A Day in the Life


Edward woke to the sound of paper snapping. He blinked a couple of times, his blurred vision clearing enough that he could see the black-haired man dressed in a suit, a newspaper obscuring much of his body. "Whut're you," he slurred, his mouth too dry to make proper sounds.

"Ah, Edward. It's good to see you awake." Mustang folded the paper closed, making it a neat little packet, easy to carry. "It looks like someone did a number on you." From the tone of his voice, Mustang knew the identity of the person who'd put Edward in this hospital bed. "Do you remember how you wound up here?"

Closing his eyes, Edward started to inhale deeply. The ache in his ribs stopped him, making him cough a couple of times before he managed to regain control. "Yeah."

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me how you tracked 'La Belle' down," Mustang asked dryly.

"I have my ways." Edward wasn't about to implicate the people who'd helped Alphonse and him find Winry.

Mustang snorted. "Whatever you've done, you are aware she's locked up, and she will be tried for the murders she committed?"

He clenched his jaw. Winry, killing people. What in hell had Kimblee and the homunculi done to her, to turn her into this? Worse, would there be a way to bring her back, without destroying her completely? "Talk to Marcoh," he grated out. "Get him in to see her." Edward glared at Mustang, determined to make his point. "He can help her."

"He can help a woman who's murdered so many people," Mustang said, "who put you in the hospital with a concussion and numerous broken and fractured bones?"

"Like it hasn't happened before. It's just one of those days, Mustang. I'll heal," Edward insisted. "Get Marcoh in to see Winry. And Al, too." If he wasn't there already. "And I want to see her, too."

"You're making a lot of demands for a man who's laid up." Mustang rose to his feet, tucking the newspaper under his arm. Edward could just catch a glimpse of a screaming headline about the Fullmetal Alchemist hospitalized. He hoped Winry wasn't in the article. Mustang caught his attention with the question, "Are you sure it was worth it?"

"If it'd been Hawkeye, would you still be asking me that question?"

Only the faintest of hesitations let Edward know he'd scored a hit, then Mustang snorted. "Have it your way, Fullmetal. I'll try to locate Dr. Marcoh. Unless you have a way of contacting him on your own?"

Edward didn't respond beyond arching his brows.

"Of course," Mustang said. "Well. Enjoy your convalescence." He pushed through the hospital door, leaving it swinging behind him.

Sighing, Edward closed his eyes, remembering the last instant of the fight, when Winry had straddled his hips. She'd pulled back her fist, her face twisted in rage. "Winry," he'd said, "I won't fight you."

Something in her eyes flickered, just enough to give him hope. Then she screamed and Edward couldn't remember any more.

"She's in there," he said, to hear the words out loud. "She's in there, and we'll get her back. I promise, Winry. You'll be able to come home again."