Here's chapter 9 of Someday! Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! You guys rock!

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Here's the next chapter! I want to thank my Beta reader! Hopefully there won't be any more spelling mistakes. Here's the next chapter.

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"How is he?" Roy enquired, letting a small amount of his anxiousness seep into his voice. Ed had woken up after his operation about an hour ago and the doctors were only just letting military personnel in to question him on what happened. Even if Roy saw Ed and Al in a brotherly or perhaps even fatherly way, it wasn't recognized by law so he had been stuck here, in the waiting room for the past god knows how long.

"Better than we expected. He's conscious and already demanding to be released from the hospital. But there's something else I'd like to discuss with you…regarding the boy's health," The doctor replied, a look of seriousness on his face. When he got a nod in response from the colonel, he continued. "We took a sample of blood. Just as a precaution. I know how you military types are. He probably hasn't seen a doctor in at least a year. It's procedure to check for any abnormalities when you come in here. It's a good thing we did too. The boy is sick. Very sick."

"I know." Mustang responded, nodding. It hadn't been hard to figure out. He had thought it was simply a cold, or at worst, a nasty flu that would clear up in a week, but if the doctor felt the need to mention it...it had to be serious. "What do you know?"

"Not much. We're still processing the samples we took. But there seems to be something wrong with his immune system. It's weaker than it should be." The doctor explained

"He's sick. Isn't it normal for his immune system to be weaker because of that?" Roy questioned, his brow creased in confusion.

"While the immune system does get weaker while someone's sick, the level of white blood cells usually increases. The level of white blood cells in his blood are…uncomfortably low. We still can't pinpoint what it is that's the problem but it's not good. It's like… his immune system is shutting down. That means that when it gets bad enough, he could die of something as simple as a cold. We're still doing more tests. This is probably just the tip of the iceberg. Still…" the doctor trailed off, and began cleaning his glasses on the edge of his white doctor's coat.

"How long?" Mustang asked, unable to keep the mounting dread out of his voice.

"If we can't boost his immune system, about two months. If we can do something to help, maybe four months. If we're lucky, and that's assuming that there's nothing else wrong." He sighed "I don't know how much we can do if we can't figure out what disease this is. My suggestion is to let him live out his remaining time in peace. The chances of surviving this are…slim. I'm sorry." The man truly did look as if he wanted to help somehow. He looked about 40 and had bark-brown hair speckled with bits of grey. Premature wrinkles were permanently etched into his worried face along with brown eyes that suggested a kind man who had seen too much death and suffering for one lifetime.

A look of pain crossed unhindered across Roy's face. "There's nothing you can do? I'm supposed to sit here and watch him die?" his slate-colored eyes begged for reassurance that the young blond alchemist would be all right.

"Right now we're giving him blood transfusions to help raise his white blood cell count. That should help a bit but right now, there's nothing else we can do. I'm sorry." The doctor paused, placing a comforting hand on Mustang's shoulder. "We'll do all we can. You can see him now if you like."

As the colonel walked away, the doctor sighed. "Poor kid. He'll die a slow and painful death, and with so little time there's almost no way to find a cure." He shook his head before walking back down the hall; he hated this part of his job. Maybe this kid would be lucky. Maybe he would survive. He mentally sighed. Yeah, maybe the kid would be all right. And maybe they would stop fighting wars. It was about as likely. There wasn't enough time. Maybe if it could have been caught earlier…but not now. It was too late now. It always was.

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Mustang nearly ran down the hall toward Ed's room. He couldn't die. Roy couldn't imagine living without the two Eric brothers there to look after. He had to find a cure. He didn't care what it took; he would not let Ed die. He would not be responsible for yet another life being cut short.

As Mustang entered the room, he heard the familiar sounds of the two brothers arguing.

"Come on Al, all I wanna do is sit up! It's not like I'm gonna get up and start dancing or something!" Ed complained, struggling to sit up with Al holding him down.

"No Brother. The doctor said you shouldn't push yourself, the stitches on your side could open up!" Al said rationally, his arms effectively stopping his weaker-than-usual brother from moving.

"Al!" Ed whined, unable to do much else.

Roy found it suddenly harder to breathe. In a lot of ways, Ed looked the same as he always did, but now Mustang was noticing little things that he hadn't noticed before. Ed's face was thinner than it should have been and there were bags under his eyes, suggesting he wasn't getting enough sleep or eating enough. His normally tanned skin was paler than usual and his struggling was weaker than it should have been.

"Al, let him sit up." Roy managed to choke out.

"Colonel Mustang?" Al stopped his efforts to restrain Ed to look up at the older man. "Why? He could open up his wounds again." He tilted his head in confusion.

"He can't breathe." The colonel pointed out. Now that Al looked, his brother's breathing was labored and shallower than it should have been. He let go of his brother, sending him a slightly incredulous look.

Ed chuckled nervously at Alphonse's look. 'Great. This is gonna mean another interrogation session later isn't it?' he thought, already dreading the thought of dodging Al's rather pointed questions. He was tired enough as it was.

"Why didn't you tell me Ed?" Roy questioned, as a troubled look flickered across his face.

Ed let out another nervous chuckle and gave Mustang a confused but cautious look. "What do you mean Mustang? Tell you what?" he questioned

"You know very well what I'm talking about Edward!" Mustang roared, storming over to the hospital bed.

Ed suddenly threw a questioning look at his brother. When Al simply gave him a small nod, Ed sighed. 'Looks like that interrogation session is coming early.' He sighed. 'No use in lying anymore. I have to tell them something'. Running a hand through his messy blond hair he looked up. "What do you know?"

Roy almost smiled in relief. The boy was actually going to tell him something rather than dance around the subject, dodging questions. This had to be good. Right? "Something's wrong with your immune system. They said it was shutting down. You've known about this for a while, haven't you Ed?"

Judging by the look on Al's face, this was new information. 'Typical Ed. He's making the ones around him worry by trying to protect them.' Roy looked up "Now how did this happen?"

Ed chuckled, blinking tiredly (a side affect of the pain medication) and looked toward the ceiling. "It had to do with the stone." He paused for a moment, trying to think of what to say next. "I found a way to create the philosopher's stone without sacrificing human lives. What you need to understand is that it isn't the human lives directly that you need. Every person on earth has the same amount of basic alchemic power. That's what the stone needs, the alchemic power equivalent to many human lives. Normally there's no way to get that power without killing people in the process but…" Ed yawned. "Al, remember Lab 5, when I stepped in that puddle of red water? It multiplied my alchemic power to far beyond what humans were designed to be able to handle. My brain subconsciously cut off the extra power, otherwise I'd have lost control over it and be unable to control my alchemy." Ed paused again but refused to look at either Mustang or Al, knowing that if he did he'd be unable to continue. "I used that extra power to create the stone. I couldn't just extract that energy out my body though. It would have killed me just like anybody else. So I started to form the stone within my own body. When it was finished I…removed it…from my body." He finished finally, letting out another yawn.

'That ought to be enough to keep them satisfied. Now if only I could get some sleep…' Ed thought, fighting to remain awake.

"That doesn't explain how you got sick though, Brother" Al asked, confused.

'Damn. Why does he have to be so bloody perceptive?' he thought tiredly. Sleep seemed so inviting right now. If only they would stop asking questions…

"Remember…the red water… in Xenotime?" Ed managed to get out before giving into sleep.

Al sighed. "Figures the medication they gave him would kick in right before he could tell us what we want to know."

AL sighed and settled into the uncomfortable plastic chair that had been placed next to the bed, and grasped Ed's hand. "They gave him some medication just before you came in. To help with the pain. They said it would probably make him tired."

Mustang walked over to the bed and pushed the hair away from the sleeping boy's face. "What do you remember about Xenotime Al?"