Chapter 9

Faith and Love

Alphonse

Edward was dying.

It was impossible to comprehend the flood of feeling washing over him as he sat, blinking away the tears spilling down his cheeks.

They were cursed, it had to be; ever since they performed forbidden Alchemy on their mother, God had condemned them. Happiness was always just out of their reach, and Alphonse wondered if in the end he'd ever find it.

He felt helpless, and lost. All those years fighting to find his brother seemed to be spent in vain now. It was unfair. God was so cruel to them. When would the punishment stop? When Edward's soul was dragged into the bowels of hell? The boy turned away and closed his eyes unable to watch his brother.

How could he be so detached about it? Couldn't Edward at least attempt to comfort his pain? Alphonse heaved a trembling breath. Yet all Edward could do was drive himself to study and search though those blasted books like there was nothing wrong.

Alphonse dragged in a long sob, and wrapped his arms about himself. His hope was faltering. With Edward he could do anything, but if Edward died, where would he be?

"What are you crying for, Al?" Edward asked. He shoved the Oncology book in front of Alphonse. "I'm not going to die. We'll find a cure for me. After all, we're Alchemists."

"In a world where Alchemy doesn't work." Alphonse replied blandly. He stupidly stared at the book. Tears dripped off his nose and on to the binding. "Edward…"

Ignoring him, Edward rolled up a sleeve and showed Al his arm. It was bruised in several places. "I bruise easy. Do you remember when mother was ill? Did she bruise like this?"

Bruising, Alphonse tried to think. Their mother kept her illness a secret, yet he seemed to remember her bruising easily. He nodded, wondering why Edward was asking the question. "We are not doctors, Edward."

"No, we are not." Edward turned a page. "But these books were written by doctors. And with our knowledge of Chemistry in relation to Alchemy and biology, we might figure out something they didn't. I just need a diagnosis."

It sounded promising, but he had been living with the hope of Edward's promises since Kaiser captured them. Alphonse opened his book, and rubbed the tears blurring his vision away with his shirt-sleeve. " Mother was tired all the time and got sick easily." Alphonse sniffled. "You have similar symptoms, don't you?"

Edward nodded. "I have nausea, I ache, thing is I'm not sure if its because of this damned cold." He wiped his brow with a gloved hand.

"Than why don't you get in bed, and let Alphonse and I help." It was Noa.

Alphonse hadn't heard her enter the room, but he wasn't surprised. He lifted his head. She closed the door quietly behind her, and made her way over to Edward. With a stern look, she took the book Edward had been reading and closed it. "You are only making it worse, by driving yourself."

Edward stood, annoyance wrinkling his brow. "Damn it, Noa!" He grabbed for the book, but the motion was too much. For a moment his eyes fluttered and rolled and he swayed.

A fit of panic swept Alphonse as he steadied his brother. Was it a cold? Or was it this phantom disease Noa predicted he'd die from? "Noa, help me get him into his bed!"

The woman quickly took his side, and together they carried Edward to his bed. The young man's head rolled, golden eyes half lidded and filled with exhaustion. "Al, we can't stop… I have to…"

"Rely on me." Alphonse said firmly. He undressed Edward and laid him down. Noa pulled the blankets around the youth, and tucked a pillow behind Edward's head.

Helpless, Edward tried to sit up, but Alphonse's hand gently pressed him back into the mattress. "You forget, Brother. I too looked into the Gateway of Alchemy. I was trapped there between eternity and hell for four years." The boy heaved a breath, trying to force away images of agony and violation. His body endured horrors he did not wish to imagine. A surge of fear caused him to tremble. "There was a reason I forgot what happened, brother. It was horrible, but I also I saw what you saw, space, time, matter itself. I know Alchemy as intimately as you do. I can help."

Edward bit his lip, loss and anguish reflecting in his dull eyes. "Al… Please, let me protect you…"

"You can't protect me, Brother." Al said firmly. He didn't blame Edward. The older boy was dedicated to his welfare and knew no other way. "I lost my innocence a long time ago. I just learned how to balance the child and hurt so I can grasp happiness when I see it." He touched his brother's pale hand. And squeezed it tenderly. "Let me protect you now."

Edward pressed his head into the pillow, eyes rolling shut. "Then find out what is wrong with me, Al. We'll find a cure together."

Alphonse considered his brother's words. Edward's pride was so strong, he'd never entirely let go, but it was a start. He looked over to Noa, feeling the weight of responsibility settle into his heart. "Take care of him, Noa."

The woman nodded.

Feeling a wash of relief, Alphonse Elric crossed the room to the medical journals. He sat down on the couch, then flipped open a book and began to read.

"God Damn it Al!" Edward shouted, glaring at his younger brother. He lay, back against pillows, blankets pulled around him in bed. He was shaky, and unable to avoid the younger boy as he took his hand and opened his middle finger.

The needle in the boy's hand glinted in the flickering gaslight. Somehow, Edward knew it would come to this; needles, pain and getting up the guts to face it all. He hated needles and had been hoping he'd be the one to do the blood test. But his hands trembled and his fever kept him put in bed. He barely had the strength to keep his eyes open.

Noa smiled as her hand closed about his fingers and held them still. "It is all right Edward, when Alphonse is finished, you can go back to sleep."

"Please Brother, keep still." Alphonse reminded, pressing the needle into the finger. His gaze shifted, concentration creasing his brow as he broke the skin. "I'm going to make a few slides."

There was a prick, and Edward exhaled, relieved it was over. He never liked pain, even if it was in the name of science. He didn't need it. He sighed, letting his brother squeeze his finger and smear three small glass plates. That hurt more than the prick. "Hey, hey, hey, what the hell, can't you be more careful?! THAT bloody well hurt!"

Noa giggled, smoothing his brow with a damp cloth and easing him back under his covers. "You must be feeling a little better today, Edward. You're irritable."

Edward blanched feeling his face warm. He wasn't that unpleasant was he? "I'm bored, two days in bed makes me fidgety." He folded his arms, watching his brother cross the room to the microscope they had put on Edward's desk. The kitten trotted faithfully behind him, and pawed at Alphonse's pant legs.

The boy prepared the slide and slipped it under the magnifier of the microscope and hunkered down over the apparatus and peered in.

Edward gritted his teeth, he hated the waste of time and was well aware the week was coming to a close. Kaiser would be expecting his report and results. They had lost close to three days researching his illness. With a heavy sigh, Edward rolled his head, focusing on Noa as she sat at his side, preparing a thermometer.

He was feeling a little better, and he suspected the fever was down, but he felt damned weak, and ached all over. To return to work was impossible, unless he did it from his bed.

If he could just stay awake long enough.

"Edward." Noa began, smiling at him kindly. He recalled how she remained at his side the entire time. "I can read your journals to you if you are worried about the Kaiser, I can also write."

Edward frowned. It was as if she read his mind. He let his eyes roll shut. The blackness was comforting. "I'm just worried I won't recover enough to do my work. Then Al will suffer."

She touched his cheek. "You're not very warm today. I think your fever is breaking. Perhaps tomorrow we can work on that report. Maybe Kaiser will understand if you explain you've been ill."

"He can't know." Edward snapped. "I can't have a doctor examine me." He opened his eyes, and studied the girl's dark features. She was weary with bags under her eyes. It appeared neither she or Al had slept since he had fallen ill. How could he let them worry so? With an effort, he struggled up, hands clumsily shoving the pillow beneath him under his back for support. "Hey, Al, what's taking so long?"

The boy shifted in his chair, and looked back to Edward. "I am counting your healthy cells. It seems you do have some abnormal cells and a low red cell count. But I want to make sure." He then flipped a page to the medical journal at his side.

"Abnormal cells?" Edward frowned. "How so? Premature? Do I have an acclimation of premature cells?"

"Let Al finish, Edward." Noa popped the thermometer in his mouth and lifted a finger when he went to object. "Keep it closed for five minuets." She scolded, pulling out his pocket watch and opening it. She checked the time. "You're only worrying yourself. "

Worrying himself? He was ready for anything, how could he be worrying himself? He opened his mouth when the thermometer nearly slipped from between his lips. Noa glared at him disapprovingly and lifted the watch. She'd have to take his readings all over again.

Damn. Edward stared at the woman, feeling his stomach drop. As always, she was right. He was more than worried. He was damned scared. Noa could read him all to well. In a way it was unfair. He has no ability to understand people, yet here she was, gifted in a way he could never comprehend. Pouting, Edward folded his arms, and waited.

He waited for his temperature to be taken. It was 100, down from 103, a good thing. He was recovering. With an impatient sigh, he slumped down into his bed, and hugged his blankets. He hated waiting.

Noa smiled at him, fingers pushing his matted blond hair from his eyes. "Why don't you sleep more, Edward. I think the rest is helping you."

It was helping him to waste time. Edward blew a puff of air, and watched his bangs flare out and trickle back into his eyes. "Hell, I've slept enough." He gritted his teeth and not saying a word, waited for Al to finish.

Perhaps he fell asleep for a short while, the world around him blurred away into a restless dreamscape that stretched and yawned before him. He was helplessly running, something dark following him, hungering for his soul.

The blackened amorphous shape reached out, amoebae like form mutated and grasped him with to thousands of hands when Al's soft voice shattered the darkness, drawing his mind back to the room.

Lazily, he cracked one eye open.

His brother and friend stood together near the microscope and Al whispered to the girl as she peered into the device. "You see, he is anemic, and his white blood cell count is low as well. He must have had this condition for some time, and was completely unaware of it. I'm worried Noa."

The gypsy girl looked up, long hair veiling over her cheek. "I have heard of the disease, but I'm not sure how they treat it."

What disease? Had Alphonse come up with a diagnosis? Edward focused, listening carefully.

Alphonse sighed. He was haggard and lost. Edward saw tears rimming his eyes. The boy closed the book and shook his head. "There isn't a definite cure. As far as I can tell, in most cases, it's terminal, but I've read they use Fowler's solution to help slow it down, even cure some. They're currently experimenting with bone marrow transplants in rats and mice, but that's radical, and relatively new in research. Nothing has been tried on humans."

Noa's shoulders slumped. "They use Fowlers solution for Everything, Alphonse. That's not very helpful." She held in a sob, arms wrapping about her slender form. "Oh dear God, poor Edward."

They were talking as if they had no hope. Edward's heart thudded heavily against his chest. It was unfair, why hadn't God forgiven him yet? He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm his racing mind. He wasn't dead yet. He was an alchemist for God's sake. He'd find a cure. "Fowlers solution." Edward pulled himself up on an elbow. "As I recall, Alfons resorted to it as his tuberculosis progressed. It did no good for him." He reached over to the bed stand and lifted his notebook. "I believe arsenic trioxide is in Fowlers, and I think it was Arsenic Trioxide the doctors wanted to treat mother with…"

Sniffling, Alphonse nodded. He picked up the medical book and held it tight to his chest. "I don't really remember what the doctor's said about mother, only that her disease could have been cured if she had treated it earlier. You have Leukemia, I'm not sure of the variety, but the samples I took shows definite signs of abnormality. Brother, according to my findings, you only have a few months to live, if that."

Nodding, Edward swiftly thumbed though his book, back to the beginning and his earliest notes on Alchemy. "It doesn't matter," he fingered the page, finding the disjointed scribbles of a distraught child. How long ago was it? 8 years, it felt like forever. He forced back the flood of memories, and directed his attention to the print.

His printing.

He was dying…

Edward swallowed the lump in his throat. He was terrified. How many times had he faced death in a battle? But it was different here. He was wasting away helplessly to only become components to someone in the world of Alchemy. "Damn it…. Damn it, I just can't die, Al. Not like mom, not like mom…." Tears spilled down his cheeks, and dribbled on to the paper. Ink smeared in the cool wet pool, bringing his attention to the bottom of the page. "Yes, yes, that's it. Arsenic trioxide. Its in the heavy metals group, Alchemist's often use it for creating remedies to treat a variety of diseases." He snapped the book shut, feeling a small hint of hope. "God Damn it! Al, at least there is something in this world like our own! I'm not ready to die yet!"

"We have Fowlers in the medicine cabinet." Alphonse said, his voice hitched. He turned to go into the bathroom.

Edward shook his head. "No Al, Fowlers isn't a guaranteed cure. I'll make my own remedy. Together, we can do the math based on my weight and devise a formula with what we know about poisons and medicines from our world, than I'll take that. God damn it, I not leaving this world without a fight!"