Chapter Ten
"Brother, how are you?" Alphonse asked when he managed to get a phone call through to his brother.
"Wish I wasn't here," Edward responded. "I wish I was out looking for the stone so I could fix you." Alphonse wanted to sigh, but refrained from doing so. He didn't want Ed to know how helpless and somewhat disappointed he felt.
"You know that you can't fix me until you fix yourself, brother," Al said. "When you get yourself better and out of the hospital, then we can go searching for the stone. You'll be better then."
Edward bit his lip. "You know what, you're right. I need to get better. I gotta go, they're calling me in for another therapy session, bye." Ed then hung up the phone, sighing softly before returning to the rec room.
Ed had kept the issue a secret, and he knew this wasn't something normal people did, but he would never admit that he had an issue to deal with. He knew what he was going to do. He was going to get out of the hospital doing whatever it took and then work on getting the Philosophers stone so that he could fix his brother. After all, that's the only reason he was in the military that had put him in the horrible hospital.
"Doctor Warren?" Edward called when he spotted the woman in the rec room writing on a clipboard – probably observing other patients and their conditions. Ed didn't want to admit that she might've been observing him as well.
"What is it, Edward?" Doctor Warren asked when she looked up from the notes she had been collecting.
"I have Bulimia," was all Ed said. He found a pain in his chest when he said it.
"Yes you do," Doctor Warren said. "So now that you've finally admitted that you have a disease, are you ready to work on your recovery?"
"When's the soonest I can get out of here?" Ed asked.
"Well, we recommend a three month stay, but if all is well beforehand, I'll release you as I see fit, or your guardian can come in and sign an AMA form," Doctor Warren explained.
"Thanks," Edward said. Now that he knew what needed to happen, he knew exactly what to do. He would just need to control his urge until he was out of the clear. Ed was quick to head back to the phones and dial Hughes' number.
"Hughes residence, Gracia speaking," Gracia answered the phone. Edward could hear Elysia in the background playing with Alphonse.
"Mrs. Hughes, would it be all right if I talked to Mr. Hughes?" Edward asked. He knew she wouldn't refuse.
"Of course, let me just get him," Gracia said. Edward could hear her calling for Hughes before he picked up the phone.
"Ed?" Hughes asked into the phone.
"Hey, Hughes," Edward said, biting his lip. What if he couldn't get Hughes to pick him up? What if the man saw through his lies? "I know I have a problem now, and I want to work on it…I just want to work on it with you in a…familiar setting."
"So you admit that you have an eating disorder?" Hughes asked.
"Yeah," Ed said. Every time he admitted there was a problem a piece of him convinced himself further that there wasn't. "Would it be all right if I came back with you?"
"I'm on my way now," Hughes said. "I'll be there soon, but I need to get Roy and convince him to sign the papers to get you out. He is your legal guardian, after all."
"Just hurry," Edward said. "I don't know how much longer I can stay here without losing my mind. The people here are crazier than I am."
"I'm on it."
"For the last time, Hughes; I don't think Edward is ready to leave the hospital yet," Roy said as they entered the office. "I don't see the point in bringing me here when I just don't know if I can sign those papers with good conscience."
"Roy, I know you don't think it's a good idea, but will you please sign the damn forms?" Hughes asked just as they approached the receptionist.
"I want to see him before I even consider signing him out," Roy finally said before Doctor Warren was approaching them.
"Hello, colonel Mustang, Mr. Hughes," Doctor Warren greeted. "I understand that you've come to sign Edward out of the hospital."
"He's ready to come home and work on his problem without the hospital's help," Hughes said.
"We'd like to see him before I sign the forms," Mustang added.
"I'll send for him," Doctor Warren said. "You two need to understand, though…Bulimics tend to lie, telling their loved ones that they're better. They can hide it very well, and even maintain a healthy body weight. I just want you to be prepared for when you bring him home."
"If," Mustang interjected.
"You're going to be bringing him home sometime," Doctor Warren said before pressing a button on the pager she kept clipped to her belt, unclipping it and bringing it to her lips. "Please bring Edward Elric into my office."
"Are you the only doctor here?" Mustang asked monotone. He wasn't particularly interested, just trying to pass time.
"I'm the head doctor here," Doctor Warren answered. "Plus when I page someone, my name comes up on the other pagers."
Suddenly the door opened and Edward was brought in by a nurse.
"Ed," Hughes said with a smile, bringing the boy into his arms for a hug. The teenager weakly hugged him back. "How've you been doing?"
"I just want to leave here," Edward said quietly. "I don't want to…to get better around here with these strangers. I want to be with the people I know." Ed knew Hughes wanted him to be around his friends and family. He knew it; and he was using it to his advantage.
"Well, we're going to get you out of here," Hughes said.
"Not so fast," Mustang interjected. "Edward."
"Mustang," the boy responded.
"Tell me; are you really better? The doctor, here, informed us that you could be faking this whole thing just to get out of here and go back to what you were doing," Mustang said.
"Do I look like I'm faking it?" Ed asked. "I have a serious problem and I just want to get better with everyone else. I have Bulimia, Mustang!" The words were painful for Edward to hear coming from his own lips.
The colonel hesitated.
"Get us the AMA papers," Mustang ordered the doctor, who took them out of a drawer in her desk. She handed the papers and a pen to Mustang, who was quick to sign them. "Let's get out of here."
"I'm so glad you're coming home, Ed," Hughes said as he walked the teenager out of the hospital.
"How did you like dinner?" Gracia asked when she was collecting the empty dishes from the table, preparing to wash them before bed. Ed knew that while she was talking to everyone, the question was aimed directly at him. Of course Hughes wouldn't have hidden anything from Gracia.
"It was great," Hughes said, turning to Edward with a grin. "What did you think, Ed?"
"I really liked it," Edward said politely. There would be no way that he would ever admit the immense guilt that he felt with each bite. The urge to get rid of it; do whatever he could to empty his stomach once again. "I'm feeling real tired, is it all right if I hit the hay?"
"Sure," Hughes said. Ed stood from the table, knowing all eyes were on him as he walked up the stairs and into his bedroom. Hughes then turned to Alphonse when the door was shut. "I want you to guard the bathroom. I know he said he's better, but it's best that we be here if he tries to do anything."
"Of course, Mr. Hughes," Alphonse said, standing from the table as well and making his way to the bathroom, sitting outside of it and waiting for his brother who may or may not attempt to vomit.
The others went to bed and there was still no sign of Edward getting up to empty his food.
Alphonse could only wonder when this had all happened. Ed always used to be a glutton for food, and he was always the bigger eater out of them two. Alphonse would pick at his food when he was younger, and Edward would encourage him to eat it. Al could even distinctly remember sneaking food into his armor for later to give to Ed.
And that's when Alphonse was beginning to realize that this was a problem that spread over years. When Ed was in the hospital, he had done a bit of reading, and knew well enough that Bulimics would hide their food and eat large quantities before vomiting it.
This wasn't just a new problem.
This had been happening for years.
Edward grabbed stick gum he had hidden in his dresser drawer and begun to chew it to clear up his breath.
He then slid the Tupperware full of vomit underneath his bed.
He would take care of it later.
So today is the anniversary of my grandmother's death...so I needed to distract myself and get some writing done. Enjoy :)