Edward sat back in the low-set leather chair. He didn't like that he had to look up at Roy and Riza from so far down. They were standing in front of him side by side like a wall out of nervousness, and he would be too if he'd been able to stand. He fidgeted around a little in the seat, because it felt more like a rock prison now than a chair. They stared at him in uncomfortable silence.
Riza looked downtrodden and thoughtful, whereas as Roy just looked disgusted. Edward knew that all of it was directed toward himself. He knew that he was weak and useless and only caused them more problems. But right now, he wasn't sure if they should be yelling at him or he should be yelling at them, because neither was happening and either was all too likely to.
He waited for them to continue, but it looked like Riza was going to cry. He knew she never would, but the fact that she looked like it might be a possibility was comparable to a normal person sobbing on the floor. It was bad.
They hadn't told him too much, but what they had left him reeling. He could not go to Resembool. He barely remembered what it was, and it hurt with a sharp stinging pain to try to remember, but what he could gather about it only brought pain and sickening sorrow. He did not like the idea of Resembool.
Even more so, he did not think it was possible, let alone want to, go outside the house again. It was a failure. He was a failure. He got stuck on that singular thought for a while. Failure. Failure. He knew that he was blanking out, just as well as he knew that he couldn't feel much emotion right now because he was in shock. He was aware of this, but he didn't like accepting it.
Roy and Riza still stood in front of him. They were waiting for a response now. He didn't know what he could give.
"So. So, that's… I… Can't." The last word was muffled behind the hand he'd drawn to his face. It was too hard to admit defeat to them, these brave people. He wondered again why they let him live here.
"What was that, Edward?"
"I-I can't. I can't go."
One of them sighed, but he couldn't tell who it was because his eyes were closed now. He didn't remember closing them, but it had probably been on a reflex. There was a strange burning behind is eyes that gave him a bad feeling. They couldn't see whatever it was.
Tears. He was on the verge of tears? Why?
He felt like it had everything to do with that place, Resembool.
"He has to go…"
"What can we do about it? He's stuck…"
They were talking about him. He tried to open his eyes, but found that he couldn't. That was strange.
"We can- we can take him overnight. If it's right after the medication…"
"We'll leave Isaac with Gracia…"
They continued to finalize plans, but Edward was falling fast. The voices receded, only to be replaced by louder ones, ones he didn't recognize but felt he should. They became a cacophony, raging within his skull. A scream. Sobbing. Alphonse.
His eyes shot open. Roy and Riza were still there, he was still in the seat. Everything was the same. They didn't seem to notice his sudden burst into consciousness.
He watched the talk for a while, but he didn't really grasp what they were saying. Only a word here or there actually came through, but he dismissed it automatically. It just hit him. He would have to leave the house.
"What are you thinking?!"
The adults looked down to him in shock. He couldn't tell if it was because he was awake or because he was yelling. Probably both.
"What kind of conditions could there be for this? Why… Why do this now?!"
"Edward, please,"
"No, I just, I don't want to-"
"Don't want to what?" Roy cut him off strictly, the same way he would have if he were still his Colonel. Edward's eyes widened before narrowing defiantly. His eyebrows lowered and he frowned even more so than he already had been.
In truth, he was terrified. As much as that fact sickened him, it was true.
"I don't want you to do this to me! I don't want to be overdosed just to ride a stupid train or even leave the stupid house! I don't want you to look at me like I'm lost, I don't want you to have to help me all the time… And I don't want to go to Resembool!" He screamed at the end and his voice cracked, to which he flinched irrevocably. He slumped down again in the chair and looked at his clenched fists. As if he could fight.
"Edward…"
"No, no, I'm done, really. Please, just… leave. I can't even do that much on my own anymore so I have to ask you to go instead. Isn't that just pathetic?" He finished it off with a chuckle and a grim smile.
He was horrified to find that liquid was running down his face. Not much, but enough to make his little tantrum all the more humiliating. A hand reached down to brush the fluid away, but he turned his head and recoiled from it. The hand dropped in defeat.
He refused to look up at them, and eventually they left. He held still as a statue until he was sure that they were gone. They went away in silence, but he could tell that they'd had a nonverbal argument before deciding to leave him. It looked like someone won out. The room was still. When he was perfectly alone, he lifted an arm to his face and wiped the tears away furiously. He was being such a baby about this. All they wanted to do was take him out of the house, get his leg fixed…
The leg that he broke. It was still his fault, and even then he couldn't go out. They didn't ask any more than that of him, that he go outside for once. Go to that place, Resembool. He couldn't let go of that name, Resembool. There were lots of things that he couldn't remember, but that one seemed really important. He put his head into his hands, running both flesh and manufactured fingers through his hair.
It was hopeless trying to remember anything. When he first started caring about the memories, about two years ago, he'd tried to reach into them. He would chase a thought until he passed out or threw up, but it never got him anywhere. It was doubtful that he would ever remember everything, the doctor said. Doctors. He shuddered. That was one thing he didn't miss about the outside world.
Edward shook his head and sighed, for no one to hear but himself. How did he get to be so weak? He was just a burden, something that needed taking care of. He wasn't able to leave.
He was strong, a while ago. He used to be brave and careless and free… He remembered those things. He missed it sorely.
Maybe, maybe he could be that way again. He just had to work on it. Yeah, he could at least try to work through his fears. He owed that much to Mustang and Hawkeye. He decided then, sitting up straighter with a grim determination that he would go to Resembool. No matter what it took from him.
He was still worthless, but he could do what they wanted. From now on, he would do whatever they needed him to.
IEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIE
Riza looked unsteadily at Roy. They were in their room, Riza on the edge of the bed and Roy pacing lightly in short circles in front of her. She caught his gaze and he sighed in return.
"Why is he like this?"
He gave no response at first, so she continued.
"Hating himself, acting so spiteful. Why?"
She sounded anxious and slightly hurt. Roy knew that she probably worried that they were doing something wrong. They were.
"It's because of the medication."
"The pills? How long has he been-"
"I raised the dosage as of last night, doctor's request. It messes with the brain's chemicals, so side effects like this were… not predictable, but to be expected."
She looked disgusted and tired.
"It had to be done. He was getting worse, the flashbacks…" He trailed off. They both knew that they had been getting worse lately.
He turned away from her.
"He has to be on it this heavily, at least until the automail is done. We can figure something else out from there, but for now…"
He broke off into silence. He was filled with his doubts about this, and tried to reign them all in. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Riza there.
"I understand. Until the automail is done."
"Agreed."
-philos