When Edward tried to scramble away, the lieutenant caught him.

She didn't catch him the way the colonel had, pressing him down against the mattress to keep him still. When Edward, despite his efforts, tried to sit up and push the nurse away, Riza had met his arms with her own.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been held like this.

Winry had tried to hold him during the worst days of his surgery, but she wasn't much bigger than him, and her attempts to take him in her arms were often more smothering than supporting.

Edward had never pushed her away.

He didn't push the lieutenant away, but he couldn't stop himself from digging his nails into shirt - she, unlike Mustang, did not wear her uniform on her days off - or from pulling his legs into himself in an attempt to roll into a defensive ball. He did not bite her - he managed to keep himself from doing that - but he was running out of places to put the pain.

He'd long since taught himself to stay quiet. He had been able to keep Alphonse from seeing him on the worst days, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep Al from hearing him if he cried out. Winry and Granny had already seen so much, it mattered little that they saw the tears or the way he would bite and pull at his pillow like an untrained puppy he used as alternatives to shouting.

But those had been secret, weaknesses the Rockbells had promised never to speak of, either to him or to his brother. They were secrets that were supposed to stay in the little operating room in Risembool and now they were here in East City where they would be known by anyone Edward couldn't keep away.

Now the colonel and the lieutenant and the nurse and anyone who else who saw and heard about this would think that he was a child. They already thought of him as a baby in a bull pen, and despite his best efforts, he knew he only had stubs where his horns should be, but he had hoped that, as small as they were, he could earn the others' respect by constantly sharpening the stubs into points.

It usually worked, his temper and talent making up for inexperience, but as hard as he tried, he couldn't bully his body into growing faster, couldn't learn maturity from a book. He couldn't control the reflex to fight back and couldn't teach himself an alternative to his alternative of burying his face into the crook of the lieutenant's shoulder.

If she felt the wetness against her skin, she didn't react beyond holding him tighter.

Pain is just a feeling.

The body is just a thing.

This is already in the past.

"All done."

He came back to himself, the stinging vanishing and leaving the itchy burning behind. The lieutenant did not let go of him.

"Two down, twenty-eight more to go," the nurse said, packing up the kit of syringes, needles, plungers, and serum. "Same advice as last time: ice for swelling and aspirin for fever or headache."

When Hawkeye did let him go, he made a point of not looking at the wet spot on her shirt and viciously wiped his eyes until they were dry. He couldn't do much about the redness of his cheeks or his incessant sniffling. Edward reached for his shirt and drew back with a pained hiss as the movement pulled at the fresh lump next to the smaller, older one. Riza took it upon herself to fetch his shirt and help him into it, doing her best to keep his arms from moving as much as possible.

Edward scooted to the edge of the cot, swinging his legs over the side, and tried to stand up.

He gasped and quickly sat back down again.

The after-pain was worse the second time by half of the first time. It took Ed a moment to realize it was because, despite the decrease in swelling, the first spot still hurt. Hawkeye said nothing, simply handed him the now popular pouch of ice the nurse provided. He lifted his shirt and curled around the pouch, sighing at the instant relief and uncomfortable coldness.

Then they had to wait for the swelling to abate enough for him to try again.

"What do you want for dinner?" she asked him as they waited. Edward looked up at her through his bangs, the question clear, and she smiled encouragingly. "Your choice, same as breakfast."

His question answered, Ed studied his knees while he contemplated.

"Noodles," he decided. "Noodles and soda."

Riza nodded in acquiescence.

"Noodles and soda it is, then."

XXX

Edward woke up in the middle of the night.

For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was or what had woken him.

Then his body shuddered and he felt the wetness of a cold sweat.

"Brother? Are you okay?"

Ed lifted his head and saw his brother's soulfire eyes glowing back at him, the light of the transmutation under his helmet flickering like a candle.

"Al?"

The creak of armor.

"Yes, Brother, I'm here. Can I get you anything?"

Edward thought as he shivered and sweated.

"Water, maybe."

Al chuckled and stood up with the squeak of metal and rustle of leather.

"'Water, maybe.' Got it, Brother."

He left the room, doing his best to keep his footfalls quiet despite their weight.

"Mmm… Edward? Is everything all right?"

The voice was so close to him that Ed jumped, his aching muscles twinging in protest.

The lieutenant was laying beside him in the bed. Her hair was mussed and her eyes were heavy with sleep. She had traded her casual day clothes for a simple sleeping outfit, the whitish blue cotton shining in the faint light streaming from the window.

Edward's first reaction was to scramble away from her.

The result, as it was meant to be, was him falling out of the bed.

"Edward!"

The lieutenant was awake in an instant.

She clambered out of the bed, twisting herself in the sheets as she did so, and stumbled around the side to pick him up off the floor.

"Wha'… what' are you doin'?" Ed slurred as he fought to get his legs beneath him. His knees didn't seem to want to support him and shook like his body weighed three times as much as it did.

"Well, I was sleeping, considering it's… two in the morning," she said, glancing at the clock on the bedside table for reference.

Ed shook his head, unsatisfied with her answer.

"No, I mean… why 're you… why 're we…"

Riza realized the confusion and smiled amusedly. She saved her answer until she'd gotten him re-situated on the bed.

"You were already sleeping and I didn't want to disturb you. When I saw that your fever had come back, I wanted to stay close in case you needed something."

"Hey, Brother. I got you your 'water, maybe' and some 'medicine, maybe' to go with it."

Alphonse was little more than a large shadow in the dark room. The glass reflected the moonlight and illuminated the pair of white pills in his other gauntlet. Edward took the pills without protest and accepted the water with shaking hands. He realized how thirsty he was when he drank the entire glass in three gulps. He returned the emptied cup to Al and let himself fall back against the slightly damp pillow.

Hawkeye's fingers slid over his wet forehead.

"Your fever's worse," she said unnecessarily. "Hopefully the medicine will bring it down. Do you want to try going back to sleep?"

Sleeping was something that sounded pleasant but implausible. The heat radiating from inside him and the shivers racking him kept him from relaxing. Riza seemed to understand his predicament, perhaps seeing what he could not say in his shaking, and pulled the covers over him again. The linens stuck to his skin.

"Try to sleep," she said, crossing the bed to her side and laying down. If sleeping had been hard before, it was impossible now, knowing there was a woman in the same bed as he was. It was even worse when he remembered his brother was watching.

There was an awkward five minutes of staring out the window at the light-polluted night sky of the city before Al either thought that Ed had fallen asleep or decided that he was of better use elsewhere and left, the first theory becoming gaining more evidence from the increased care Alphonse took in his movements.

It suddenly occurred to him that Hayate was nowhere to be found and he realized how Alphonse must be occupying himself.

The thought brought him some peace of mind and he was able to settle further into the sheets.

XXX

There was a hand on his chest.

Edward didn't know if the lieutenant had meant to put her hand over his heart or if there was a reason behind it, like feeling for if his temperature changed during the rest of the night. The hand was heavy and warm and the soft sound of Hawkeye's breathing pulled up a memory he didn't know he had, of waking up beside between his mother and father after a brutal thunderstorm.

He had been smashed between their hot bodies, his father smelling of papers and ink, his mother of soap and growing things, the dawn light leaking through the window and casting the bedroom into shades of blue and purple.

He was used to the stabs of grief, waves of agony that stole his breath and corked his throat. This one stayed longer than the others, deeper and stronger than the throbbing of his sores, and to his horror he felt his eyes fill. He closed them trying to force the tears back where they had come from. Instead the came free and rolled down his face and into his hair.

It had been a long time since he'd cried for his mother.

He was usually good about keeping his bouts of mourning to himself, but he usually didn't have someone's hand on his chest as his lungs jumped in stifled gasps. He only realized Riza was awake when her hand moved from his chest to his face and brushed away his tears with her thumb. He didn't push her away when she pulled him close to her.

She smelled like gun oil and dog fur - a far cry from lye and tomatoes, but it was enough, in its own way.

XXX

"Deep breaths. You're okay."

He was not okay.

He had not been in this much pain in a while. The lieutenant's hand rubbed circles between his shoulder blades as he sat hunched over his new best friend, the beloved ice pack, and gasped at the floor. The nurse had recommended that he lay down for a while, at least until the new pain had faded into the background with the rest, but Edward had not been willing to wait. He had been eager to move on to the next part of this routine, hoping the promised trip to the bakery would chase off the persistent burning and itching, but his body had made its decision.

"Good morning, Fullmetal. I've been told - ah, I see."

Edward growled at the colonel he couldn't see, a growl that ended in a sucked breath at the fresh spike that speared below his ribs.

"Here, kiddo, let's get you lying down. Come on," Mustang's hands appeared beneath his arms and lifted him from his sitting position and draped him along the cot. The gasping turned into panting as he was moved. Roy's hand stayed on his arm after he'd been re-situated.

"How about you tell us what you want from the bakery and I'll send someone to get it?"

"No. Don' wanna stay."

"Edward, give yourself a minute to rest," Riza said from above him. "Don't push yourself. You'll only end up hurting yourself."

"Plus, I don't think you have much of a choice," Roy said ruefully, giving Ed's arm an encouraging pat. "When I got to this point, I was down for an hour. Trying to hurry it up makes it worse."

Edward gave his answer in the form of a growl and a second, even shorter attempt to get up. Mustang gave him another pat. "Sorry, kiddo, but I think the only way you're getting out of here anytime soon is if someone carries you."

Roy didn't realize what he had done until he had done it, but it what had been said could not be unsaid and the thought in Riza's eyes could not be unthought.

XXX

"I could take a turn, Colonel sir, if you get tired."

"It's fine, Alphonse," Mustang grunted, hiking Edward's legs up with a bounce. The ice pack was cold on his spine and he could feel the melt and condensation soaking through his clothes.

"Faster," Edward said into his ear for the fifth time. Roy took a deep breath and forced himself into an awkward sprint, Ed giggling at how his superior officer was now under his command. Roy couldn't keep up the pace for long and had to slow down after only a few paces, huffing and puffing.

"Faster."

"Give me a minute, Fullmetal, you're heavy."

"Colonel, are you sure -"

"It's fine, Alphonse," Hawkeye said this time from where she was walking beside him. "It was his idea, after all."

Hayate thought it was a wonderful idea. Every few minutes, his mistress's favorite person would start running and Hayate, naturally, would put on a burst of speed to match. Having extra legs, the dog would always win, even if there was never any designated finish line.

"Faster."

Roy grumbled something about, "stupid, genius me" and threw himself into a jog.

XXX

"A muffin. Two muffins. And hot chocolate."

"Do you have bacon sandwiches?" Roy asked, his back bowed under the weight he was carrying.

The woman behind the counter kept glancing between Mustang's uniform, Edward's triumphant face peeking over his shoulder, and the looming armor behind them.

"Um… yes, sir. Do you want an egg and cheese on your sandwich and will those muffins be blueberry or chocolate?"

"One of each, please," Roy said at the same time Edward said, "Both."

"I'll have an egg on my sandwich. Actually, make it two sandwiches," Roy added after glancing behind him at his lieutenant. "What kinds of coffee do you have? You don't need any," he said to the face over his shoulder when Ed opened his mouth to give his opinion. Edward frowned and drove his knee into Roy's ribs. Roy grunted and purposefully let his arms go slack.

"Oh no, Fullmetal, I seem to be losing my - aack!" Edward, out of reflex rather than malice, wrapped his arms around Roy's neck to keep from falling. Instead, Roy ended up tumbling down after him, barely managing to avoid landing on top of him and squashing him.

"All right, Alphonse," Roy mumbled from where he lay on the floor, a genuinely surprised Edward next to him, "it's your turn."

XXX

They had the foresight to give him the aspirin before the fever reared its head, keeping it from showing itself in the first place.

With his mind non-muddled, Edward took the time to catch up on the research he'd been falling behind on. Without really knowing why, he found himself looking for "virus" and "rabies" in the index of a volume called The Unsolved Mysteries of Life.

"Umm… Colonel… did you know this?"

"Know what, Fullmetal?" Roy asked disinterestedly from his desk where he was reading and signing papers. Edward was lying on the sofa in his office, a fresh ice pack against his stomach and a half-eaten muffin in his hand.

"'The idea of the virus comes from the ancient belief that diseases are caused by spirits poisoning mortal bodies with the intent to die - indeed, the very word means poison in Xerxesian,'" Edward read out loud from the book. "'While the theory of spiritual malice is obviously nonsensical, the true methodology, objective, and very form of these poisons are unknown. One such unclassified substance is the cause of the infamous Raging Death, or as we know it, viral rabies.'"

Now Roy was interested. He had set his pen down, bracing his elbows on the desk and crossing his fingers to rest his chin upon them. Edward looked up from the book, his expression a mixture of fascination and a strange kind of hope.

"Something that just… comes from nowhere and starts killing. What if there's an opposite? Something that makes life come from nowhere and just… exist?"

"You're talking about the theory of spontaneous generation," Mustang said, remembering one of his earliest lessons from Master Hawkeye. "That theory was disproven about… 100 years ago by Andre Berger."

"Andre Berger," Edward tasted the word in his mouth, sensing the familiarity. "He's a… bio-alchemist, right?"

"That's right. He studied sicknesses and where they come from. I think he was from Creta, originally, but he tended to wander around to study different local illnesses."

Roy saw the thought pass through Ed's mind and across his face. Roy often had the same thought when he thought of his parents, who had died of tuberculosis when Roy was too young to remember them. Just like Roy, Edward shook his head to banish the pointless wondering and returned to the present.

"The law of equivalent exchange makes it the whole principle of spontaneous generation impossible. It was dumb to begin with."

"Don't be so harsh, Fullmetal. Remember, people didn't always know about atoms and molecules and germs. To them, it really did look like life just randomly happened. It wasn't until Berger used his swan flasks to show that life can only happen where life's already there that people knew about bacteria and other germs."

"Swan flasks? Did they look like swans or something?" Edward took a bite out of his muffin, bits of chocolate sticking to his face. Roy fought the instinct to the cross the room and wipe them away.

"Yes, actually. They had curved necks to keep any spores or germs from falling into the fertilizer inside. That way, he could prove that the only reason why mold grew in the one that it did was because he mixed scrapings into the fertilizer before he put it in the flask. The other one just had fertilizer because there was no way for anything to get into the flask with the neck blocking the way."

It took Edward a minute to picture it.

"Do you think… do you think if they found out where the virus was coming from… they might be able to use it? Like the way they use penicillin for infections?"

Roy considered it.

"I don't see why not. In fact, how about I make it your assignment for now."

Edward made a face that told Roy that he had already been doing that, but appreciated the afflatus.

XXX

"While I appreciate your dedication, sir, I would rather that you use your Sunday the way it was meant to be," Riza said when she checked on them later. Alphonse followed behind her with a stack of books in his arms.

"Guess what I found, Brother?"

"Is it anything like what I found?"

"What did you find?"

"The guy who found out about viruses. Like rabies."

The brothers studied each other.

"Andre Burger?"

"Yup."

"Bio-alchemist who disproved spontaneous generation?"

"Mhm."

"Invented the rabies vaccine using dried rabbit spines?"

"Yeah - wait, what?"

Alphonse unloaded his books onto the sofa. Edward grabbed the first one and felt his brows raise into his hairline.

"Whoa… I mean, it's not the original, but wow!"

"The original is in Cretan so, unless you remember any of the words Dad taught us…"

Ed's nose wrinkled at the thought of his father and he ended the subject by opening the book in his hands. Whatever he found there, it made his face go pale.

"Oh… oh, I thought you were joking."

"What did you find?" Mustang got up from his paperwork and joined them beside the sofa. Ed handed him the book, open to a page that listed what looked like a recipe.

It was a recipe.

It was a recipe for making a serum from the spinal cord of a rabbit.

Roy had watched and even participated in several animal skinnings, so he didn't need to try hard to imagine butchering a slathering rodent, cutting out its vertebrae and stringing up the rope of bones and nerves to dry in the sun like strips of jerky.

He didn't want to imagine the process of crushing the dried cords into powdered, mixing them into formaldehyde to keep rot away, and then injecting the potion into someone's stomach.

So when he had gotten the shots himself all all those years ago…

Roy felt suddenly ill.

"Formaldehyde is harmless in small, controlled doses," Alphonse mused. "But they should probably find an alternative, just to be safe."

"I don't know that there's any way to make this 'safe,' Alphonse," Roy said, handing the book back to Edward, who hurriedly set aside like there was a chance it might bite him.

"It's certainly safer than letting the wound fester," Riza commented, standing over the opposite side of the sofa to read the recipe, albeit upside-down. "The vaccine may be awful, but the alternative is worse."

"But if the spirits - or whatever is causing the virus can be caught inside the rabbit and cut out…" Alphonse said, bringing them back to the task at hand.

"It's like soul alchemy," Edward realized, his eyes brightening at the prospect. He snatched the rejected book and flipped through pages. "We have to look into this. If there are ways to capture and transfer life… Think of the possibilities! Al, this could be it!"

"Don't get your hopes up, Brother."

Edward frowned, refusing to let his excitement be quashed.

"It's our job as alchemists to pursue any and every possible outcome. It would be irresponsible not to follow this. Come on, help me find about virus-soul-stuff."

XXX

Roy wrote the letter while pretending Edward's face was no mushed into his leg.

He had also pretended not to hear the small noise Ed had made during his evening treatment, something between a kicked dog and a wet kitten. He hadn't pretended not to notice the way he'd clung to Mustang long after it was over because he'd brought his arms around the boy and held him, waiting for the worst of the new pain to leave. Edward had pushed him away as soon as he'd been able, but he'd needed help to stand and more help to limp out of the infirmary. The nurse had even offered to let him stay the night if he needed to. If anything, the offer had only motivated Edward to get out of the infirmary as soon as he no longer needed to stop for pain.

He got impatient and insisted they leave before then. Guessing this would happen, Riza had offered to drive them to Roy's house so that their journey home wouldn't have to be waylaid by Ed needing to stop every few minutes.

Edward had taken more aspirin, per their new routine and was now trying to sleep off the remainder of the aching and burning. It didn't seem to be working because he kept rolling over, grunting when the movement bothered his stomach. Roy absently rested his arm on Ed's shoulder as he read over what he'd written. Ed sighed drowsily and pushed closer into the couch.

Roy doubted anything would come of this - surely this was a message the physicians behind the vaccines received all the time, whether from ingratiated patients or university professors or even schoolteachers - but the hope in Edward's eyes had been a sight Roy didn't want to see smolder away. If this would help the brothers further their progress, Roy was willing to make a fool for himself for a few minutes.

"Alphonse, could you do me a favor?"

Alphonse looked up from the volume he was reading.

"Sure. What is it?"

"Could you post this? I'm a bit… stuck right now." Roy nodded at Edward, who was still doing his best to sleep and giving away that he was awake with the squirming toes of his left foot.

"Of course, sir." Alphonse took the proffered envelope and made his way to the front door, opening it and dropping the letter into the metal postbox nailed to the outside of the house.

If he noticed the address, and he did, he didn't show it beyond a curious pause and a thoughtful "hmm."

I noticed a couple of mistakes in the last chapter, so I fixed them.

I had pizza for lunch and now my stomach hurts because I have acid reflux.