Edward coughed and hacked, gripping the toilet bowl tightly as he vomited for the nth time that day. He was getting real sick of this shit. He was glad Al was out, at least. He'd only worry if he saw Ed like this.
Ed sat back up as his vomiting finally subsided, wiping the blood he'd spat up from his lips.
He looked down inside the toilet, glaring disdainfully. He scowled at the blue flower petals inside, as if that would make them somehow apologize for taking root in his lungs and tearing up his throat.
Hanahaki. He had fucking hanahaki. Great. Absolutely fucking wonderful. As if he didn't have enough on his plate as it was already, trying to find the philosopher's stone. No, he just had to start puking up stupid fucking flowers because of some sort of unrequited love. Just what he needed.
He had at first thought he had it for Winry, but quickly dismissed that idea. He couldn't explain how, but he just knew it wasn't for her. In fact, he didn't feel like it was romantic at all.
He remembered hearing once or twice before that platonic and familial hanahaki were a thing, but he'd never known for sure if that was true or not. They were said to be much rarer than their romantic counterpart; it wasn't too often those kinds of feelings were seen as unrequited.
It was just Edward's luck that he had to go and develop one of the rarer forms of hanahaki. Because why wouldn't he? The universe seemed to hate him, after all. Why not give him a case of hanahaki on top of everything else, make sure his life was just that much harder?
Fucking hell, he hated this.
He had a sinking feeling he knew who it was for. He loathed to admit it, but there was no use denying to himself. Not anymore. He had been growing to see the man as a sort of father figure, but he was intent on taking that to the grave.
It looked like he'd have to do that much sooner than he thought. He didn't want the surgery to cure it. As embarrassing as it was, he didn't want to lose those feelings for him. And there was no way be could possibly admit his feelings to the man in the hopes that they were returned, after all. No way would he ever see Ed like that.
Besides, how the hell could Edward ever admit that he saw his commanding officer as his father? The embarrassment would probably kill him faster than the hanahaki ever could, even if he did feel the same way. No, he couldn't say a word about this.
He'd just have to keep going on as if things were normal and hope he somehow got the philosopher's stone before the disease took him.
A month had gone by since he'd first spit up flower petals, and so far, he'd successfully kept his disease hidden from everyone. Including his doting younger brother. That certainly wasn't easy.
He kept his distance from Mustang and the team as much as he could since he first learned he had the disease, but he couldn't exactly do the same with Al. Not that he would even if it was a possibility. His brother needed him, and he wouldn't just abandon him, even if he was hiding from everyone else.
Of course, that made his brother the hardest to keep it from. They spent almost all day, every day together. He'd try and excuse himself to a bathroom whenever he felt the flowers creeping their way up his throat again, but it wasn't like he always had that warning. Sometimes he just had to try his best to hold them in until he had the chance to spit them discreetly in a bush or something and hope his brother didn't notice
He'd been successful so far, though, so he had to be doing something right.
He'd also gone from only puking petals to entire flowers at some point. His curiosity got the better of him one day, and he decided to try and find what kind of flower was infecting him in the first place. They were supposed to represent the person you had hanahaki for in some way, and though he was a bit afraid of the answer, he had to know what his flowers said about Mustang.
They were borage flowers. Little blue, star-shaped flowers that apparently represented courage, power, and bluntness. All of which seemed to fit Mustang best out of everyone he knew. It certainly left no doubt in his mind that his commanding officer was who he had the disease for.
Not that it mattered. He'd never admit it to Mustang anyway, so it was unimportant knowing who he had it for. He wouldn't tell a soul if he could help it.
He unfortunately would not get his way. He couldn't hide from Al forever, something he'd known deep down no matter how much he wanted to pretend otherwise.
They were walking back to their hotel from the library when it happened. He was discussing things he'd read with Al, all possible leads on the philosopher's stone, when he cut himself off abruptly and immediately stopped walking.
"Brother? Is something wrong?" Al asked tentatively. Ed barely heard him. He could feel the flowers making their way up his throat, seemingly more buds than usual. He could already tell this would be one of his worst spells yet.
"Brother? You're worrying me! What's wrong?" Al questioned a little more frantically when Ed hadn't answered the first time.
In lieu of a response, Ed fell to his knees, barely hearing Al's cry of "Brother!" at the sudden action. He braced himself on the ground with his arms as blood as borage forced their way out of his throat painfully.
The spell lasted for what felt like hours, though it was probably closer to a few minutes. He wasn't sure how many, though. More than five, definitely. It was one of his longer spells. One of the more painful ones, too. His throat felt like it was on fire as he kept heaving up the flowers.
He felt a giant metal hand on his back, rubbing gently the whole way through. It seemed to help. At the very least, it gave him something to focus on other than the damned flowers.
He didn't need to see his brother to know just how worried he must have been. Guilt ate at him. God, his brother had had no idea he was ill and now he was having to witness a particularly awful bout of sickness. Ed felt awful for doing this to him.
He pushed himself up as his attack ended, wiping his mouth. "Sorry, Al," he breathed out. "Didn't mean to worry you like that."
"Brother, you have hanahaki?" Al asked incredulously. "And you didn't tell me about it?"
There was the guilt again, rearing its ugly head. "I'm sorry Al. I should've, I know. I just didn't want to worry you." He kept his head down, unable to look his brother in the eye.
He heard a sigh emit from Al's armor. "I know you meant well, Brother, but please. Don't keep things like that from me." Ed didn't reply, simply hanging his head lower, but words weren't needed. He knew it was enough for Al to know he wouldn't pull something like this again.
"…Who do you have it for?" Al asked after they had lapsed into silence for a few moments. "Is it Winry?"
Ed felt his face heat at that. "No, no, it's not for her. It's not romantic hanahaki at all. N-not that I see her romantically or anything!" he stammered out. God damn it. Real smooth, Ed, he thought scathingly. Al gave him a look, and Edward knew he'd be raising an eyebrow skeptically at him if he had them.
He quickly moved on, eager to get past that awkward moment. "No, it's familial hanahaki. I…"
he trailed off. God, this was embarrassing. But he doubted Al would leave him alone until he knew everything.
"You what, Brother?" Al prompted when Ed had stopped talking. He felt his face heating up again and knew he was likely bright red. Fuck, he felt like he was going to die here of embarrassment instead of from his disease.
He carefully kept his gaze to the ground. "I have it for Mustang," he bit out. Never before had he wanted to crawl in a hole and die as much as he did right now.
"You have familial hanahaki…for Mustang?" Al asked. Ed refused to look up at him. "Wait, what exactly is he to you, anyway?
Ed hunched his shoulders. "He's like…he's like a father, okay?" he finally spat out, more than a little defensive. "I know it's stupid, but he's the only adult who's ever really been there for us since Mom died. Well, other than Granny, but that's different. It's nowhere near the same thing."
"I'm not judging you, Brother," Al said placatingly. "I get it. I've always kind of thought of him as a dad, too. I know our actual dad is probably out there somewhere still, but we haven't seen him in a while. Mustang's the closest thing we've had to that in a long time. It makes sense to think of him that way."
Ed didn't even bother arguing about Hohenheim not being their actual dad this time. Because Al actually understood. And somehow related to it, as well. He admittedly felt a little lighter now that his younger brother knew everything and reacted so well to it.
Al offered him his hand, helping him stand up before they continued on their way to the hotel. "So what are you gonna do?" he asked. "Are you gonna tell Mustang? Or are you just gonna go straight for the surgery?"
"…I don't know yet, Al," he replied after a moment. It wasn't a lie. Neither option was what he wanted, but he certainly didn't want to die, either. Especially not before he'd gotten Al back into his body. "I'm still trying to figure that out."
"Okay. Just…don't wait too long to make a decision, okay? I don't want you to get any worse."
"Yeah. I'll try not to, Al." He wanted to make good on that promise, but he wasn't exactly sure how. He didn't think he'd ever know what to do about this. He could worry about that later, though.
For now, he was just happy he didn't have to hide from his brother anymore.
Another two months had passed and Ed's hanahaki was getting worse. His attacks became harsher and more frequent, and the flowers he spat up were always in full bloom. He missed the days he only vomited petals.
Al was growing increasingly worried for Ed's condition, urging him to either confess to Mustang or go ahead and get the surgery. He was still torn, however. He didn't know what he wanted to do. Every option before him seemed like a bad one.
They had just come back from Liore, once again failing to retrieve the philosopher's stone. At least they stopped Cornello. And they had seen proof of the philosopher's stone for themselves, proof that it existed. It wasn't a complete waste of time.
Now all he had to do was report to Colonel Bastard and he'd be done. He and Al could get back to searching for the philosopher's stone.
He stopped in front of the Colonel's door, kicking it open as hard as he could. He ignored the flowers in his lungs that protested his action, threatening to come back up and choke him.
"Hey, Colonel Bastard! I'm back!" Ed called as he made his way inside.
"Yes, I can see that, Fullmetal. Your entrances are hard to miss," Mustang replied drily.
Edward rolled his eyes in response. "Here you go, bastard. I've got my report." He practically threw his paper on the colonel's desk. "Can I go now?" He needed out of there, fast. He could feel another attack coming on, knew he'd be coughing up borage any moment.
"Not yet, Fullmetal. Give me a chance to read through your report. I've gotta make sure it's actually legible, after all."
Ed scowled. It wasn't his fault his dominant hand was metal! He couldn't write with automail and it was fucking hard to write left-handed, damn it! He couldn't help that he didn't have the best handwriting!
"Wow, your report is surprisingly coherent. Unexpected coming from you," Mustang teased. Bastard. Ed opened his mouth to retort, but was stopped by the feeling of flowers crawling up his throat. Fuck.
He fell to his knees and started choking, trying desperately to keep the flowers in. The bastard could not know he had hanahaki, damn it. Especially not that he had it for him.
"Fullmetal?" the colonel asked in alarm. He stood up from his desk, rushing over to Ed.
"D-don't need your help, b-bastard," Ed managed to get out between coughs. He was about to try and say more, but was stopped by the flowers spilling out of his mouth.
Damn it all to hell. There goes his secret. Because of fucking course he'd start puking up flowers in front of Mustang. The world fucking hated him.
"…Fullmetal?" Colonel asked again, sounding much more unsure. "Are those…flowers? Do you have hanahaki?"
"W-what does it look like, d-dipshit?" Ed retorted, still struggling to speak as he kept hacking up flowers. Fucking hell, this felt like it would never end.
He felt the colonel's hand make its way onto his back and the only thing stopping him from yelling in protest was the flowers. If he was honest, it helped, but no way in hell was he telling Colonel Bastard that.
His spell finally subsided and he sat back up and wiped his mouth, glaring at the bloody flowers he just spat up. Fucking pieces of shit. Stupid fucking flowers were ruining everything.
"Fullmetal, are you okay?" Colonel asked, sounding very concerned. It felt wrong. He'd never heard that kind of tone from the bastard before. Especially not towards him.
"I'm fine." Ed stood up. "Can I go now? I've really gotta get back to Al."
"Absolutely not. Not after you just spat up flowers all over my floor. How long have you even had hanahaki for, anyway?"
Ed scowled. "Three months. As if that even matters. Is that all?"
"Three months? And you haven't said anything? Haven't even applied for medical leave? Are you even getting treatment?"
What the hell did the bastard care so much for, anyway? "I don't need medical leave, bastard. What I need is to leave this stupid office already. Can I go yet?"
"Are you going to get the surgery? Or confess to whoever you have it for?"
"I don't know! Does it fucking matter, anyway? It's not any of your business in the first place!"
"You're my subordinate. Any problem of yours is my business." Fucking hell, he was gonna be stuck here forever. "Who is it for? Is it that mechanic friend of yours? I mean, you like her, don't you?"
Now Ed was really starting to get pissed. "Why does everyone think that? I don't like Winry like that!" Mustang fixed him in place with an unimpressed stare, disbelief more than evident in his face. "Besides, even if I did - which I don't - it's not romantic hanahaki, anyway! It's fucking familial! Not that that's any of your business."
"Non-romantic hanahaki is so rare, though," Mustang replied, frowning. He sighed. "Of course, if anyone would get it, it'd be you, Fullmetal. Why am I not surprised?"
"The hell is that supposed to mean?" Ed demanded. Colonel Bastard ignored him, pushing on with his interrogation.
"Who do you have it for?" he asked again. "I need to know."
"No the fuck you don't!" Edward protested. "It doesn't concern you, so fucking drop it already!" It did, of course, concern him, but Mustang didn't need to know that.
"Fullmetal, I'm concerned about you. I'm just trying to help, so please. Tell me," Mustang answered. Fuck, he'd never heard the bastard talk so softly before. He didn't know how to feel about it. Why the hell did he care so much?
"Fullmetal," he prompted again, trying to get Ed to respond. Stupid, stubborn bastard. Why did he have to make Ed's life so difficult?
He wasn't going to get out of here without confessing, was he? Stupid bastard would probably be able to tell if Ed lied, too. Fuck it. He didn't have much of a choice. God, he hated this.
"I have it for fucking you," Ed spat out, anger heating his voice. "Happy?"
Mustang blinked uncomprehendingly at his words, not saying a word. It only served to make Ed angrier. He felt his eyes burning.
"Don't give me that look, bastard! I know it's stupid!" Tears were running down his face now. He hated it, but he couldn't stop them from coming. "But I see you like a father, okay?! That's why I didn't wanna tell you! I already know you'd never feel the same way!"
Before he could say anything else, he felt arms wrap around him. Mustang was hugging him. He felt even more tears brimming in his eyes before flooding his face. He buried his face in the man's shoulder, sobbing freely.
"Fullmetal, kid, it's okay." He was rubbing his back now. "I had no idea you felt the same way, but I'm glad."
"…The same way?" Edward asked tentatively, afraid to even hope.
"Fullmetal, kid, you're like a son to me. But I never thought you'd ever see me like…well, like a father, so I didn't say anything. I didn't expect you to have hanahaki for me of all people."
"Then, that means…my hanahaki should go away, right?" Ed asked hopefully.
"Yeah, kid. It will." Mustang squeezed him tighter. Ed let himself relax into the man's grip, finally returning his hug. His lungs felt lighter, less full of flowers already.
His hanahaki was going away. Mustang loved him like a son. Edward had figured this would either end in his death or with him getting the surgery, losing his feelings forever. It was a situation that could only end in loss. But neither of those things had happened. No, it had gone much better than he ever could have hoped.
He'd gained something instead.
For the first time in over a decade, Edward finally had a father who loved him.
