Chapter eleven
Ed was scared. His arm was making him nauseous with the pain. He was weak and vulnerable and he couldn't defend himself and he was going back to a hospital and what if it was really damaged and he lost his left arm too? He couldn't move it and it looked so wrong after all.
He really wanted to cry, but he couldn't because then Al would begin crying and then it would really be like that night.
Ed tried to just focus on breathing calmly, even if it hurt. He knew losing his arm had been a lot worse, but the body kind of both remembered and didn't remember it. He remembered it having been the worst pain he had ever experienced, but he his memories really only consisted of his thoughts abound it. Right now, however, his arm was hurting a lot. He didn't want to be here. He was scared. He was scared and Mustang was here just like that night.
"Okay, boys, what happened?" Riza asked, looking worried. She wasn't angry, but she probably would be. Mom had told them that they shouldn't do that after all.
"We were jumping on the couch and then Brother lost his balance and fell on his arm," Al explained quietly. "We're sorry, we shouldn't have done it, it just looked so fun!" Then Al began crying. He began sobbing actually.
Ed didn't care that his arm hurt like it did. Al was scared and he was crying and he was all that Ed had left.
And so he moved himself over to his little brother and leant his right side against him, even if he couldn't hug him.
Then Ed began crying too. He couldn't stop himself. It just wasn't fair! They were just having fun and then they weren't and now Ed was in pain and Al was crying.
And Ed just wanted Mom to be here and give them a hug and make everything all right again.
But Mom wasn't here.
They were alone.
Ed didn't want to go to the hospital. Hospitals were bad and they were filled with agony and strangers and syringes and they all pitied him.
And now Ed would be a freak with no arms working and he just wanted everything to be like it had been. He just wanted to be happy with Mom and have both his arms and now his only arm was broken and it hurt.
He didn't even listen to what Riza and Mustang were saying. It didn't matter because Al was still crying and Ed was still in pain.
Then he felt a warm hand on his cheek. It was a lot like Mom's. But it didn't smell like her. It smelt like Riza and Ed didn't know what to do because it was warm and everything was hurting. And he just wanted to go to sleep and not have his arm broken. But it wasn't right that the hand was there, but he'd also be really unkind to her if he snapped at her and he'd felt bad the last time and his arm was hurting.
"Don't," he whispered.
The hand didn't care. It began gently drying his tears away instead. "Listen, Edward, it will be okay. We'll help you and they're going to help you get rid of the pain."
"Are they gonna take it too?" Ed found himself asking before he stop himself.
"Of course not, Ed. They're just going to take an X-ray and put it in a cast. They've had plenty of fractures a lot worse than that, and they've still managed to fix them."
Ed really hoped that she wasn't lying. He hated this. He felt so weak. He couldn't use his only arm. He'd need help with everything. And it hurt. His arm was hurting and he felt so sick and it was just stupid!
"I'm not weak, dammit!" Ed growled and shook his head to get the hand away, causing another spike of pain from his arm. But he couldn't let himself be weak. He couldn't because he needed to look after Al and that was his responsibility now that Mom was gone. "I don't want anybody's help!"
The hand reached for him again and Ed moved away, making him yelp because of the pain that shot up his arm once more. "Stop it! I don't need it!"
This was all too much like that night, except that Riza was here and she was talking about helping him. But nothing good ever came out of getting help now that Mom was gone.
Al might trust Riza and say that she wasn't like the others, but he couldn't know that yet. Ed wasn't going to let himself be weak.
He wasn't.
No matter how much his arm was hurting.
But he was still scared.
He had to focus hard on not crying any more. Al needed him to be strong. He blocked out every single sound around him and just focused on breathing. On taking the pain.
He felt like he was about to puke as they finally reached the local A&E, and Al helped him get out of the car. Alphonse was the only one he could trust to help him. And so he let him keep his hands on Ed's right shoulder and on his back for support.
Ed froze as they walked through the front door. It smelt like a hospital. He felt a wave of emotions slam into his body.
It's gone and it hurts and Mom's gone and she's dead. My arm's not there and Mom's not there because she's dead and Barry killed her and she was just-
"Let me cut you into little pieces!"
"Brother! Stay with me!" Al's voice said next to him.
"Edward, your arm is only broken. You're not dying. You're just having a flashback."
That's Mustang? But if he's saying that I'm not dying then I'm okay, right?
Ed looked down at his his right stump. Barry wasn't here. Al wasn't covered in blood. He was safe. Both Riza and Mustang were kneeling down in front of him.
"I'm fine," Ed said. He suddenly felt like he was helpless. "I'm fine! Just leave me alone and go speak to the nurse or something! Just go!" His arm was throbbing a lot again, but this time it made him angry because he'd let himself be weak in front of Al. "Go!"
Al didn't know what to do right now. Ed and Riza had just left to get an X-ray and to get treated by the doctor, and so Al was left in the waiting room together with Mr Mustang. Al just stared at his feet. His stomach began rumbling. It had been a long time since breakfast. The large clock on the wall had said three o'clock the last time he had looked at it.
"Would you like something from the snack machines?" Mr Mustang asked him.
"I don't need it, sir." Al was still looking at his feet.
"How long has it been since you last ate?"
"About six hours, sir." Al knew that you shouldn't lie to the police, even if he didn't feel like he should accept. Mr Mustang had already been more than kind enough and had even agreed to be looking after Al while Ed and Riza were gone.
"Then you need something to eat. We're still going to have to stay here for some time after all. You just wait here for a minute and I'll be right back."
And so Al did as he was told. He was worried about Brother. If he wouldn't be able to use his arm much, then he was going to need a lot of help. Al would of course do what he could, but it was still going to be difficult. And Brother was going to hate it. Al couldn't even imagine what it must be like. Probably not much better than wearing a straitjacket.
Al heard footsteps approaching and suddenly a bag of crisps appeared on his lap. He looked up at Mr Mustang and shook his head slightly. "I can't take this, you've already done so much for us, Mr Mustang."
The man just smiled kindly at him. "Alphonse, unlike you, I had lunch three hours ago. I don't need it and you're hungry. It's only fair that you eat it."
"Are you sure, sir?"
"A hundred per cent. Eat. And I also got you a little treat." He took out a bottle of chocolate milk that he had been hiding behind his back and gave it to Al with a kind smile.
Al's eyes grew wide. He only got chocolate milk on his birthdays, usually. They had never had it otherwise because of Ed's intense hatred of milk so it would almost have been like they had beenteasing him if they had bought it.
"Nan always got me chocolate milk when I had to go to the hospital when I was small."
"But I'm not the one who's injured, Mr Mustang?"
"No, but a hospital is a hospital and I'll buy Ed a treat when he's done."
"Why would you do that for us, sir?"
"Because I feel like it, Alphonse. And please call me Roy, otherwise you sound like my colleagues."
"Oh! Sorry … Roy."
"Good. Now: eat."
And so Al did as he was told with a continuous muttering of thanks in between bites.
By the time Riza came back with Ed, his arm now in a cast, Al was playing hangman with Roy in his notebook.