I have neutral news, good news, and bad news.
The neutral news is that this is not the last chapter, but the next chapter definitely will be.
The good news is that the "tumors" turned out to be just bubbles of scar tissue, so my cousin is still cancer free! (I guess the curse was good for something after all.)
The bad news is that my sister's cat has a new lump, but we don't know if it's cancer or not. We're hoping it's just swollen scar tissue and that's why there are mast cells (a type of immune cell) in it, but if it is mast cell cancer, hopefully just removing the lump will be enough since it's the only one and it's just under her skin. We'll just have to wait and see.
I was going to write the second chapter of my Ace Attorney story, but it's Whumptober and I want to finish this story so I can do this year's Whumptober story before it's over.
Edward's throat hurt.
He swallowed, feeling and hearing swollen cartilage crackle, and tried to remember what had woken him in the first place. Something was different. He wasn't quite sure what it was. His stomach still hurt, but the hurting was smaller somehow, quiet and sleepy, like a migraine fading into a simple headache. His head felt clearer, a fact that told him everything he needed to know about what was going on and where he was, though he couldn't quite remember why. He had the distinct memory that something horrible had happened and that he did not want to remember it, but if he didn't remember it, then he wouldn't know what was different or why it was so important. He fought with himself for a time, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to remember what exactly had happened. He swallowed again and he realized what the difference was.
He was thirsty.
His mouth was dry and he did not like that it was dry and he wanted to do something about it: three things he had been too preoccupied with other things to notice or consider. Out of habit, he tried to sit up and ask his brother to bring him a glass of water.
"Hgsdfa."
Someone helped him sit up the rest of the way when he was stalled by coughing. He sucked in a breath and swallowed hard, trying to ignore the crunching sound that echoed through his head.
"Do you wanna try that again, Fullmetal?"
Edward opened his eyes, recognizing the voice, and stared at the colonel in half-shock, half-horror, then scrunched his face into a scowl and slapped the man's hands away.
"Sc'off." Ed winced and instinctively reached for his throat with his right hand, then remembered that he didn't have a right hand. In fact, he was starting to remember a lot of things, the most recent ones being things he'd rather forget. The memories were fuzzy and confusing, but they were there nonetheless.
Roy raised a brow, unimpressed. "What was that? You'll have to speak up, pipsqueak."
Edward growled viciously and started coughing again.
"That's enough, sir."
Mustang frowned unhappily in the direction of the lieutenant but relented, stepping away from the bed. Ed heard the click of shoes and then Hawkeye was there, brushing his sticky hair out of his face and studying his eyes as if looking for something in particular. Edward didn't know why he let her do this.
"Hello, Edward. How are you feeling?"
Ed thought about how he was supposed to answer that question and instead pointed at his Adam's apple to remind her. She smiled sympathetically.
"Doctor Sharp said you'll have a sore throat for awhile. He said cold drinks would help."
Edward nodded and winced again. The entire inside of his neck felt stiff. Riza understood what he could not say.
"Sir, could you -"
Mustang had already grabbed one of the many cups of water standing by on the nearby table. The ice had long since melted and it was most likely at room temperature by now. Edward did not care. As soon as Hawkeye offered him the cup after Roy had handed it to her, Ed snatched it out of her hands and swallowed half of its contents in a single gulp.
Then he had to stop and debate on what to do next.
His body seemed to have forgotten how to drink. His throat refused to let the water pass through to his stomach, which was not sure that it wanted anything in it anyway and was considering returning the offering to the outside world. Ed gargled for a second, trying to figure out whether or not he was choking, until Mustang gave him a hearty thump on between his shoulder blades and his throat opened. His stomach did a bizarre dance routine, sloshing the water as if trying to discern what it was and what it was for, tried to reject it, changed its mind, and finally settled with a passive aggressive rumble.
Edward took a badly needed breath and realized Mustang was staring at him with dread and Hawkeye was watching him with concern. He coughed, clearing the remaining water from his esophagus, swallowed, and took a slower, smaller sip. Swallowing hurt, but having some wetness to lubricate his insides was worth it. Without the suffocating thirst sticking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Ed was able to turn his attention elsewhere - namely, the fact that he was currently the center of attention of everyone in the room, save the one person who's attention he actually wanted.
"Wh-where's Al?"
The words were little more than a whisper and the roughness to it made Mustang cringe (Edward made a mental note to talk as much as possible around the colonel, no matter how much it hurt, that delicious expression was simply too enjoyable). "He got restless so we sent him to check on the Cassaros. The lieutenant was worried his pacing would wake you, but you and I know you could sleep through a typhoon."
Riza cast him a frown that he pointedly ignored.
"What's a typhoon?"
Roy resisted the urge to smile at the tenacious curiosity that always served as a reminder that Edward was still a child, though he and Mustang constantly tried to shake off his youth like an old coat.
"It's a storm that forms over the ocean and comes inland. I've been told the winds and rain can have devastating effects on towns and cities."
Edward tilted his head, digesting this new bit of information. Edward had never seen the ocean - Amestris was landlocked - and it had never occurred to him that weather existed where there were no people to witness it.
"Does it have lightning and thunder like a regular storm?"
"I would imagine so. I've never seen one myself, so I don't know."
"Al will know," Edward said with a confidence that made Roy's brows rise. Ed took another sip of water, humming at the discomfort of his working throat.
They said little after that, the grownups wanting to let Edward drink his water and rest his voice and Ed not being able to think of anything meaningful enough to say, despite his earlier promise to himself. He knew it was because he was still coming out of whatever medication he had been given - the line was still in his arm, but something was missing, he could feel it the same way he could feel the simmering burning in his belly - and that it would take some time for his brain to wake up enough for him to do much more than drink and blink sleepily.
He found a fresh burst of energy when the door opened and Al came in, Doctor Scott in tow.
"Al!"
"Brother!"
Edward moved as if to stand up but Alphonse reached him first, pressing him back onto the bed with his gauntlets on his shoulders.
"How are you, Brother?"
"Does a typhoon have thunder and lightning?"
Alphonse paused and Roy thought it was out of confusion for the randomness of the question, then realized that Al had just been considering his answer when he said just as flippantly, "Yes, it does, and it's a lot more powerful than other storms because of the extra pressure and charge in the air."
Edward nodded as seriously as if Al had just proposed a great philosophical theory. Riza smiled lovingly. Mustang felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.
Doctor Scott stepped in front of the bed and brought his fingers beneath Ed's chin, lifting his head to study his face and eyes. He removed a thermometer from his pocket and proffered it like the straw of an ice cream soda. Ed frowned disapprovingly but took the glass tube in his mouth obediently.
"Your fever's lowered, but it's not completely gone. It's at a healthy level, as healthy as a fever can be," Scott said after reading the mercury. "We'll keep you on antibiotics, fluids, and painkillers until it goes down all the way. After that, you'll have to keep taking antibiotic pills for a few days just to be safe."
Edward didn't seem to have much of an opinion on this. He looked the doctor up and down, like he was considering starting a fight with him.
"What happened? Like, why am I here?"
Alphonse's shoulders stiffened in sudden concern.
"You don't remember, Brother? You were on a mission and it went a little wrong. But you're okay now."
Roy scoffed. "A little wrong?! Fullmetal, you needed experimental surgery to fix the stunt you pulled."
Edward stared at him, looking affronted, then his eyes turned inward and he seemed to search his brain for the answers to his own questions. Roy saw the moment he found them.
"Wait… we were in… and they were…"
His one arm pulled his shirt down, an easy feat without a second arm to hold it in place, and stared at the jagged line of stitches along his ribs. He looked back up at Roy, his face switching between mortified and regretful. Mustang understood the first expression. The second was more confusing.
"You're lucky to be alive, Fullmetal. But then again, near death experiences are like summer picnics to you."
Edward turned to his brother, seeing the worried pinch of his body, and looked at his knees, his face falling.
"I… I'm sorry."
This was not the reaction Roy was expecting.
"Whatever for, Edward?" Riza asked the question for him.
Edward's face crumpled slightly.
"I… I was stupid. I just thought… I guess, maybe… I didn't think -"
"You were stupid and you certainly didn't think."
Mustang cut him off before he could continue, and Edward's face crumpled further.
"But you didn't have time to do either. I'm impressed you were able to do what you did. Not many men - or women," he added when he felt the lieutenant's shoe on his toe, "would have had the courage or control to do what you did. If you hadn't, a lot of innocent people would have gotten hurt."
Edward hadn't moved when the praise came, as if he was afraid that Roy's words were just hallucinations produced by the residual sedatives in his blood. When Mustang paused, Ed looked up at him, his eyes wary. Alphonse placed a comforting gauntlet on his shoulder.
"What… but, I -"
"Who knows where those buttons would have ended up, Brother. Drachma, Creta, maybe even Xing. And if any of those countries decided to turn them into weapons… armies of alchemists that don't need to use transmutation circles."
Armies of Fullmetals. Armies of Mustangs.
Roy's gloves seemed to squirm in his pocket.
It wasn't uncommon for alchemists, especially State Alchemists, to carry permanent transmutation circles with them - Mustang's gloves, the Strong Arm Alchemist's knuckle rings - but it took years to perfect such circles. Permanent circles couldn't be changed, so they could only perform one or two transmutations. The buttons, with each one having its own rune, could be combined to make an infinite number of different circles.
An amateur alchemist would probably get themselves killed.
A skilled one…
"The investigation is still ongoing, but if I have anything to say and I certainly do, you are in the opposite of trouble," Roy said, distracting himself from his own thoughts. "Oh, and your medical leave has been extended."
Edward had been looking at Roy with an expression he couldn't read. At the mention of medical leave, Edward pursed his lips as if he tasted something foul. Roy knew Ed hated hospitals and he couldn't really blame the boy. Edward sighed and met Roy's eyes with his own.
"Does it have to be here?"
"For the next two days, yes," Riza said, and Edward's face tightened further. "The doctors want to keep you near in case the infection gets worse. After that, you can finish recovering in the dorms or elsewhere."
"We could go home, Brother. You need to get your automail fixed, anyway." Alphonse had meant to cheer Edward up, but Ed huffed unhappily.
"Yeah, and when she sees what happened, she'll kill me."
"I don't know about that, Brother."
Edward looked at his brother sidelong, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"What do you - what did you do?"
"Oh, nothing much. Don't worry about it, Brother. Stop talking. You sound awful."
Ed tried to growl, choked, and took a drink of water.
XXX
He woke up to the sound of shouting and running feet.
Someone was yelling, a woman, judging by the voice, and she sounded angry. For a terrible moment, Edward wondered if Teacher had found him and come to finish what the button started. The shouting got louder, more voices joining the woman's, and the footsteps shifted from a distant clomping to a nearby clacking. Edward looked around the room and found himself alone. He had been craving solitude when he'd fallen asleep, the energy draining out of him like the medication dripping from the bag as he'd leaned into the pillows and felt soft hands, probably the lieutenant's, pull a blanket over him. Now, he wished Alphonse or even Mustang was here to keep the impending visitors away.
Edward was expecting an intimidating woman, maybe somewhere between Teacher's volcanic temper and Hawkeye's deadly focus. He was not expecting the tiny lady in a simple but fancy-looking dress and fur coat who threw the door open with the strength of three men.
He and the woman stared at each other, the woman blinking owlishly and looking oddly familiar, Edward meeting her gaze with his tangled-haired head tilted in puzzlement.
Then the woman crossed the room and pressed Edward's face into the fur of her coat.
"You're alive."
Edward thought about making a comment about the novelty of this observation, but that would require speaking and his throat, though less sore, was still hurting.
"Please, miss, he needs his rest and - oh, dear."
Edward heard the familiar clanking that heralded the arrival of his brother. He tried to turn his head to look at Al, but the stranger insisted on keeping him against her. She was holding him and shaking as if Edward was a son she hadn't seen in years.
"Hello, Brother. This is Misses Cassaro. She's Jerome and Rhea's mom. Apparently, the military police sent a telegram to Aerugo asking for her to come collect her kids and… well…"
Edward wasn't sure how to respond.
The last time he'd been held like this was when his mother had been terrified that a sudden fever he had sprung in the middle of the night would kill him. He had been four and the memory was no hazy and distant, but it was one of the clearer memories he had of her and Ed was reluctant to pull away from the embrace that helped him remember.
"No fair, Fullmetal. You know I have dibs on the most beautiful woman in the room."
"She's married, Colonel," Alphonse reminded him with a hint of disapproval.
"Not for much longer, judging by the colorful words she had with her loving husband."
Edward pulled away from Leonie, not sure he wanted the colonel to see him like this, then remembered that if Mustang was ever going to blackmail him, he already had much better ammo than this. He only pulled away enough to see his brother's empty sockets studying Mustang with a disdainful air while Roy stood to the side with a raised brow and crooked smile.
"Apparently the good lady was told that her husband had roped their children into committing abduction and grievous injury… to a child. Poor Misses Cassaro was certain you'd been murdered."
Edward knew Roy wanted him to bristle at the insinuation that he was a child but he currently couldn't bring himself to care. Misses Cassaro was warm and he was still so tired. Roy frowned when his prodding didn't earn him the rise he had wanted and Ed closed his eyes and leaned further into the soft fur and smell of perfume.
"I will pay for any expenses my children and their father," she spat the word like it tasted bad, "have accrued. My in-laws have agreed to increase our family's funding on the condition that Darius receives the harshest punishment and that he never be allowed to contact us or them ever again."
Edward heard Alphonse's armor creak as he started in horror.
"But… but he's their son!"
"He is. He's also made his choice. Just because he's their child doesn't mean they have to watch him destroy himself. Darius has made his standing clear and so have they."
Alphonse made a terrible sound, one that made Edward pull his remaining hand out from beneath the crushing hug he was still trapped in and reach for him. Ed felt the rough leather of his brother's gloves cover his palm.
XXX
"With diplomacy being what it is, my children's grandparents have decided to invest in other areas. They haven't had much luck, but when I mentioned Rhea's and Jerome's talents, they seemed to have an idea. It seems Darius had the same thought, but used it for very different purposes."
Roy rubbed his chin with the thumb of his hand holding his head.
"It's illegal to transmute gold in Amestris… but I don't believe there's such a law in Aerugo and I know there's no law against buying transmuted gold from outside the country."
"You can't make gold from nothing, though. You'd need something with gold already inside it and pull it out," Alphonse said thoughtfully. Then he rubbed his fingers together as if snapping, if he had been capable of doing so with leather instead of skin. "But… it's a base element. It's found in all sort of things. You could buy soil, like the kind they get from the bottoms of rivers for farming, and the culm from mines, and pull gold out of that. Not a lot, so you'd need a lot of soil and a lot of culm to get much of anything, but you could do it."
Leonie hummed and stroked Edward's hair with a hand. Ed had gone back to asleep and was using her as a pillow. He was snoring softly and may have been drooling on her coat.
"Well, I was thinking more along the lines of specially made buttons that could be made cheaply and sold exorbitantly, but after this, I think your idea is preferable."
"I think Rhea could do that. It might take some studying and designing, but I think it's possible."
Leonie's head shot up as if Alphonse had just given her directions to the fountain of youth.
"Would you teach her? I'll pay you. Money is no object. I'll borrow what I have to and pay it back as soon as the investment… comes… what's so funny?"
Al was laughing, embarrassedly and stiflingly, but still laughing, a feat that Roy found more disturbing than endearing considering that Al had no lungs.
"You already taught her, didn't you?" Roy said, pretending to be exasperated.
"What else were we supposed to do while Brother was sleeping? She asked me if it was possible to make precious metals with alchemy so I showed her how. She said she would make sure the first of the profits went to Brother, but I know he would never take them. Jerome had a really good idea, though. He suggested they use the money to start his own automail shop."
Leonie started so violently that Ed moaned in protest and pawed at the fur coat with his hand.
"I know he was thinking about architecture. I mean, that's wonderful, but I want him to do what he loves, not what the market loves."
"He had fun fixing up Brother's arm so he says he wants to give it a try. Besides, it'll give him a good excuse to try out his architecture skills if he builds it himself."
Leonie's face lit up with happiness that quickly dimmed when she remembered.
"But they won't be going to school. They're going to trial."
"Yes, they are, along with your Drachman friend," said Mustang, his voice devoid of empathy.
Leonie's face fell further when she realized that whatever awaited her children would be nothing compared to what would be done to Zharkov.
"And as a victim and a superior officer, I will put in a good word for all three and request their punishments be given in the form of community service."
Leonie looked confused and nervously patted Edward's neck.
"So… they'll be sent to a work camp."
Roy had the gall to look offended.
"What?! No!"
This oddly seemed to make Leonie even more upset.
"But… what else -"
"They'll be working for me. Or at least, I'll be giving them jobs to do. It wouldn't be hard to get the court to place a monetary value on the damages and even less hard that they be made to work for free until they pay off their debt. There's always a need for stitching and repairs in the military, and if Rhea's open to the idea, maybe she could try her hand at the State Alchemist exam."
"What about Zharkov?"
There was no hesitation in her question, so little that Mustang was surprised by the woman's affection for a man who was not her husband. He wondered if that would change with the impending divorce.
"I've got 'im handled."
Roy did not know when Doctor Sharp arrived but there he was, leaning against the wall as if he had been there the whole time.
"Man decided to thank my wife for the medovik with some of the best raf we've ever had. I told 'im that if 'e didn't wanna tinker on guns, 'e could try tinkerin' in the cafe."
Roy had seen many things that made him recoil. The mental image of Zharkov in an apron and chef's hat was one of them. He wasn't sure he wanted to put anything made by the person who tried to rip open Fullmetal's rib cage into his mouth.
"Um…"
"Don' worry, the wife's got 'im, but if need be, I'm always a Zo away."
Mustang eyes narrowed.
"Right. Your horse."
Sharp met his disbelieving stare with a cheeky grin.
"Yes. Quite a beast, 'e is."
"Blue potatoes," Edward sighed into warm fur.
XXX
"Come on, Brother. Just try it."
Edward sighed and turned his head away. His stomach didn't really hurt anymore, but there was still a stab of sharp pain in his middle and he wasn't hungry, anyway. Rhea put the spoon back into the bowl of broth.
"Alphonse, maybe we should wait until his appetite's back. I'm not sure we should make him eat if he's not hungry."
"Doctor Scott said that he needs to eat something to stop being so droopy and the sooner he stops being droopy, the sooner he can leave. You want to leave the hospital, right, Brother?"
"Mm." Edward closed his eyes and laid his head on the pillow. He wasn't sleepy, but he didn't have the energy to stay awake.
"Maybe he needs more time to heal. He'll eat when he's feeling better."
"What if he doesn't feel better until he eats?"
"Well, if the doctor wants him to eat, maybe we should ask him what we should do if he won't."
Alphonse, having fallen into the pattern, made to make a retort, realized that Rhea was trying to be reasonable rather than argumentative, and pulled back.
"That's… a good idea."
Rhea pulled the bell pull for the nurse. Considering this, they were understandably surprised when the colonel and the lieutenant were the first to arrive.
"Oh… hello, colonel. Hello, lieutenant."
"I was told that you called for a nurse. Is he all right?"
"He's fine. He's refusing to eat, though," Rhea said, still holding the bowl of now cooled broth. Edward sighed disinterestedly.
Mustang cocked his head, his expression quizzical.
"Is that all? Well, in that case, give him to me. I'll get him to open up."
Riza cast him a doubtful look but made no move to stop him.
"Remember to be gentle, sir."
Roy rolled his eyes, which earned him a glare that had him breaking eye contact rather quickly, took the offered bowl from Rhea and sat in the chair she vacated for him.
"All right, Fullmetal, enough with the limp noodle act. Sit up and say 'aah.'"
Edward lifted his head just enough to stick out his tongue, then nuzzled back into the pillow.
"Very mature. Come on, up and at 'em."
He handed the bowl back to Rhea so he could shove his hands under Ed's arms and lift him upright - a feat that was much easier to accomplish without the automail. Edward slouched forward, leaning like he was thinking about falling off the bed and face-planting on the floor. Retrieving the bowl, he took the spoon and brought it to Ed's mouth.
Ed turned away.
Roy turned with him.
Ed turned again.
So did Roy.
Ed curled into a ball with his head buried in his knees.
Roy gave the bowl back to Rhea so he could uncurl Edward, retrieved it, and tried again.
Ed turned away again.
Roy huffed.
"Fullmetal, this is not cute."
"Yer n't cute."
Roy rolled his eyes for the second time in an hour.
"Sir, maybe -"
"I've got this, Lieutenant. I've seen Hughes do this with Elicia more times than I can count."
"This" turned out to be bringing the spoon to Ed's face in a zig-zag path while making train noises.
"Choo choo, Fullmetal, the train's pulling into the station! All aboard!"
There was an awkward silence that was broken by Alphonse laughing, Rhea giggling, and Riza rolling her own eyes into the back of her head. Edward stared at the colonel like the man had just announced that he was actually a bunch of squirrels controlling a human-shaped puppet. In fact, that might have been preferable.
"What the f - bleh!"
Before Ed could finish the swear, Mustang jabbed the spoon into his half-open mouth and left it there. Alphonse's laughing strengthened into near howling and Hawkeye barked an indignant, "Sir, gentle, please!"
Ed yanked the spoon from between his teeth and tossed it across the room with energy fueled by mortification, where it bounced off the wall and clattered onto the floor. The damage was already done, though, and to Edward's expanding embarrassment, the broth was pretty good.
"The Drachman who tried to butcher you made it. Who knew such a burly metalsmith could be such a good cook," Roy said, reading Ed's conflicted expression. "Apparently, he' accepted a position building food appliances for military headquarters so we can all have fancy coffee and something called borscht - at least until he pays off the fines the court will give him for the stunt he and the Cassaros pulled."
Edward was only half-listening. His other half was watching the broth in the bowl with a hunger he was only now realizing he had.
Riza noticed and stepped forward and took the bowl from the colonel who was too busy celebrating his victory to notice and helped Edward bring the bowl to his mouth so he could slurp the broth in the absence of the spoon. The burst of energy had left his his hands precariously shaky.
When Scott came into the room, it was to the sight of the lieutenant taking an empty bowl a suddenly much more active Edward who was licking broth from his lips and following the bowl as if he thought it might magically refill.
"I see someone's feeling better -"
"More?" Edward greeted him, gesturing with his eyes at Hawkeye, who smiled. Roy crossed his arms and puffed out his chest, waiting for the praise he rightly deserved, did not receive, then turned up his nose and turned away from his ungrateful benefactors.
Scott made a show of checking the medicine drip and then Ed's temperature, a process that involved quite a bit of making sure Ed didn't accidentally bite down on the glass out of hungry reflex.
"You're doing a lot better from yesterday, but you're still weak. Give one more day, like Doctor Kingston advised, and you can spend the rest of the week at home."
"Yes, but more?"
"He has to be feeling better if all he can think about is food," Alphonse commented.
Scott nodded his agreement at Al and then nodded confirmation to Ed.
"Yes. You can have some more."
*opens Skyrim chest*
Let's see here, I got rabies, I got toxic shock syndrome, I got fluff, I got this weird historical nonsense that has something to do with public punishment…
Oh, God.
I think I'm a psychopath.
Anyway, what sounds good to y'all? Or do y'all got any ideas? I've been thinking about opening a Tumblr or Discord for story suggestions but I'm old so it might take me a while to figure that out.
