One Year, Six Months, Part Three


The first realization Edward came to was that everything hurt. The second was that he didn't really care. By the aftertaste in his mouth, he'd had a dose of something; many doses, maybe. He tried to moisten his lips but his tongue was like leather and his mouth felt like a desert wind had blown around inside it. As scratchy as his eyes were, the wind must've blown sand into them, too. Moving was difficult; even his flesh limbs seemed to be weighted down with lead and Edward couldn't tell if his automail was working properly. His memories were fuzzy and strange but he knew that he didn't remember being in a room painted this awful shade of mint green.

He couldn't make out much in the room, despite the sun shining through a pair of clean windows. Unable to focus, Ed's eyes began to droop closed when he noticed a splash of yellow in amongst all the green and white. Everything ached when he tried to move though Edward wasn't even sure why he was moving. Yellow…Winry's hair is that color…Winry? A moan escaped him, past dry tongue and cracked lips, making the figure turn toward him.

"Welcome back."

Edward's vision of her was still a little fuzzy, despite Winry moving closer. His mouth opened and closed again and once more, he tried to work enough saliva into it so he could at least answer her, maybe ask a question or two – Where am I? What are you doing here? Why are you here? – but the best he could manage was a croak.

"Shh, it's okay." Winry turned and her figure blurred and shuddered, making Edward close his eyes to keep from getting dizzy. He could hear the splashing sound of water; his nose twitching, he could even smell it. "I've got a straw so you can drink this, okay?" A prickly thing touched his lip and Edward opened his mouth eagerly, just enough to tighten his lips around the straw. He sucked up the water, holding it in his mouth for a few seconds, enjoying that liquid sensation after feeling so arid, then swallowed it. His second drink drained the cup, the slurping sounds making him whine. "You can't have a lot at once, Ed." He wanted to argue but was too tired and in too much pain. "Rest for a little while and you can have more." A hand slid under his bangs and Edward sighed at the unexpected relief her cool palm brought, resting on his forehead. "I'm going to tell the doctor you're awake." Grumbling a protest when her hand withdrew, Edward was mollified when Winry touched his cheek. "Don't worry. I'll be back." Thinking he heard a catch in her voice, Edward turned his head but she was already gone, like a ghost. He let his eyes drift closed, wondering if Winry had actually been there with him as darkness took him away again.


The sound of a door opening and closing brought Roy's head up and, rising to his feet, he spied Miss Rockbell exiting Edward's room. She stood perfectly still for a few seconds, the fingers of one hand pressed to her mouth, still linked to Edward by her other hand remaining on the doorknob. Not looking in his direction, Miss Rockbell took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders and walking toward the nurse's desk, her strides purposeful.

"What is it?" Gracia asked, rousing from the stupor that the wait had put them all in.

"Miss Rockbell just left Edward's room." Roy touched Gracia's shoulder as she moved up beside him. He narrowed his eyes, watching the girl walk down the hall. "Something must have happened."

"Where is she?" Gracia spotted Miss Rockbell's back and started after her.

Roy caught her before she moved past. "Wait, let her do this," he said in answer to her unasked question. "It's probably better for her. She'll come to us after she speaks to the nurse."

Riza got up from her chair as well, the corners of her mouth turned down. "I hope," she said softly, "that nothing has gone wrong."

"I think not." Roy patted Gracia's shoulder, glancing at Riza. When both women looked at him, he said, "If it had, I doubt she would've left Edward's room."

Shortly, a nurse bustled down the hall, Miss Rockbell right beside her. The nurse entered Edward's room though Miss Rockbell held back, staring at the door and heaving a sigh. As if she could feel their eyes on her, she turned, offering the trio a weary smile as she drew closer. "Ed woke up."

"That's wonderful," Gracia said, hugging Miss Rockbell. The girl put up with it, patting Gracia's back until she was released. "Did he say anything? How is he?"

Though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes, Miss Rockbell said, "He couldn't really talk but he had some water before he fell back asleep." She paused, taking a breath. "He recognized me. I don't think he knew where he was." Her brow furrowed and she touched her chin with her fingertips then turned her attention to Roy. "Can you tell me what happened to him?"

Roy spread his hands, both his mouth and eyes tightening. He'd explained part of this earlier but wasn't sure if Miss Rockbell had actually heard anything he or Riza had said. "A chimera found him, as best as I can piece together, one who didn't particularly care for State Alchemists."

Miss Rockbell sank into one of the chairs, her expression darkening. "Ed's a better fighter than that," she muttered, "even if his fingers weren't working right." She thumped her fist on her thigh. "Even if his automail was completely broken." Almost to herself, she went on, "I've seen him fight. He uses every trick he can."

"Miss Rockbell," Roy squatted in front of her, laying his hands over hers. "I saw the scene of the battle." He met her worried gaze steadily, hating that he had to say this. "Something was definitely off with Edward's transmutations. He created walls that crumbled under my touch." Hesitating, Roy knew he needed to talk to her about this. "Did you read Edward's chart?" When she nodded slowly, he said, "The surgeons prescribed morphine but even at the dose prescribed, it was evident Edward was still in a great deal of pain."

As he spoke, Roy watched Miss Rockbell's expression close off; her eyes become distant. "The last time I saw him," her voice seemed to come from very far away, "I thought Ed might be eating opium. I couldn't prove it and we got into a fight before I could ask him about it." She pulled one of her hands free, covering her eyes with it. "Not that he would've told me the truth."

"Miss Wagner was here earlier, Winry," Gracia said, taking a seat next to the girl. "She didn't seem quite right. First Lieutenant Storch took her home." Shifting her weight uncomfortably, Gracia met Roy's and Riza's eyes. "She thought she'd been brought to the hospital because Edward was dying."

"He's trying to." Hand lowering from her face, Miss Rockbell's mouth tightened in a grim line.

"I'm sorry, Winry," Riza sighed softly. "We had no proof that Edward was eating opium."

"Just a suspicion, like you." Roy squeezed her hands, getting to his feet and walking a few steps away. "The military does have a medical team to help with this sort of thing but it would go on Edward's record." He glanced over his shoulder at the young woman knotting her fingers together. "I'd prefer that not happen."

"Roy and I tried to talk to him." Gracia touched Miss Rockbell's shoulder.

"I'm sure you got as far as I did." Her smile was somewhere between wry and brokenhearted.

Leaning back in her chair, Gracia sighed, her gaze drifting to Edward's door. "He walked out."

"Angrily." Roy added.

"So, the same thing exactly." Miss Rockbell stretched her arms in front of her, standing slowly. Roy watched as she rubbed her thumb over her third finger, as if playing with an invisible ring. Seeming to realize what she was doing, Miss Rockbell shook her hands in the air. "I need some awful hospital tea to wake me up." She offered a somewhat apologetic grin.

"Do you want one of us to go with you?" Riza prepared to rise but Miss Rockbell held up her palm in protest.

"I need a little bit of time." Her voice roughened and she shrugged her shoulders abruptly, as if to throw off the sorrow surrounding her. The furrows on her brow deepened. "I'll be back soon."

Gracia winced in reaction as Riza said quietly, "If something changes, we'll come find you." Miss Rockbell hesitated, her head dropping in a jerky nod as she started down the hallway.


Thunderheads rose in the afternoon sky, towering columns of grey clouds reaching high into the sky, promising the relief of rain from the afternoon heat. Izumi Curtis shaded her eyes to stare up into the sky, hoping that the rain that fell would last long enough to wash the heat away. Her mouth crimped at the thought of getting a shower that would turn Dublith into a steam bath. She was too old for that sort of nonsense.

Barking out a laugh at her inadvertent thought about her age, Izumi finished sweeping off the stoop to the butcher shop and stepped inside. Children usually stopped by during the heat of the day to beg a piece of ice to suck on, something that she, Sig and Mason had no problem with supplying, even if the kids were usually terrified of Sig and wouldn't even come into the shop if he was the only one behind the counter. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the paper curtains, the shades enough to block the heat but not to keep out the light. The shades kept the interior cool; smelling, as always, of sawdust and meat.

Mason scrubbed the counter, smiling as Izumi came back inside. "So, what's it look like out there?"

She grimaced, gesturing above her head to indicate the height of the thunderheads. "They're going grey. I'd expect rain later."

"Hope it's enough to cool us off." Mason unconsciously echoed her earlier thoughts.

Izumi nodded in agreement, fanning the still air across her face with her hand. She took the broom, replacing it in its spot in the corner behind the counter, and continued on into the work area. Sig glanced up as she came into the room before continuing his work on cutting up a lamb to display in the case out front. Izumi picked up one of the knives and starting it on the whetstone. Sharp blades – good blades – were very important in their business. If a piece of meat wasn't cut clean, a customer might not buy it. Meat was about outward appearances. It had to look good or it didn't get sold.

The soft shurring of the blade against the whetstone soothed her thoughts, let them move of their own volition. Izumi focused on the 'whick-whick' sound, finishing with one blade and moving on to the next. The rhythmic motion, the familiar noise, it was almost enough to put her into a trance except for the sudden jangle of the telephone in the main portion of the shop.

Sig dried his hands in preparation for the call when Mason poked his head through the doorway. "Izumi? It's for you. A girl?"

"Really?" She exchanged a curious look with her husband, setting aside the knife and starting for the doorway. "What girl?"

"Dunno." He shrugged, stepping out of her way. "Said she was a friend of Ed's, though."

Izumi heard Sig following behind her as she picked up the receiver from the countertop. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Curtis?" There was something to the tone of voice that snapped Izumi's head up, her hand tightening around the receiver.

"This is she." Her mouth didn't want to form the words, felt strange and stiff. "You called about Ed?"

"Yes, ma'am."

There was a long pause and Izumi could hear the girl trying to get herself under control. Her own fingers dug into the wooden frame of the countertop, her knuckles whitening on the receiver. "He's not," she blurted out, horrified at the implication.

"No." The word came back, almost a whisper. "No, he's alive. He was beaten badly in a fight, Mrs. Curtis." Another pause. "I'm sorry." Her voice steadied. "This is Winry Rockbell. We met…." She trailed off.

"At Alphonse's funeral." Izumi remembered the young, pretty blonde; her grandmother standing close beside her. Alphonse had asked Winry to marry him; he'd written to Izumi to let her know, including a little sketch he'd drawn of his darling girl. "Ed was in a fight?" She tried desperately to hold onto the image in her head, of two young boys with eyes like gold coins, staring up at her in determination.

"Yes, he's in the hospital now." The young woman – Winry – took a deep breath that shuddered through the line. "I don't know if he's been in contact with you, Mrs. Curtis, before this but he's not been very," the hesitation lingered, "well since Al died."

There was something Winry wasn't saying. "Miss Rockbell. What is wrong with Ed?"

The hiss and crackle of static held the line for the long period of two heartbeats before Winry said, "He's addicted to opium."

It was the girl's turn to wait while Izumi let the words echo in her mind. They rolled around like marbles inside her skull, not really making contact with anything. "Opium?" Izumi barely recognized the sound of the word coming out of her mouth.

"His commanding officer doesn't want it on his record. I think…I need to bring him to you, Mrs. Curtis. He's not listening to anything I say and," Winry's voice thickened and blurred through the lines, the words indistinguishable.

Closing her eyes to ward off the sudden pain welling inside her, Izumi nodded. "Yes, yes. Of course. My husband and I will come to you." She heard the words 'Central' and the name of the hospital. "We'll be on the very next train, Miss – Winry." Carefully replacing the receiver in its cradle, Izumi turned to Sig and Mason, her face a tight mask. "It's Ed." She reached out her hand and Sig took it. "We need to go."

"We will." He squeezed her fingers gently and Izumi crashed into his chest, tears rolling down her cheeks, Sig anchoring her while she cried.


The room came slowly into focus as Edward woke. He blinked, the stray thought drifting through his mind that at least he didn't feel like he'd been left in a desert for weeks this time. Like before, the pale green resolved itself into walls, an uncurtained window letting in light from outside. Like before, a blond woman was in the room and Edward almost collapsed in relief at the sight of her. He tried to say her name but his mouth was still too dry to manage more than a two-syllable croak.

"Hello, Edward." She smiled despite his obvious disappointment. "Winry is getting something to eat. She'll be back shortly." Captain Hawkeye brushed his hair out of his eyes, a surprisingly comforting touch. "Do you need anything? A drink?"

Nodding made his head swim but Edward couldn't exactly say much. He tried a little grin when Hawkeye brought the glass close, offering him the straw. Closing his cracked lips around the paper tube, Edward sipped at the water, knowing that the straw would collapse soon under the moisture. Still, he managed to get a couple of mouthfuls before the suction and water conspired against the paper and closed it off. "Thanks." The word came out soft and hoarse and Edward's larynx bobbed as he swallowed again, trying to work some moisture in his mouth.

"You're welcome, Edward." Hawkeye set the glass on the table next to the bed. Edward watched it move out of his range, dismayed. Interpreting his look, she went on. "You can have some more water in a little bit. Winry and your nurse were quite specific about that; you're not to take more than a few sips at a time."

Silence hung between them. Edward wanted more water but not enough to argue about it. It felt like he was wrapped in batting, tucked away from the world. That, coupled with the recurring desert in his mouth, meant he was being fed drugs. Edward wondered briefly what kind of medications had been put in his system then followed up the question with morphine, the hospital standard. It didn't lessen the pain any but Edward didn't really care. That was the great thing about narcotics. If you wanted the pain to go away, you took something else. You could drown it in booze or float away from it with opium. Sometimes, if it was bad enough, a different sort of pain could prove a distraction. And sometimes the pain just overwhelmed you and you wanted to take whatever way you could to make it end.

"Do you know why you're in the hospital?" Hawkeye touched his hand, a fleeting press of her fingers against his knuckles.

Dragging his thoughts out of the downward spiral, Edward blinked at Hawkeye. "Fight?" He remembered a woman, someone big and scary, like Colonel Armstrong in female form. Had she been shouting? His fingers ached suddenly though Edward ignored the sensation. Pain seemed far away at this point.

"You were in a fight." Somehow understanding if she moved too quickly, he wouldn't be able to track the gesture, Hawkeye nodded, slow and deliberate. "You were in surgery for some time. Your doctor or Winry will be able to tell you more about that."

The only reason Edward didn't roll his eyes at the idea of a lecture from Winry Rockbell was his eyes didn't want to move that way. Instead, he let out a huffing sigh, one that made him wince as pain chipped away at his ribs. Sluggish memory supplied him with the image of Winry, standing where Hawkeye now stood. Edward recalled his relief at the sight of her and wished his stomach didn't curdle at the thought of seeing her now. Shifting his weight, he bit his lip in agony. The morphine was wearing off. Maybe it wasn't the thought of Winry that was making him feel sick. Swallowing hard, Edward closed his eyes.

"Hawkeye?" He heard her shift closer, the sound of her rustling clothing seeming like sandpaper rubbed against his eardrums. "…need somethin'…" His stomach tightened, forcing his body to curl like a fist clenching. "…fuck…."

"Edward?" Hawkeye moved away from him to the door that squealed open, the sound piercing his brain like a nail shoved through his eye. "I need a doctor, now!"