Chapter 3; Sooth

Bane; "Okay; you reviewers were so nice to me. I felt that I should return the favor, and so, here it is. It's probably not as long as it should be, but, hey! It's the next chapter!" Dangles in front of the reviewers' noses

A; "We know reviewing the reviewers' reviews can be boring, but that thing…what was it…? Oh yeah…'fun' worked for us last time. Wanna' try it again?"

Bane; "A lot of people said that it it was depressing. And that it is. I'm really sorry. But it said in the summary; dark thoughts, self-mutilation, mutilation wait! It didn't say this one; but it SHOULD have, language, and lemony& fluffy scenes. And besides, for anyone who has ever read EDXWIN fanfictions Burnt Rose in Particular, you'll know that even though it may be sad and rather heart-breaking at the beginning, it'll only get more action packed and ass kicking—er, I mean, only get better from there. And besides, It has to have a happy ending, right? 'Cause, it's Ed and Winry!"

A; "You know, we forgot to add a disclaimer."

Bane; trying to ignore A "Okay, we're back with Chapter 3."

A & Laura; cheers!

Bane; "Geez, did it take that long to update?" checks calendar

A; "Well, 2 days is a long time." tugs Bane's shirt

Bane; "Fine, I don't own a damn thing of Full Metal Alchemist."

Laura; "I just won't say anything." O.o

Bane; "That having been said, ready for more dark and unhappy world of mine?"

-silence-

Bane; "Fine. Like I care if you're ready. And side note; this one'll be just a teensy bit more despairing. Mostly because, this time, you get to have descriptions of the poor Edward."

The train rumbled to a stop. Bag in each hand, Al led the way off. Winry, face tinged scarlet from weeping, followed suit.

Edward was asleep when they arrived. The nurse mentioned something about morphine and a sedative. A small screen blipped his heart rate, and wires trailed down from his chest. An air mask covered his mouth and nose.

She never really studied him, afraid, truth be told, of what she might see. What if she looked and he wasn't what he used to be? What if she looked at him and found that pain had contorted him into someone she no longer knew.

A slight twitch ran abruptly through his body, and all muscles suddenly tensed. Winry was unable to keep herself from laying her hand lightly on his human arm. As abruptly as they had tensed, relaxation flowed through him.

"Pull up a chair."

The voice caused her to swivel around. It came from one of the surgeons, who was poised at the doorway. His words were decidedly coy, and although he wore a smile, there was something cold about him. She merely shook her head.

His graying auburn hair was sleeked back, and the white coat gave him an air of distinction. High cheek-boned and in possession of a well-build figure, he owned an oddly Victorian look.

"I need to give you a few diagrams and measurements. He's on life-support systems at the moment, and we'll begin to see declines in the next few days. You'll need to start in the next hour or so. The technitions that work on the electronics have volunteered to allow you to use their work-shop for the next day."

Winry received a small pile of papers from him, and skimmed through them, brow furrowed. It was easy to read, but the work it was going to take to construct something so complex?

"I assume you can manage?"

His voice retained a slight drawl. She was obviously flustered, "I-I…yes, I thin-think this should be fine."

"What time can we expect the parts, then?"

"Wh-what…time?"

Disdain was painted on his face, "Yes. I said 'what time'." Winry could only sit speechlessly.

"Perhaps by tomorrow evening?"

"Y-yes."

Gracefully, the surgeon closed the door behind him.

"What a jack-ass, Al."

"Maybe a little more colorful than I would say it, Winry. But yes."

"You never were much one for color."

There was no more time for tears. Steel made up the night: metal echoed off the dawn. At exactly 6:53 p.m., the part of metallic skeleton was given to the nearest nurse. At 7:41, The operating commenced, and by the time of 4:29 a.m., the surgery was in its aftermath.

Finally, Winry slipped into a restless slumber on one of the waiting room couches, woken only two years later by the buzzing of frantic voices. Snatches of muffled conversation rang in her ears.

"Poor lad. He came to, well, in a way… and he's all disoriented-like. They can't do a thing with 'em."

The first thing that came to her mind was Ed. Almost sprinting through the medical facility, she made her way to his sick room.

When she came to his side, she no longer cared whether or not she'd be shocked by what she saw; she needed to watch him- to know his face. What if, the next day, he passed away, and she had never even looked apon his face; never studied him?

He lay on a sick bed, thrashing. Every so often, he would let a cry escape his throat. His face was gaunt and sweat ridden, and even now, he didn't look anything like the sullen boy who had lost everything. For now, he looked like a man-in-coming that had lost the nothing he had.

A fit of shivers ran along him. He shook mildly, wincing at the jolts of pain along his back. Again, she found herself sitting down beside him, carressing his forhead lightly.

Al waited outside, drinking a gatorade and holding back tears. He had nearly forgotten the weight of water forming at your eyes. And he, for the first time, hated it. He was seventeen, after all. And Ed almost never cried. Almost. Maybe it was that he had always been the more 'sensitive' of the two. As grateful as he felt towards having his body back, the prospect of never having to cry still delved deeper within him.

Her hand found its way into his. Suddenly, his trembling intensified, and his palm grew moistened with persperation. His grip tightened. He cried out, the sound echoing about the empty walls of the room

Winry's fist collided with the 'nurse assistance' button so forcefully that she could hear the plastic strain beneath her fingers. The nurse came bustling in a few minutes later, seeming quite oblivious to the situation.

But by then, Ed was feverish perspiring greatly. And yet, laid-back woman couldn't seem to find the problem.

"Hmm. That's odd."

"What's odd?"

"Well he hasn't got a high fever, but he still has the symptoms of one."

"…You're telling me that you don't know what the fuck is wrong with him?"

She looked taken aback, and left soon afterwards to retrieve a doctor. He, in trun, performed the same tests the previous woman had. But he, to Winry's relief, concluded hat it was simply a minor infection. He promtly drowned two pills down Ed's throat with generous doses of water.

Bane; "It can't be possible to be the happy—" drinks tea and eats gummi worms at 6:02 a.m. "—and still be able to write this stuff."

A; "It should be illegal for you to be able to publish this stuff."

Laura; "Hey! Everyone! I have an announcement."

Bane; to A; "What's this about?"

A; to Bane; "Don't you remember?" gives Bane's brain a tap.

Laura; "I have a new nickname!"

Bane; "Ohhh. I remember now."

A; "Laura, can you do me a favor?"

Laura; "Sure."

A; "Why don't you do the smart thing and tell the readers your new nickname."

Laura; "Oh! Yeah. It's 'Drumstick'. Because I play the drums, and…Bane thought it was a funny nickname to give me. So…now it's mine."

His trembling stopped within the first two hours. And still, she remained, clutching his hand tightly. Thin lines of black lay under her eyelids, but sleep was the last thing on her mind. For the next three hours, she waited for a response; and signal from him that might indicated whether some part of Ed remained in this trembling and half-dead body. She longed to know whether or not a smile could ever cross his face again.

When at last, he did wake, Ed's blurred eyes opened to view Winry. He struggled to say simply, "Damn it, Mustang, I don't have the fucking paperwork. Get off my back, you bastard."

And within minutes, his pale face wore a looke of peace once more. Her tears fell onto their interlocked fingers. Still, she wondered if this dilirious boy was really Ed. Her Ed.

When at last she left the room, she wouldn't speak. Winry, in truth, was afraid that if she did, she'd start crying. And she had cried much too much already.

Suddenly, she felt hunger lash through her brain; she hadn't eaten in two days. After informing Al of where she was going, she made her way down to the hosptital cafeteria, which had been originally named ' Hospitatlity Hospital Cafeterian'. She managed to consume half an apple and a quarter of a carton of orange juice. She couldn't eat without thinking about Edward. Damn.

Her steps made no sound as she treaded on the cold, tiled floor. In her boredom, she bagan to cound the doors that were open, and the doors that weren't. She came to one that was straying from being closed by a few inches, and she paused to consider which category to place it under. It wasn't like she didn't have the next six or seven hours to wander around. Then, two voices in the room caught her attention. A very worn looking P.H.D. physician was conversing with an assistant. The assistant was rather burly, and, after glancing at his stout fingers, she found herself wondering whether or not he could be of any use at doctoring.

"Well, yes, Rupert. But I still think the Elric needs a little more… time to settle before we implement further treatment."

"What would the treatment be? I mean…there's really nothing we can do for psychological after-effects, is there?"

"There's depression medication, but I'm not sure exactly…When I did the neural scans, I found that there's a lot of negetive activity, and I'm sensing that he may have trouble adjusting this this 'new life' happily."

The other man sighed softly then added, "You want me to go tell the girl?"

"What girl?"

"The mechanic—"

"Oh, Yes! The mechanic…hmm… no, I don't think she can handle the stress right now…"

That's all she stayed to listen for. She passed Al on her way to the door. Winry couldn't even look at him; she couldn't tell him what she had just heard.

Just holding Edward's hand made her happy. Just feeling the warmth in her fingertips mingle with the warmth in his.

And still, all it took was a glance at his face; at the expression of agony that came across it every so often, and she felt as though her heart could break in two.

Bane; "Yay! I have 4th chapter written half-way through. But you can't have it; not yet.

Because I need reviews."

A; "And Bane appreciates the previous reviews; she loves you guys. But she needs reviews."

Drumstick; " SO…to get the 4th chapter by tomorrow evening (though, most likely the morning…) Bane needs the reviews to say "reviews; 9". Because she needs reviews."