Disclaimer: I DISCLAIM

A/N: How does "Invective" sound? I think it sounds pretty nice. Who wants to tell me? You? Okay, good. I love you now.


I Didn't Mean (soon to be Invective? Maybe?)

Chapter Four

The doctor that had answered his call was a kind, dark-haired woman named Lilia Scott. Roy may have taken the time to flirt with her if he wasn't so worried about Edward. He had attempted to sleep on the couch for a few hours but had woke to the boy's screams. He had found him on the floor, puking and sweating and absolutely on fire. Ed was going on and on about nothing, mumbling complicated formulas he couldn't even understand and screaming about horrible things he had never known. All the time apologizing over and over again. A mantra of "I'm sorry"'s in the middle of a bout of horrid knowledge no child should possess. Nor should it be possible for a child to possess. Roy had been frightened beyond belief, but when the boy had fallen back into a slightly calm slumber he had been almost curious as well. How was it that a boy his age knew so much? He had known Edward was a genus, but this was almost eerie. He had no idea how much the boy knew. Imagine what he could accomplish if he learned to put that knowledge to use! Imagine the attention Roy would get for rediscovering this child's genius!

He was horrible. Truly. The boy had just been screaming, crying, and retching and all he could think about was his next promotion.

He had called for a doctor immediately.

Lily, as she told him to call her, was in fact very concerned for the boy. She agreed immediately that she would not speak of this visit, and said that she just wanted to help.

"It's not my job to gossip," she had said when he stopped her on her way to his room, "it's my job to help that sick boy in there."

That had been good enough for Ry, and he had let her by. He could tell she was young, but she obviously knew what she was doing. She strode into the room with a sense of authority, and placed a firm hand on the boy's head with concern in her eyes. She looked up at him from her place kneeling beside the bed and took in the sight of him for a moment. "He's not your son is he?" she asked, and he almost nodded, but then shook his head quickly no, "Poor boy, I didn't think so. He has an extremely high fever and we have to get it to go down. How old is he?"

"Fifteen." Roy said.

"Go run a bath, make sure it's lukewarm. It can't be too cold. I have to take his temperature and try to get him awake and out of bed, okay?" she asked him with a commanding tone, and he fled to the bathroom almost immediately.

Lily looked down at the small, blonde form limp and sweating on the bed before her. She brought out a thermometer and got it positioned correctly into his mouth with only a small amount of difficulty. She could see that the boy and the Flame Alchemist were not related, he was so dark in his features and this boy was so light and golden in his, but she had hoped fervently for a moment that he was. She didn't want to think about another reason why a young child would be sick in a military official's home and have to be kept a secret. Where were his parents? Why was he here? A full minute had passed so Lily looked down at the reading on the thermometer. 105 degrees could kill a young boy his age. If his fever got any higher he surely wouldn't last. She felt a slight twinge of panic in the back of her mind. She couldn't let such a young child die on her.

She pulled the small blanket off of the boy and pulled him up quickly, hoping to wake him. It worked a bit and two small golden slits peeked up at her. She paused for a moment, startled by the honey color of his liquid hues, before gently placing her hands on either side of his face.

"Honey? Can you hear me? I need you to get up, okay?"

The two golden eyes widened slightly and he nodded a very small nod. Lily wasn't sure if he knew what was happening or not, but that was all she needed for now. She pulled him to the side of the bed and swung his legs around to the floor. He pushed up against her softly and helped her stand him up, and she was grateful for this small amount of cooperation.

Roy ran in from the bathroom and grabbed his other arm. He was a lot easier to move with his help.

"Really, really heavy for such a small boy," she thought out loud.

"Don't let him hear you call him small," Roy responded with a ghost of a smile.

Lily offered him a small smile in return as they made their way across the hall and int the bathroom where the boy's bath was waiting. She looked down at him and saw that he had most of what must be his normal, everyday clothes on: a black jacket, black shirt, and black leather pants. Only his feet were bare, and covered in socks. She frowned, he shouldn't be wearing these clothes. He's sick, and they felt a little damp, "Roy, leather pants? Are these wet? Why do you have him in these clothes?"

"I just found him last night,"

Lily frowned again, "What? Found? Do you know who this boy is? Why are you keeping him a secret? We need to find his parents."

"No," Roy clarified sternly, "I know who he is. I'm the closest thing he had to a guardian here in Central."

Lily shook her head, "We have to get these off," she said, matter of factually, motioning to his clothes. Roy nodded.

But, wait, his automail, "Wait, you have to promise less questions then." he said, grabbing lightly on her wrist when she reached for Ed's jacket.

"What are you talking about?"

"Just promise," Roy said quickly. There really was no time for this. They both knew that. Lily nodded, and Roy released her wrist. Lily nodded, and Roy released her wrist. Lily crouched down and went for the zipper of Edward's pants while Roy tore off his jacked and pulled his undershirt up over his head with a swift jerk. His automail shined in the bathroom light and Lily hadn't looked up yet. Somehow, Roy knew that she wouldn't keep her promise. The one about the questions at least.

"Where are his parents?"

There it was. Well, technically it wasn't about Edward's body, or rather, lack there of, but it was still a question. There was no time to fight about it. He folded up Ed's jacket and shirt and placed them in the corner of the room, "He doesn't have parents," he replied, coming back over and undoing the belt she was having trouble with.

Lily looked up with sad eyes to meet Roy's, and whatever she was about to say died on her tongue with that movement. A short intake of breath was the only sound she managed to make. Her eyes skimmed over his shoulder and down his arm, silver and glinting in the bright white of the bathroom. His arm? Was that a machine? What was it called again? Automail? Lily cursed her own experience, she had just moved from her small hometown very far away to seek out a job here and was only just learning about these things. But, this boy was so young. Why did he have no parents and no arm? That...

"No time, Lily," Roy muttered, and she shook her head to steel her thoughts. Roy found that she was shocked enough to not ask any further into it. What good luck he had. That, of course, was sarcasm.

Lily grabbed at the waist of the boy's pants and pulled down gently, a stark comparison to the way that Roy had unclothed the boy. She would have to express her disapproval to him later. She had his rather tight pants to the middle of his thighs when they snagged on something. What in the world? She tried to pull gently down again and met the same resistance as before. Roy's hands were suddenly next to hers, pulling roughly downward. The boy's pants ripped a little and Lily flinched. How dare he be so rough with him?

"Sorry," Roy offered, trying to step the boy out of the pants, "but it was gonna take a while to get those unstuck."

Lily gasped at the sudden realization that came with Roy's apology. Another automail limb stared back at her startled expression, cold and steely.

"In the bathtub Lily, fix him." Roy said, reminding her that she was here to make him better, not to stare at him.

Lily nodded and made a conscious effort to suppress her curiosity in accordance to his limbs. She stood and placed a hand on his fiery forehead. He had not gotten any cooler. She motioned for Roy to help her and placed a gentle hand on his thigh, lifting him slightly with Roy's assistance. The two moved the boy toward the water and lowered him gently into the lukewarm liquid. The boy's topaz eyes shot open abruptly and he gasped a deep rasping breath and turned his head in every direction, a painful shiver running through his entire body. His fever making the water seem icy cold. "Al?" he yelled out suddenly, his hands gripping onto the side of the bathtub with fear, "Al! No! Al!" he screamed out again, his grip was white knuckled and Lily noticed that he was causing the side of the bathtub to creak with the force of his prosthetic limb's grip. "Alphonse!" another violent shiver took over his body and didn't stop. Lily looked up at Roy, who looked more worried than she could have thought possible. She was half worried he would have a panic attack. This was common, fevers often set people into fits of hallucinations. And the shock of the water could send him straight out of his right mind given the height of his fever. She should talk to Roy, calm him down. As long as the by's fever dropped it would be okay, the only thing she was worried about was that strength of his. And if his fever didn't break... But that was something she would think about only if the situation arose. "Al! Don't take him away! NO!"

"Who's Alphonse?" Lily asked, concerned with the pained expression on the boy's face.

Roy sat down on the floor beside her, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He had to settle down, if something happened and he was needed to help Lily then he needed to be calm. Ed's screams weren't helping though, "His little brother," he finally answered.

"He's my only brother! Don't take him away! Alphonse! No!" Ed screamed out, his trembling form raking the walls of the shower with clawed hands, reaching out for something unknown to them, "AL!"

"Is..." she was afraid to ask, "Is he dead too?" Lily finished, afraid of the answer.

"No. Almost though, but Edward saved him." Roy answered. It felt good to talk about Edward to someone right now, when he was so confused and didn't know what to do. He knew that he shouldn't say too much, but he felt as if he needed to talk to someone.

"Alphonse!" Ed called.

"Edward? His name suits him," Lily said, realizing it was the first she had heard of the boy's name, "so he saved his brother?"

"Mhmm..." Roy nodded, "it's not really my story to tell." Roy knew it wasn't, no matter how much he felt as if he needed to talk about it.

"Is that what he's talking about, you think? That moment?"

"Maybe."

"Where did you find him?" Lily asked, thinking back to before they had undressed Edward. Roy had said he had only found him last night and that was why he hadn't changed his clothes before this.

"In the middle of the road in the rain, unconscious and sick."

Lily gasped a little, watching as Edward visibly calmed. His body too cold to make such a desperate act as before, at least in his mind, "Give him back, give him back," he whispered, "give him back."

"The middle of the road?" she asked, "What was he doing there?" it might have been a stupid question, but she didn't care.

Roy was quiet for a few seconds, "I don't know," he finally whispered.

"You said that you were the closest thing to a guardian he has. Where's his little brother at?"

"They were fighting."

"They live with you then?"
"No. They live together, the two of them."

"How old is Alphonse,"

"Fourteen."

"So, Edward takes care of his brother then?" Lily was concerned, such young boys deserved a family and a good life.

"Yes."

"Shouldn't you find them a family?"

"Edward made his choice, he's not a child anymore."

"What?" Lily asked, confused, and just a little bit angry.

Abrupt movement in Edward's direction caused them both to look over. The boy was screaming and crying for Alphonse still, and his fingers traced intricate patterns on the walls around him, on the floor of the porcelain tub, on his arms and chest and forehead.

"What's he doing?" Lily asked, watching his fingers move deftly to create invisible lines all around him.

"I think... Alchemy," Roy answered, not really making the poor doctor any less confused.

"Whether it's my legs or both my arms... I can even give you my heart, so please!" Edward said almost calmly, his eyes closing with some strange sense of finality, before he squeezed his lids shut tight against one another and cried out, "Give him back to me! He's my brother!" he growled the last words out through clenched teeth, his neck straining forward and his eyes screwed firmly shut still. A moment later he screamed, before words started rushing out of his mouth, quick and scrambled. He seemed in some eerie calm now, but his golden eyes were panicky and horrified, darting from right to left, listing off sequences of number, places, events that Roy and Lily didn't understand. In the midst of it all there were whispers of "Stop, please, stop, my head will explode, too much, not again, please, just give him back. Stop it, it's too much." Then came the words again, like an infinite list of lost knowledge pouring from the mouth of this vessel of a boy. Lily was speechless, staring at the young man uneasily. He had already expounded some of the things she had learned in medical school more far more in depth and in far more detail then she could ever hope to conceive. What was going on? Who was this boy? What was wrong? Roy could only listen close, trying to make out what the boy was saying as he started a list of ingredients and numbers and amounts, before moving onto an explanation of a battle that took place during the War in Ishbal, and then some sort of roster of soldiers involved in something, and listing the number of rooms in the original blueprint for the Eastern Headquarters. Here it was again, the boy was in a state of ineffable and inconceivable possession of knowledge. Genius. The fever taking over the function of his mouth and exposing his complex, rushed thought to the world. The poor boy. He seemed so horrified. How did he know what he did? How did this happen?

Then he was crying lightly, holding his automail arm tightly with his flesh hand, "Al, I'm sorry, it was all I could get, I'm sorry."

A gasp, clear and sharp, pierced the veil of their thoughts as the boy took a long shaking breath of air into his lungs. Then he was quiet.

Lily leaned over the side of the tub, "Sweetie? Are you here? Are you here with us?"

Edward's golden eyes assessed the woman before him, suddenly calm and calculating, "Who are you? And why do I feel like shit?" he finally let out with a snarl, "And where the hell are my clothes?"

Roy just about broke his own cheeks from the relieved smile that came with his words. Here was Edward, this was Edward.

Lily frowned and leaned closer, placing her hand on his forehead. He was cooler, his fever was breaking, "I," she began, "am a doctor. My name is Lilia. And you, are sick, Edward. And your clothes," she pointed to the corner, "are over there."

Edward shivered, "I want out of here, it's so cold."

"Your bodies on fire, honey," she answered, "you're not really cold. We need to cool you down, okay?"

"Hell no."

"Shut up," Lily ordered, "I am here to help you and I will whether you like it or not," Roy raised an eyebrow in her direction, clearly impressed.

Edward gazed at the kind looking woman in front of him and suddenly felt horrible about the way he had just spoken to her. Even though it was hard to think when he was so cold, so cold, so cold, she was only trying to help him. Even if he didn't deserve it. And here he was yelling and angry and taking. Equivalent exchange, but what had he ever done for them to help him? Nothing. So he owed her now, very likely his life, which might not be worth much, but her effort was worth more, her care. And had she just called him honey?

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "you're trying to help and I'm yelling and being awful. Thank you. I ow you now, anything you want, anything, I'm sorry." he forced out through shaking teeth and a quivering jaw. He needed to apologize, needed her to forgive him. He didn't know why he felt so strongly this way, but he couldn't help himself. He needed this, "forgive me," it was almost a plea.

Roy frowned, and the Edward he knew was gone.

Lily's anger evaporated immediately, "You poor boy! Of course I forgive you! You're sick and hardly lucid and freezing. You're allowed to snap!" she leaned forward and hugged the quivering boy with warm arms. An impulse she refused to ignore. The shaking form beneath her responded with one hesitant flesh arm and a blonde head pressed tightly to her neck. The boy started to sob uncontrollably. She didn't know what to do, but her instincts took over. Her maternal sense told her to hold him tighter, to keep holding on. Even though her dress was soaking up cold water and she was beginning to feel cold as well. He cried loud and solidly against her, soaking the top of her dress as well as the bottom, but in this moment she didn't care. This poor boy. What was so wrong? What a poor, sweet boy. She wanted to help him. She wanted to make it better. She wanted to make him better.

He fell asleep in her arms, leaning against a strange woman in a bathtub filled with lukewarm water and invisible lines.