missed them. Him. And when she'd asked if he missed home.. He realized he was spacing out. Winry looked at him questioningly and he couldn't help but look away, feeling anxiety rising in his chest, which he forced down with a mouthful of eggs.
He couldn't understand why he was having anxiety now. He'd never had anxiety before. Nor had he ever been nervous around Winry. Or anyone.
The anxiety kept rising up.
Wait.. No, that wasn't anxiety.
Ed stood up and quickly ran out of the cafeteria, making it to the bathroom just on time to display his non-digested breakfast in the first stall he reached.
"Are you okay?" Alphonse asked from the doorway. "Brother?"
Ed was getting so sick (literally) of hearing those words. He straightened up and walked out of the stall, rinsed his mouth at the sink and looked at his brother in the mirror.
"I think you might be sick." Al said, placing a hand on Ed's shoulder. "Maybe you should go see the doctor, since we're he-"
"No, it's nothing." Ed said, shrugging his brother's hands off him. "Just some stupid stomach flu or whatever." He said. He knew what it really was though. It was anxiety. He'd seen it in his mother. She rarely showed it, but she'd have anxiety episodes when he was younger. Too young for Al to remember. He'd probably just inherited a touch of it, which was probably even triggering these stupid dreams and his nervousness towards Winry.
"Come on." He said. "Winry's probably worried sick."
"She's not the sick one." Al muttered sarcastically under his breath.
Ed's entire body felt ten times heavier, but he ignored it. It was just part of the anxiety, he knew that.
"Are you okay?" Winry asked, looking worried.
"Of course I am." Ed said, walking ahead of them. After checking out of the hospital officially and leaving the damn building, Ed felt much better. The fresh air, the freedom. Central was alive and well.
So was he, until he got to the train station. His head began spinning again, his body feeling heavy.
"Ed, you're looking kind of pale." Winry said. "Are you feeling alright?" She was right next to him, but her voice sounded a thousand miles away. He tried to take another step forward but his legs decided to just stop working. As did the rest of him, seeing as everything went black, and there was nothing but a sharp pain in his head.
Her hands were on his arms, chest, everywhere, feeling his muscles and looking up at him, smiling mischievously.
"When did you get so big and strong?" She teased. Her blonde hair, usually in a ponytail, was down and.. God, she was gorgeous.
There was wind coming from god-knows-where, blowing her hair into her face as she leaned closer to kiss him. Their bodies were bare and very close, making Ed's heart pound crazily. He took a step to hold her better when he realized he was standing in some sort of puddle. Winry backed away from him, and that's when he noticed she was carrying a bucket of water. In one quick movement she threw its contents at him, soaking him from head to toe.
"Winry!" He yelled. "What's-" His eyes widened when he saw her take out a box of matches. That's when he realized this was not water.
She lit the match, her eyes watching the trail of fire for a few seconds. Ed turned and began to run. He looked back just to see the match hit the trail of gas that lead straight to him. He kept running as fast as he could, feeling the flames getting closer, licking his ankles. He didn't even hear his own screams of agony as the flames danced on his skin.
His entire body was burning, yet not completely. Burning but never completely burnt, so he could suffer longer.
Losing his own arm and leg hadn't even hurt this much. It eventually became so much that he barely felt it. Only an annoying searing warmth.
"He's coming to." Ed heard a voice say. He opened his eyes, feeling as if the light was literally burning his brain. He still felt the warmth from the dream, and a throbbing pain in his temple. He raised his hand to it, feeling a bandage there.
"How are you feeling?" The doctor asked him. Ed glared at him, challenging him to ask another stupid question.
"What happened?" He asked.
"You passed out." Al said firmly. "After you said you were fine." He was clearly pissed.
"You also hit your head." He added as if he didn't much care.
"Just.. Tired." Ed said, his speech feeling a bit slurred.
"Actually, we ran some tests.." The doctor began, his tone promising … Not the best news. "I'm afraid there was more than just fatigue at work here." Everyone in the room was listening to him. "I'm afraid you've contracted plague 61."
Ed just stared at him. Everyone else just dead silent.
"You're joking right?" He laughed. He looked around, hoping the others would join in his laughter at the stupid cruel joke. But when no one laughed, when Al stayed completely still and silent, and Winry's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes watered, he knew this wasn't a joke.
Plague 61 just so happened to be the illness that had taken his mother away… And more than 61 000 people in less than a month. Thus the name Plague 61.
"Science is much more advanced than it was during the epidemic." The doctor began. "There are treatments, though no guarantee. But the chances of it killing you are extremely low." He said. Still, no one said anything.
Edward was actually sick. Possibly fatally so.
"Don't worry." The doctor continued. "No one has died from Plague 61 in six months." He said reassuringly.
"I'll try not to break the record." Ed replied sarcastically.
"Don't talk like that you idiot!" Winry said, hitting his shoulder. She was clearly pissed and worried. There was genuine hurt in her eyes.
Could this actually, seriously be happening? He laughed emotionlessly. How ironically depressing would it be if he died by the same illness that took his mother?