I died and I'm alive again.
I had more classes to take, but they're done now.
This chapter really pulled me through the ringer 'cause we're getting into the nitty gritty now.
Might do a one-shot. Might update CoS.
Causatum, not Conqueror of Shamballah.
We all know what happened after the movie ended.
Before Hawkeye could hunt down the doctor and demand that the nurse responsible for the information leak be presented for execution, Al's metal hand wrapped around her wrist.
Very few would dare to so much as look at Riza when she was like this.
Al was one of those very few.
"Keep an eye on Brother. I need a phone."
Before anyone could stop him or chastise him for giving orders to a lieutenant colonel, he slipped out of the room, his brother's hand slipping from his gauntlet.
Ed made no move to stop him. He must have understood what was going on well enough to know what his brother was doing.
He then proved to know more about what was going on than everyone else, because he started pawing around himself with his metal hand, batting away any hands that tried to take his, until he found the radio – or rather knocked it over.
Fuery caught it before it could explode into pieces on the floor.
"Um… do you want it on, sir?"
Ed slapped him.
He only managed to graze the sergeant with his fingertips, but the message was clear.
Kain replaced the radio on the table and twisted the dial.
There was a burst of static.
" – and we will keep you updated on the situation as we get more information, isn't that right, Sammy?"
"Um… I think my mommy is looking for me," Samuel's frightened voice came through the speakers. "She's outside the 'partment lookin' in circles."
Little Samuel seemed to realize too late that he was in far above his tiny shoulders.
It was hard to say whether it was poor or fine timing when a woman's distant voice screeched "Samuel!" followed by an answering "Mommy!" then the woman saying "Samuel, what have you done?!"
She sounded on the verge of tears.
"Oh… oh, dear… well… I think we've heard enough from Central's kids today –"
"Cut off this call and I cut off your legs."
If it wasn't for the unmistakable ringing, Roy would not have recognized Alphonse if his life had depended on it.
Fuery made a squeaking sound and Havoc made some sputtering noises before he got out, "Is… is that Al?!"
Riza was the only one who didn't appear at all surprised. In fact, she replaced the safety on her gun and tucked it away, an aura of something akin to pride of all things glowing from her posture.
A few minutes later, Mustang came to share her pride.
At the moment, he was thinking of all the favors he'd have to pull to keep Alphonse from being charged with domestic terrorism.
The broadcaster made a gurgling sound and someone who Roy guessed was the operator said in a high-pitched quaver, "I'm sorry, he told me to connect you. I like my legs!"
Now Samuel's mother was definitely crying. Mustang couldn't bring himself to be angry with her, perhaps she had divulged confidential information but she had done so out of genuine concern, not a desire to gossip. Edward was probably just as much a hero to her as he was to her son, and having to treat him when he was in this condition…
No, Roy could not be angry with her at all.
"I… I demand that you disconnect at once –"
"Then I shall do the same to your legs, sir, so please, be quiet. I want to talk to Samuel and his mother."
The broadcaster might as well have died with his obedient silence. Samuel's mother made a terrible wailing sound.
"Hello?"
It was Samuel who answered, he had seen that his mother was clearly out of sorts and taken it upon himself to get them out of the mess he'd made.
He was a man, after all. His parents reminded him every day.
"Hey, Sam. Do you remember me? I helped get you out of the sewer drain when you fell. The man in the armor, remember?"
"The car man! You helped Eddard get me out of the hole and then got Eddard out of the hole when he got stuck 'cause he couldn't get out with his little arms!"
Roy could not help himself.
Hawkeye's slap on the ear and Ed's furious growling were not enough to get him to stop laughing.
"I never thought that Alphonse looked like a car… but now that I am thinking about it…" Havoc tilted his head slightly.
"Yes, the car man. I heard that you're worried about Brother – Edward, I mean. I have good news. The doctors are taking good care of him and he's going to get better."
"But – But Mommy said that the other people who got sick like Eddard didn't get better! She said they had to be put down and Stevie from school had a dog that got put down and Stevie said that means they gave him a shot to make him sleep forever an' ever and… Eddard can't be a superhero if he's sleeping all the time."
Edward's eyes rolled like startled horse's.
Mustang guessed that the idea of an injection that made someone sleep eternally, metaphorically or otherwise, did not sit well with him. Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself gripping the boy's flesh leg and giving his ankle a squeeze.
"Well, they didn't have your mom to take care of them, did they? She's one of the nurses who's helping him get better. I bet your mom is so good at her job she'll have Brother back to throwing himself into stupid fights like he always does in no time."
There was some mumbling on the other end of the call.
"Mommy says 'not for long.' I think she's in trouble."
A pause.
"Is… is Mommy in trouble?"
"Of course not, Samuel. Your mommy's not in trouble and she's going to keep taking care of Brother. And if anyone says different… well, I hope they know how to use a wheelchair."
Samuel giggled.
"You talk funny, car man."
"You can call me Alphonse. Can I talk to your mom now?"
There was some chatter as Samuel spoke to his mother and gave her the phone.
The poor woman was sniffling and hiccuping too hard to say anything at first and struggled to compose herself enough to speak.
"I'm… I'm sorry…"
"Brother and I can't accept your apology. I refuse to let you be sorry for caring. If anyone gives you or your family trouble about this, just call Colonel Mustang at East city Headquarters. He'll find me and I'll find whoever bothered you. And they'll wish they'd chosen a less violent occupation. Like shepherding. Sheep are surprisingly friendly if you know how to handle them."
There was a tearful laugh.
"Why… why are you being so kind to me? You should be demanding some sort of compensation or telling me you'll sue…"
Alphonse was quiet for so long that Roy began to think he wouldn't answer.
"Brother and I haven't had a lot of people care about us growing up. The fact that you cared enough about Brother to tattle on him is a lot more than most people have ever done for us. I can never, ever be upset with someone for being worried about someone else's suffering. If Brother and I had had more people like you… maybe things could have been different."
And now Samuel's mother was crying again, but they were different tears than before.
Mustang pretended he didn't see they way Edward's hand curled into a fist tight enough to make the metal creak.
XXX
Roy hadn't been sure he appreciated being roped into this affair so intimately, even though is common sense told him that he was already intimately roped in and Alphonse's comment would have made no difference. His feelings quickly changed to that of the opposite upon receiving a call from the hospital director about providing restitution for the nurse's breach of confidentiality, a message which he then sent forward to Alphonse. Mustang later followed up on the matter and discovered that, not only had the nurse not been fired, she had been given a significant bonus and been assigned as Ed's primary care provider.
"She reads to him. Even though she doesn't seem to understand what the alchemy the books are about, she does her best. I even heard her reading him the second book in that series Gracia started."
Roy had smiled, caught himself, and quickly turned the smile into a smirk.
"A child enjoying children's books. What a concept."
Al had stared at him as best as someone without eyes can stare.
"Colonel… Mrs. Hughes found the books in your house."
And that was how the colonel discovered Alphonse Elric's innate talent for blackmail.
XXX
They visited when they could.
Gracia brought Elicia.
Havoc brought comic books and Fuery brought a larger antenna for the radio.
Falman brought flowers, the gentle soul he was, and Breda sent a pack of cards courtesy of Falman. Whether or not he knew that Ed's condition made the cards a bit useless for him, Al accepted them.
He'd challenged Havoc to a game of poker.
He'd won.
Havoc had then taken the cards away and said that the brothers were too young to play cards anyway.
Even Armstrong, away in Central, had sent a gift by mail – a bottle of the famous Armstrong family miracle tonic.
Roy had taken an experimental sip and found it to be, unsurprisingly, undiluted vodka.
He might have taken that gift home with him and hidden it in his wine locker.
Roy and Riza brought themselves, and Black Hayate when it was possible. The dog curled against Ed's side and occasionally licked at his right shoulder, which had been lanced and powdered with a crumbly medicine that smelled horribly sour.
All of these paled in comparison to the letters and candies and toys that arrived daily.
XXX
The morning the colonel arrived at his office to find a paper bag full of parcels, he'd assumed it was a "donation" from a lower officer or aspiring politician. He'd taken the bag to his desk and unloaded its contents. He was surprised to find more envelopes than he cared to count, some books that looked like novels bundled together with a strap, several boxes of sweets, a tin soldier, a teddy bear with a porcelain nose and glass eyes, and a manila folder that looked very official.
It was addressed "To Our Hero, Edward Elric."
Mustang realized the delivery was not for him when he saw the toys and yet it still stung to see Fullmetal's name as the recipient. The only people who sent him presents when he was indisposed were the second lieutenant and people who wanted something from him.
What did you expect? the little voice in Roy's head sneered. You literally climbed the bodies of the victims of your murders to get where you are now. You only prod a beast to feed it.
And Edward had stayed where he was, happily in the middle, using what little authority he had to provide for those who had none.
Ed's level of deserving to lay paralyzed in a breathing machine was the antithesis of how much he deserved a bag of goodies.
Even so, Roy couldn't stop himself from opening the folder. Despite not being addressed to him, he was probably the only person fit to read it, what with Fullmetal's current situation.
Dear Edward Elric and his brother,
They knew Edward's name but they didn't know Alphonse's. He knew that if it had been anyone else, their ego would have been rankled. Still, he felt sorry for the younger brother.
We, the students and staff of East City Primary School, were terribly saddened to hear about your illness. The students of the school were insistent that we show our support and appreciation, and so the teachers held a school-wide project.
Each of the students has written you a personal get-well letter and each class has donated a gift according to set amounts of allowance that they were able to give.
Thank you and your brother for repairing the broken heaters in our classrooms (and offices) last winter (and fixing the air conditioners; we didn't even know they were broken!). We all enjoyed the demonstration you gave afterward; the children love the playground you built for them! Please know that everyone here is thinking about you and hoping that you recover quickly.
With great love,
Principal Cora Fletcher
P.S.
Feel free to come and visit whenever you like. The doors of ECPS are always open to the both of you!
"Your coffee, sir. What do you have there?"
Roy jumped as Hawkeye entered the room, holding a sheaf of papers in one hand and a mug of steaming black coffee in the other. Roy quickly but neatly slipped the letter back into the folder and began repacking the gifts.
"We have a delivery to make, Lieutenant."
"Oh? To where, may I ask?"
"The hospital. Fullmetal has received correspondence from well-wishers."
"How nice… Sir, are you all right? You look –"
"I'm quite fine, Lieutenant."
The colonel swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked away the wetness trying to pool in his eyes.
He wondered if anyone had thought about him, wished him a fast recovery, when he'd been the one lying paralyzed in a breathing machine.
He knew the answer was no, knew the answer should be no, and yet he wished it wasn't.
XXX
When Alphonse saw the bag of gifts, he made a noise that Mustang couldn't quite identify.
When he saw the fancy stuffed bear that must have cost the upper-class students several weeks' worth of savings, his shoulders bowed slightly and his head tilted. Roy couldn't tell what emotion he was expressing.
When Mustang asked Al if he was all right, he said, "It's… I didn't realize that Brother means so much to so many people."
"They're thinking of you too, Alphonse."
Al's helmet lilted in the other direction but he said nothing.
"Have they taken your brother out to bathe him today?"
"Not yet. They should be getting ready soon."
They entered the room to find one nurse wiping down the cot of the iron lung and another helping Edward, who was lying on a gurney, through his physical therapy.
Or rather, she was doing it for him.
"Oh my, more presents?! You must have quite the fan club!"
Ed's eyes rolled and he tried to shove the nurse away with his metal foot. With an ease that came from obvious practice, she caught his ankle and returned it to the bed of the gurney.
"I know you don't like it, baby, but we can't have your muscles atrophying, can we?"
She went back to flexing Edward's leg as best she could. She could only manage to bend his knee by a fraction – proof that the nerves were healing, or at least, the muscles that had been caught in tension were finally too spent to hold their position.
He tried to kick the nurse again and this time Alphonse stepped in to hold his brother's leg down.
"Hey, Brother! How are you today?"
Ed made a high-pitched squeaking sound.
"Sorry, Brother. The doctor says that while some of your muscles are stuck being used, the others aren't being used at all and that's not good for you. It's also not good for you to just lie there doing nothing. You might get trumbosites."
The nurse laughed, a musical sound that reminded Roy of wind chimes. He made a mental note to ask for her name and schedule later.
"Thrombosis. We don't want him getting blood clots from staying in the same position too long. Normally, your body makes you fidget and bounce in your seat when you've been sitting too long or toss and turn in your sleep to keep your blood from clotting in your veins, but when mobility is an issue, sometimes it needs a little help."
Ed tried to swipe at the nurse with his right hand. Mustang took it upon himself to grab the boy's arm.
"Fullmetal, behave yourself. Set a good example for the kids at ECPS."
"ECPS?" Alphonse asked as he shifted so the nurse could move around him to work on Ed's left arm.
"East City Primary School," Mustang clarified. "The generous beneficiaries of these latest donations." He brandished the bag of letters with the arm that wasn't busy restraining a major who looked very much like he would try to bite the first person who came to close.
The ventilator mask covering his mouth, as well as the fact that he was unable to part his jaws, would have made this very difficult.
The nurse cleaning the iron lung must have finished her task because suddenly she was beside him, reaching into the bag and pulling out the folder containing the principal's letter.
"'To our hero, Edward Elric.' How thoughtful!"
She opened the folder and pulled out the paper inside, then took it upon herself to read its contents out loud. When Alphonse heard himself mentioned, he shrunk into himself, hunching his shoulders in a way that Roy could only describe as bashful.
"So these presents are from the children at the school? How sweet of them!"
Most of the gifts were edible, making them currently inaccessible to Fullmetal since none of them were in liquid form and so couldn't be put through his food drip. The nurse focused on the books, the toy soldier, and the stuffed bear.
"Oh, goodness. I've seen these in the window of the toy shop." She stroked the bear's velveteen fur and hummed appreciatively at the softness. "Well, the quality certainly justifies the price."
When Mustang had first seen the bear, he'd completely assumed that Fullmetal was going to vehemently reject it, most likely out of an adolescent condescension that toys were for small children and he, in fact, was neither small nor a child. He had not even considered that when the bear was brushed against his face so he could feel the silkiness of the pelt and the coldness of the nose that Edward would turn towards the feeling with a curious purring sound.
Roy tried to remember any bursts of sensations from when he'd been under the paralytic. The clearest memories he could drag up from the darkness were Maes telling him that he'd bought a ring for Gracia and Hawkeye explaining that there was talk about promotions. When he'd woken up, he'd thought the memories the ramblings of half-remembered dreams, but when they came true, it was clear they had been more akin to premonitions.
He wondered if Ed had noticed that his brother had left shortly after the radio had shut off when Alphonse had hijacked the children's program on the broadcast and was lucid enough to create the association. Perhaps he'd then simply sensed Al's absence and had reached out to find him, then calmed at the sound of his voice when Alphonse had spoken to Samuel and his mother.
Perhaps it was all of those things.
Whatever his level of awareness, he seemed to appreciate the feeling of fur against his skin and familiar voices in his ear. On an impulse, Roy stuck a hand into the bag and pulled out a letter. Maybe he didn't like the idea of being left out of the doting session or maybe he just wanted something to do other than stand there and hold Edward's metal hand to keep him from embarrassing himself.
It was a trick to open the envelope one-handed without ripping the paper inside, but with the help of his chin and the top of his chest, he managed it with a stinging paper cut just above his neck. The nurse jumped to his aid out of habit and quickly taped a strip of gauze to the wound to keep blood from dripping onto the letter.
Although, the contents of the letter were practically incomprehensible with the paper in pristine condition.
"Um… hmm…"
"Let me try, sir."
Riza plucked the page out of his hand without waiting for his answer. Roy thought about asking her why she hadn't helped him open the envelope in the first place, but decided it wiser to let it go.
Hawkeye was able to translate the scribbles after a few moments of decoding.
Dear Edward,
My teacher says you are sick. When I am sick my mommy gives me crackers and soda pop. Then when I throw up, she makes my daddy clean it up and laughs when he makes throw up sounds.
Love, Emmy
Silence.
Then Al started making an odd clicking noise that Roy eventually recognized as a breathless laugh.
"What… how is that supposed to help him?" Mustang found his voice.
"Well, at the top it says Emmy is writing from Miss Eaton's kindergarten class, so I would guess the author was working off of word association."
"Read another one," Alphonse sounded so genuinely excited that Roy decided to try again, sticking his hand back into the bag and pulling out a second letter. This time Riza opened it for him, upon his request.
To Mister Edward Elric,
I am very sorry to hear that you are not feeling well. My class is learning about germs in science and how soap kills germs and keeps you from getting sick. You should use some soap! When you don't use soap, the germs get on you and make you stink and then they get in you and make you sick. That's why my mom always tells me to take a bath with soap when I stink because it means that I have germs on me. So always smell your pits to check if you stink and if you do, then take a bath with soap. Then you won't get sick again.
Sincerely, Isaac Blevins
Roy Mustang would forever wonder how a suit of armor without lungs or vocal cords was able to cackle so viciously that he fell over. The loud CLANG made Edward jerk. His left hand crabbed shakily and his eyes bulged and rolled. He made a high-pitched keening sound that made Roy think of a wolf that had been separated from its pack.
Alphonse immediately sprang to his feet and pressed his gauntlet to his brother's face.
"It's okay, Brother. I'm okay. I'm sorry, shhh."
The doctor burst into the room, looking around worriedly.
When he saw the way his patient's body was slightly arched and how his fingers were curled, he frowned and glared at each person standing in the room, save for the nurses, whom he knew knew better.
"It was me. I fell," Alphonse admitted bashfully.
The doctor's expression quickly morphed from accusing to concerned.
"Are you all right?" he asked as he made his way to the gurney that Fullmetal lay upon. He immediately assessed the boy's breathing and gently felt the muscles that were locked mid-spasm.
"I'm fine. We were just… I slipped." Al had started giggling again and the doctor stared at him incredulously.
Roy offered the letter in explanation and when the doctor read it, he couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face.
He still ended the visit there, insisting that Ed needed to be returned to the iron lung and full unconsciousness to prevent a full convulsion.
Reading the letters from the school, as well as the other letters that came in, became Al's new past-time. He was surprised to find that the majority of them were full of questions. After reading through the first five messages, Alphonse requested a pen – the strongest one they could find, Al had very nearly mastered his nerveless fingers but he still broke the occasional pencil when he forgot to monitor his strength.
However, another unfortunate consequence of his inability to feel the writing utensil was his abysmal handwriting. Samuel's mother, who was called Nurse Dorothea by the other staff, volunteered to transcribe his returning letters for the children – and sometimes the teachers. It was the least she could do, she insisted, considering everything Alphonse had done for her.
XXX
Dear Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother,
My brother told me that your mom was a train and your dad was a wild man from Creta and that's why you fight like a barb – barber – crazy person. Can your train mom talk? Does she talk like a person or does she talk in a train voice? Is your crazy dad stinky?
Abel, Miss Winters's First Grade Class
XXX
To Abel,
Your brother is very creative! Unfortunately, my mother was not a train. She was a person, like your mother, and she had a very sweet, lovely voice. I don't remember my father very well, but Brother has told me that he did not look Amestrian. He never told us where he was from before he left. I'm sure, however, that he did stink after working all day in the sun.
Alphonse Elric, younger brother of the Fullmetal Alchemist
XXX
Fullmetal and his brother,
Can I have your autograph?
Henrietta, Miss Fox's Third Grade Class
XXX
Henrietta,
Brother isn't really able to write much of anything right now, so here's a page of his notes that we're no longer using. Brother was trying to find out how hard I would have to throw him for him to get taller by expanding his body through heat and speed, sort of how the universe is believed to be constantly expanding.
The plan did not work because the force of traveling at such a speed would have turned his organs to mush, if not cause him to combust from the overwhelming production of heat energy, and I would kind of like to be an uncle someday.
Alphonse Elric, younger brother of the Fullmetal Alchemist
XXX
To the Elric brothers,
I am going to be a doctor when I grow up and I have done enough research to know that patients with automail can be tricky in a hospital. They say Edward is called "Fullmetal" because he is covered in automail. How did this happen? How does he take care of himself?
Faye, Miss Bird's Sixth Grade Homeroom
XXX
Faye,
Actually, Brother's not the one in full-body automail. Brother has a prosthetic arm and leg and I wear a special suit of armor. We were born in a village just north of Ishval. When the war broke out, a lot of the towns nearby got caught up in the fighting. Brother and I don't really like talking about it. After the fighting left our village, Brother and I went to live with a neighbor who is an automail mechanic. She made my brother a new arm and leg and made me a suit that would help me live with my injuries.
Brother doesn't really mind his automail, but the scars hurt him when it rains because of the pressure. It also hurts him when he has to visit our mechanic to have his automail maintained. My advice to you is not to ask someone with automail about what happened because they might not want to talk about it. Also, aspirin and hot towels or hot water bottles can really help with pain from automail. Just remember that having automail means that a part of the person's body is missing, so there's actually less of them than a normal patient. This might mess with the amount of medicine you have to give them.
Good luck becoming a doctor!
Alphonse Elric, younger brother of the Fullmetal Alchemist
XXX
Al sighed, setting aside the book he'd been reading to watch his brother sleep. In a strange way, Edward reminded him of a carrot: Ed's tiny head representing the shorn body of the plant while the bulky tube he disappeared into acting as the absurdly elongated root. The hiss and and hum of air being squeezed out of and pulled into the chamber were the only sounds.
Al's concept of time was skewed by his inability to sleep. He flipped open Ed's journal, written in a code that not even Alphonse had cracked (though he was sure he could if he tried), and counted the tally marks of how many times the nurses had given Edward a sponge bath, which he knew happened only once a day. With a jolt, he counted two complete tally groups and one that was nearly complete.
Fourteen days: Edward had been in the iron lung for two weeks.
He knew it had been more than a week – Maes had had to return to Central with his family, no matter how upset he was to leave the Elrics this way – but the fact that another seven days had passed…
And that wasn't counting the three days before the hospital they'd spent in the colonel's house.
Al let his helmet fall against the wall and stared unseeingly at the ceiling, wishing he had eyes to close.
The doctor and a nurse broke the silence, stepping into the room and making her way to the iron lung. Al couldn't be bothered to raise his head and watch, just being in the room with his motionless brother taking more out of him than he cared to think about. He couldn't stay outside the room anymore, any uneasiness he had felt at the beginning of this layover replaced by the never fulfilled anticipation of seeing his Ed open his eyes.
"On his back, you said? I suppose it was inevitable."
"It doesn't look fully formed, but it's certainly irritated."
Alphonse jerked to alertness.
"What are you doing?" he asked, standing up and making his way towards them.
The doctor glanced at him and worked his jaw. Not for the first time, Al wondered what his name was. He'd never given his name and he didn't wear a tag. There wasn't even a name on the sign of his office.
"Your brother may be developing bed sores."
Alphonse knew what that meant. Ed had broken out into rash on his back during the recovery from his surgery. Winry has said that it happened when someone lay in bed for days on end. Gravity pressed the bones and skin together, pinching off blood and suffocating the flesh.
The nurse quickly clipped the rubber tube that fed medication into the vein in Edward's neck. If he couldn't be in the iron lung, he had to be just awake enough to breathe on his own. Once the doctor saw sings of him breathing on his own, the nurse shut off the iron lung with a popping hiss and pulled the gurney out of the chamber. With the greatest of care, the doctor and nurse rolled Ed onto his left side so that he was facing the nurse. The doctor made a "hmmming" sound as he studied the patch of red, flaky skin around his patient's shoulder blades.
"Yes, it's definitely forming. Not nearly as bad as I thought when you told me it was there. Let's keep him on his side for awhile, let the blood come back. While we're at at, let's put some antiseptic and moisturizer on just to be safe. A bit of gauze, couldn't hurt, either."
Edward was cradling the stuffed bear the schoolchildren had sent him in his left hand. The orderlies who cared for him always replaced it after bathing him and lately the first sign of Edward coming awake was his fingers tickling the velvet.
"Hey, Brother. It's all right. The doctor says you have a sore on your back, but they're taking care of it."
Ed's eyes fluttered and opened slightly. His gaze was cloudy and unfocused and he stared at nothing. Al brushed the rogue strands of his brother's hair out of his eyes.
The doctor left, saying he'd call Nurse Dorothea to clean Ed's rash and that he'd come back after seeing his other patients. When she arrived, Nurse Dorothea was carrying a small basket of gauze, antiseptic, and what looked like skin lotion.
"How's my handsome hero today?"
She didn't wait for the answer she wouldn't receive and wetted a strip of gauze with alcohol. When the cotton touched the angry skin on his back, Ed squeaked softly and his eyes slid closed. Al wrapped his glove around his brother's human hand and squeezed.
"I bet the colonel and the lieutenant will come see you today. Maybe Havoc will come this time, too."
"There we go," said Dorothea after smearing the sore with ointment and patting a gauze over it. "That should keep it – Oh my God."
The other nurse had been busy monitoring Edward's vitals. At Dorothea's exclamation, she looked up, saw, and nearly tripped over herself in her rush out the door.
Alphonse was too afraid to move.
When the doctor arrived, the flustered nurse holding the door him and his coat fluttering behind him, he saw Edward's left arm, pale and trembling, reaching across the gurney to grip his brother's helmet.
His voice was rough from disuse and slurred from medicine.
"Al… fun… Al… Al…"
Maybe I'll do a one-shot about doughnuts.
Donuts.
Doenuts?
Deeznuts?
GOT 'EM.
(It's funny because I don't have any 'cause I'm a girl.)