Hiii. It's been a while. Haven't updated in a whiiile.
So for those who haven't looked at my profile for updates (I do an update thing now), I've been working a lot on CP and pretty much neglecting my other stories. I've looked over Forced, and I've honestly tried writing the end, but the muse just ISN'T there, I tried. Not gonna give up entirely, but I'll probably end up editing most of the chapters, adding stuff, taking out stuff, changing a bit of stuff around, and then I'll probably get the muse back for it.
And for those who have me on Author Alert you'll have noticed I started a Rurouni Kenshin fic! So many years of just FMA and I finally ventured out into another fiction. It's based on the Kenshin from the OVA Trust and Betrayal, so if you're interested...:p Hopefully it'll start getting better, that's what I plan on.
I have multiple chapters done for CP, I have SO MANY plans for CP, it's insane. I just have to go over the chapters and fix them up a bit. I'm sorry if there's any plot holes or sped up parts, I really am. Once it's finished, or near finished like Forced, I'll give it a run down and fix everything up.
So here's an extra long chapter for you guys! Enjoy! The lovely Kibster edited most of this, but I wrote some more onto it, so if there's anything wrong with the grammar it's most likely where I added stuff in! Sorry about that. I don't have my grammar nazi with me at the moment so I decided to just slap this up here.
ONCE AGAIN, ENJOY!
Aphid idly flipped through a book of Al's, sitting on one of the large beds which all of the small children in the hotel shared. The small, printed words on the page held little interest for Aphid as he read them without taking them in, their words holding almost no meaning. He wanted to enjoy the books like Al did, but he just couldn't keep his attention on them; his mind would wander off, thinking about other things. He often stole Kevin's comics, but he couldn't keep them for long because Kevin had this weird sense that something was missing from his room and he'd just know Aphid had taken them, like some strange sixth sense. That left him with Al's books. How could anyone read books without pictures? It was so boring.
This book was about some sort of hobbit, whatever that was. Al said it looked like a little person with big hairy feet, but Aphid wasn't so sure that even existed. And every time he picked up this book he couldn't be bothered to read for more than five pages.
The other children were running about the hotel, although they were all restricted to the top floor because of the new Brat'ja members (Aphid had always thought that was a weird name for a gang). It seemed to him that there were a lot less kids than before, probably because Jeremy and Winry would take them to the orphanage as soon as they were well enough and able to take care of themselves. Although the orphanage was a better place for them, as Winry told him many times, the Boss said that they had to have "survival skills" before he let them out of his protection. All Aphid could imagine when he heard him talk about survival skillswas a bunch of kids lost in the woods at night, since that's the only time he'd ever read about needing survival skills - when you were lost in the woods. The only time Aphid had ever seen a forest was in pictures of old books, so it wasn't like he was going to get lost anytime soon.
Whenever Aphid did question the Boss though, he told him he needed the survival skills to withstand the city world because the people in the city were a lot more dangerous and scary than some monster in the forest that ate bad children... but Aphid could never understand how.
Aphid frowned at the open book as he realized that he had been rereading the same sentence over and over again. Sliding out his bottom lip into a pout, he remembered he was supposed to be mad at the Boss, but he still couldn't help but want attention from the older blond. Why did he have to treat him like a little kid all the time? He wasn't thatyoung!
A sudden knock at the door had Aphid slamming the book in his hands shut and hiding it under a blanket, fearful of being caught with one of Alphonse's books. Trying to look innocent, he folded his arms and watched the door open as a blonde head poked around the wood.
And it wasn't Winry.
"Hey, bud, what're you doing?" Fullmetal asked, trying a weak grin at the pouting child sitting on the bed with his arms crossed angrily.
"Reading," Aphid snapped, looking away.
The older blond shook his head as he walked into the room, closing the door behind him, eyes searching the bed around Aphid. "How come I don't see any books?" he replied casually, then noticed the lump under the blanket with a raised eyebrow. "You're not into Al's books again, are ya? Did you ask?"
Not answering, Aphid gave the Boss a courageous glare, but then quickly looked at the ground. Even though the gang leader made Aphid feel safe, he was still too scared to confront him. Aphid had never been good at fights - even fighting with the Boss a few days ago came out of nowhere and surprised Aphid himself. But the small boy couldn't help it. His anger was starting getting the best of him.
"Well, if you're not gonna say anything, I'll just talk to you, okay?"
Aphid continued to act like he was ignoring the Boss as the older man walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking over his shoulder at the smaller boy. Aphid glanced up and was immediately startled by the Boss's appearance. His usually neat braid was falling out of its tie and strands were dangling down his throat, his hair frizzy at the crown of his head as though he had been sleeping with the same braid for days. Black circles marred his eyelids and the tiredness shone through as he wearily shot Aphid a small smile.
"Are you okay, Boss? You look sick," Aphid said, dropping his angry act and crawling across the bed to sit next to Fullmetal.
"I'm a little tired, but I'll be okay. But I wanted to apologize for the other day..."
Aphid felt bad for the state the older blond was in, he couldn't continue being mad even if he wanted to. It was scaring him, the state the Boss was in. What could be wrong?
"It's okay... Are you dying? You look like those zombies in Kevin's comic books."
The Boss chuckled as he ruffled the hair on top of Aphid's head, grinning. "No, I'm not dying. I feel like a zombie, though."
Reaching up and pulling the tie from his hair, Fullmetal tried, in vain, to untangle his hair. Aphid wasn't sure why he kept it so long. He only saw girls with long hair. But the Boss was far from being a girl. He was the furthest from a girlAphid had ever seen. Aphid had seen some girly guys, even with short hair, but the Boss was never girly. Maybe the hair didn't matter as much? Maybe it was the way the gang leader acted.
The small boy, with his ear length dirty blond hair, found the older man's long braid to be cool. He would never admit it out loud, but he was secretly growing his own hair out, to be just like the Boss's. Aphid could get a little tuft of hair in an elastic band, but that was it, it was nowhere near as cool-looking as the Boss's.
"Well, I wanted to ask a favor of you. I was wondering if you'd be up to going to tell Winry, Al, Kevin, and Jeremy that I want them to meet me in my room in one hour? I'm going to go try to get some sleep - " Fullmetal paused, yawning widely. Aphid stared curiously at the faint sprinkling of darker short hairs growing on the Boss's jaw and chin. Aphid was wondering vaguely how he had hair growing on his face when his train of thought was interrupted.
"Could you do that for me? I'd probably feel a lot better," the Boss finished, scratching his jaw. Aphid tried not to stare.
"Why is there hair on your face? I've seen other people with hair on their face, but you've never had hair," he asked, using all his self control not to gawk at the older man. Winry had told him it was rude to stare a couple weeks ago, especially at strangers.
Confounded for a few seconds, Fullmetal suddenly rolled his eyes, and started grinning, "Aphid, that's because I shave. I haven't for awhile, but that doesn't mean I don't grow facial hair ever."
"When will I grow hair on my face?"
"You're not missing out on anything, bud. Probably in a few years. Now are you going to do me that favor or not?"
"I will," Aphid answered, absently rubbing his own cheek. How many years was a few years?
Scooping up the rest of his hair with one hand, the Boss stood up and used his automail hand to tie the elastic hair band around the thick blond strands in a ponytail, looking down at Aphid, still grinning.
"Don't worry about hitting puberty yet, pal. You got a long ways to go. And trust me, you aren'tgonna like it."
"Puberty- ?"
"Just go tell the guys to meet me in my room in an hour, will you?" the Boss said suddenly, awkwardly as he turned away from Aphid quickly and walked towards the door.
"Yes, sir!" the boy chirped, running past Fullmetal and beating him to the door as he zipped out into the hallway. Ready to start his important mission, the small boy first went for Winry's bedroom on the third floor, excited to please the Boss.
Ed didn't get a wink of sleep in the hour he had before the higher ranking Brat'ja showed up. He just waited, sitting at the end of his bed, supporting his head with his hand as he rested his elbow on his knee. He should have known that he wouldn't get any sleep at all and would inevitably just end up staring at the ceiling for the majority of the time.
At least he had a bit of time to think.
Ed knew how horrible he looked as everyone started showing up one by one, saying nothing but giving Ed a concerned glance. Well, everyone except for Kevin, who made a sneering comment about how he'd seen old hags at the bar look better. Ignoring the jibe as Kevin plopped down next to him, Ed rubbed his face with his flesh hand as he waited for everyone to take a seat.
Winry sat on the bed on the other side of Ed and he could tell without looking that she was giving him a worried stare. He could already feel her blue eyes scanning him, looking at all the signs of fatigue he was undoubtedly showing.
"Alright, updates, now. I'm not exactly in the best of moods, guys," Ed stated tersely as Al entered the room, light eyebrows curving upwards as he took in his brother's condition.
"We've still got the H.A.E. under surveillance. He seems... calmer," Al started, staying in front of the door after he'd shut it behind him. The younger brother had always hated the silences during these meetings they had. Ed had known he'd be the first to talk.
"Wait, what? An H.A.E? Since when did we have an H.A.E?" Kevin butted in, glancing disbelievingly at Ed and then back to Al. "When the hell did this happen?"
"This is what these meetings are for, Kevin. To catch dipshits like you up to pace," Ed snapped, giving Kevin a hard shove with his elbow. Looking over at Winry he asked, "Did you disable his tracking chip, Win?"
"Of course I did, we have to get yours disabled soon too, if you want to keep the other surviving H.A.E's from finding us."
"Anything on border patrol, Jeremy?" Ed swiveled over to the big figure towering next to Al. Jeremy shook his head, remaining silent with his hands in his jean pockets.
"Well, since no one has anything else to share, I have my own problem," Ed sighed, shaking his head. "It's a real bigproblem too - "
There was a small knock at the door that made Al jump and twist around, looking at the door. Checking over his shoulder and getting a nod from Ed, Al pulled the door open cautiously. Tensing in alarm, he quickly backed up, hand flashing to his pocket ready to wrench out a knife.
"Who are you?!"
"It's fine, Al. Let him in," Ed said, standing up and crossing his arms across his chest as he glared at the Xingese man grinning in the doorway.
Ling stepped past the perplexed Al into the room, waving at everyone. "Hello, everybody!"
"Who the hell is that?!" Kevin barked, jumping up from the bed and glaring at the intruder. "What's he doing upstairs?!"
"Everyone, meet Ling Yao... our new... brother."
"I do not speak Amestrian well, but I will get better!" Ling conceded, smiling widely.
"Ling?! What's he doing here?!" Winry shouted, shoving past Ed and glaring daggers at Ling, who was still grinning like a shark beside Al. The younger brother was looking very uncomfortable with the Xingese man standing so close to him.
"Ling and I have a deal," Ed huffed, "For now, he'll be a part of the Brat'ja, but he isn't a part of this circle. So, Ling, if you could leave. These meetings are meant to be private and eavesdropping can get you killed - "
"Wait a minute... Ling Yao? As in... the Prince of Xing,Ling Yao?" Kevin asked, his eyebrows rising up.
"Yes, that's another thing I want to talk about, as soon as the Prince leaves," Ed growled, his irritation growing. Ling merely gave another toothy grin to Ed and bobbed his head up and down.
"Okay, I'll go! But I'll see you at dinner, yes?"
"Of course, we'll be down in a little bit." Gritting his teeth, Ed felt a little relieved to see Ling leave the room without much of a fuss. Al moved around the door and made sure Ling was gone before shutting the door and locking it.
"I'm starting to think we should get this room soundproofed," Al said, looking over at Ed with a sharp glare. "But first things first, when do you ever allow a stranger in this room? Especially during a meeting!"
"Yeah, Fullmetal. Since when did you become so trusting and stupid enough to let him join?!" Winry yelled, fists clenching. She was obviously holding herself back for Ed's sake. Everyone was staring at Ed in disbelief with a hint of betrayal, wondering how in the world their leader had become so careless.
"He knows," Ed stated simply, a little irritated with the questioning looks. "He broke into my room last night, and he knows my full name, the history of the H.A.E. experiment... everything. I'm being blackmailed."
"Why didn't you just kick his ass?!" Kevin shrilled, looking terrified. "You never let people walk over you like this. Let's go get him now and make sure he doesn't talk -! "
"No. He's too... fast. And no doubt he's got back up. We can't risk it. I won't risk any of you." Shoulders sagging, the blond gang leader sat back down on the edge of his bed, rubbing the back of his neck. How am I meant to deal with this?
"What does he want? Did he say?" Al asked, moving across the room so he could kneel in front of his older brother. "You can't let him string you around. We've got to do something."
Looking up and giving Al an exasperated smile, Ed shook his head. "I've got it under control. I don't think he'll say anything. All he's interested in is... the H.A.E. experiment. And how many H.A.E's do you see not trying to kill everyone in sight, if you see one at all?"
"But other than bringing you back to those scumbags for profit, why else would he be interested in the H.A.E. experiment?" Winry pointed out. "How do you know he won't just bring you back there?"
"I don't know, Winry. But for now he just wants to stay in the Brat'ja gang and get information. I had to go through my whole damned history in the labs with him last night. He seems so interested."
"What if it's just that? Curiosity?" Al interjected.
"I highly doubt that it could be just curiosity. And if he wanted to bring me in for a reward, he could've done it last night. He's the Prince of Xing, why would he want money?"
"So he didn't tell you the real reason why he's here? I bet I could get the answer out of him - " Kevin started, grinning maliciously.
"No. I don't want any of you starting any fights. And don't try pissing him off, threatening him, killing him. Anything. For now we have more pressing matters. We need to take care of the spy - "
"You're not killing him, you don't need that sort of burden on your shoulders," Winry cut in, giving Ed a pleading look, "No matter what you do there's always going to be someonethat's going to try to betray you."
"I'm not going to kill him, Win. We'll just do the usual. I'll threaten him... scare him off. He's not exactly the biggest threat on our plate anyway, I guess," the Brat'ja leader murmured, looking down at the floor, feeling burned out.
"It'll be fine, dude. Why are you stressing so much about it? We're not gonna let anything happen to you, okay? Don't worry about going back to that place," Kevin said, trying to be comforting. "If you want I'lltake care of the rat."
"They'll think I'm too weak to take care of it myself. I'll be fine, Kevin. I'll do it."
A small boy, roughly ten years old, darted across the street, clutching an overflowing bag of goods to his chest. The dirty blond haired boy fled for the alleyway as a voice yelled for him to stop, calling him all sorts of obscenities, but Alphonse kept running, his small legs aching from the strain.
'Brother is going to kill me, he's going to kill me!'Al thought fretfully, trying to catch his breath as his lungs burned, choking on the dank air of the back alley.
Without slowing, he ran for the end of the alley, a wooden door located on the side of the back buildings of the city. Reaching out, he scrambled up the stone steps and nearly slipped as he grabbed the door handle, throwing the aging door open. He slammed the door shut behind him as he threw himself inside, wheezing as he latched the deadbolt lock on the door securely. He was sure that that man wouldn't follow him this far, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
Looking down at the goods he had stolen from the shop owner, he grinned, feeling successful. At the market, they had bags of bakery goods that weren't bought during the day and were either marked down in price or taken home by the baker. Nervous, but driven by hunger, Al had walked boldly into the supermarket, snagged the first bag and ran like his life depended on it... because it did. If he had been caught, he was sure he wouldn't survive the beating by the man that had ran out from behind the counter and chased after him. People didn't take kindly to thieves in this city, no matter what their age.
Nonetheless, he felt excited, his heart still beating rapidly in his chest. He had actually pulled off his first theft and got quite a sizable bag. Walking over to the table, darkened by age, he set the bag down. Glancing around the small room, he noticed his older brother's jacket was missing from its usual spot on the large nail protruding from the wall next to the door. Ed was still out. He'd still find out about Al leaving their small abode, given the large bag of bakery goods he'd stolen, but at least now he could hold off that argument for a little while.
The rules that were set by his older brother were strict. He wasn't allowed to leave the small back storage room of an old recreational center. Once the center's committee moved to a newer, bigger building, this one, along with the others on the street, were abandoned. Al was worried that soon the city would destruct the buildings and replace them, but Ed assured him that they wouldn't start demolition until the snow had gone in the Spring time.
Al also wasn't allowed to answer the door, as if anyone would knock on the door to an old storage shed. Wasn't allowed to talk to strangers, wasn't allowed to beg, and he was most certainly never, ever allowed to steal. That's what bugged Al the most about his protective older brother, he was so smothering. He acted as though Al couldn't pull off a theft.
Grinning, despite himself, Al went over to an old barrel stove they had saved from the dumpster a few months ago and opened the little door on the front. The fire was burning lowly, a mere red glow in its bedding of paper pellets. Reaching for the small rusted bucket placed next to the stove, he picked it up and starting grabbing handfuls of the gray pellets, throwing them into the fire. Slowly, the red embers caught to the fresh material and sparked a blaze, a merry fire igniting in the barrel.
Closing the door to the barrel stove, Al rubbed his arms, trying to warm himself up from the friction. Just as he was standing up to turn around, there was a loud knocking at the door. Dropping his arms to his sides, he walked over, calling out to see if it was his brother first.
"Yeah, Al, just let me in," He heard Ed mutter on the other side of the door. Undoing the lock, Al barely had the door open when his older brother stormed in, brushing past him roughly. Feeling a bit irritated at his brother's rude behavior, Al flipped the lock back into place before turning around and glaring at his brother.
"Where did you get this food, Al?" Ed asked, rummaging through the bag on the table. "I told you you aren't allowed to leave unless I'm with you."
"Brother, it's been a week since you've gotten anything, I was getting tired of waiting," Al said, walking over next to Ed. He watched as the blond pulled out a few things from the bag, and that was when he noticed the mark.
"Ed? What happened to your face?" Al asked suddenly, grabbing onto his brother's shoulder and attempted to turn him to face him.
"It's nothing, Al," Ed muttered, unwrapping a stale donut. As he took a bite from the pastry, Al grabbed him once again and roughly turned him, examining the large bruise blossoming across his brother's face. It went from his eye all the way down his cheek, flaming red and starting to turn blue.
"What happened?!" Al asked, grabbing his brother's chin and turning his face up towards the light coming through the window to get a better look.
"Assholes at the school on my way home from the market," Ed muttered around a mouthful of donut. Swallowing he batted Al's hand away. "Back off, Al. It's just a bruise. Can't a guy eat in peace?"
"What did they hit you with?" Al asked, watching as his brother took a seat at the table. Taking a seat closest to him, he sat, fret worrying his brow.
"It's nothing, Al. Honestly. Some punks wanted money," Ed scoffed, gesturing at himself, half a donut in one hand. "Do I looklike I have any money?"
"So they beat you up?" Al felt the sick feeling in his stomach increasing as he noticed the split bottom lip and dried blood. There were faint traces of smeared blood around his brother's nose, as though he tried washing up his face before coming back, trying to protect his brother from the cruelties of the city. But he could only be kept in the dark so long.
"One jackass cracked me with a bat, it's nothing," Ed spat, looking Al in the eye for the first time since he got home. "And how many times do I have to tell you to never leave here unless it's with me? What if you were caught?"
Al flinched as he saw Ed's full appearance. His short hair was messed up, the bruise was even larger than Al had first thought, and there was a large scab forming on the bottom of his chin. Now how did that happen?
"Are you listening to me, Alphonse? Don't ever leave like that again. I'm impressed you got such a big bag...You weren't caught were you?" The blond asked, finishing off his donut.
"One of the bakers chased me down, but I lost him when I crossed the street. I'm really sorry, Brother, I just wanted to get us something."
Tossing Al a wrapped pastry, Ed casually brushed crumbs off his coat, folding his arms behind his head as he leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the table. Catching the pastry, Al felt irked as he shoved his brother's feet off of the table, swiping the dried mud chunks that had fell from Ed's boots onto the floor.
"Just because we live in a dump doesn't mean you have to trash the place even more, y'know?" Al said sorely, rolling his eyes at Ed's glare. But Al ignored it, pointing over at the door. "Take your boots off and stop mucking the place up, will you?"
With an over dramatic sigh, Ed got up from his chair and trudged over to the door, pulling off his boots and kicking them into the corner beside the doorway.
"Happy?" Ed sneered. Al was about to throw back a retort, bickering was a natural thing for the brothers, but the pain ridging Ed's face and gaze made him bite his tongue. Shaking his head in defeat, Al turned back around in his chair, busying himself with unwrapping the pastry. He wanted to help his brother, but there wasn't anything he could do about the pain, about the marks riddling his face. All he could do was just ignore it as his brother wanted and everything would be fine.
Hearing Ed mumble something about how tired he was, Al listened as his brother went up the staircase to the second floor, where they had a small attic like room with two old mattresses laying on the floor. The stairs creaked loudly, threatening to break, but they had been living here for nearly six months now, and nothing had broke yet. Six months was a record time for the brothers. They had usually moved from place to place, trying to stay indiscreet like rats, hiding from the big cats of the city. Occasionally they'd live with a small group of other homeless, but being around other people seemed to make Ed twitch with distaste. Al didn't know why but Ed seemed to despise people.
Finishing his pastry, the staleness taking away it's original flavor, Al took the wrapper and threw it into the barrel stove. Checking to make sure the door was securely locked, he followed his brother's path up the groaning stairs and into their room. It was a sort of loft at one point in the building's history, a small attic used for extra storage. Now the boys had made it fairly comfortable to live in, stolen blankets and ragged pieces of cloth used to preserve what warmth they could get. Winter was coming quickly and it was always the roughest time of the year for people without homes.
Winry's grandmother had always told them that they were welcome to stay with them, but Ed's pride and need for independence had made him refuse her offer. They had made it this far alone, Ed had explained, they sure as hell didn't need help now. But little did Ed know that he'd take Granny Pinako up on that offer, during the next winter, when he was fifteen. That would be the year Granny Pinako passed away and left Winry with the Elrics.
Ed had his back to Al, laying on his mattress in an almost fetal position, burrowed under two blankets, strands of his short blond hair splaying against a dingy pillow. Al looked down at his own bed, checking to make sure there wasn't any rodents hiding in the blankets before laying down and curling up under his own blankets. He turned to face the window, staring out the grimy glass as he saw the dreary gray sky turning darker and darker as the hidden sun was setting.
"Brother?"
"Yeah, Al?"
"It's getting pretty cold, isn't it?"
"It is almost winter, it's going to just get colder."
"...you think we'll make it this year-?"
Turning around on his side to face Al, golden eyes glared at him, "Don't talk like that Al, of course we'll make it! We'll always make it. That's what we do, we keep moving on despite everything that's happened."
"Maybe we should take Granny Pinako's offer and stay with her and Winry?"
Ed scoffed and turned onto his back, looking up at the short ceiling, "As if. We don't need charity from anyone, Alphonse. We've got a lot more than most people do. Just because we can't afford schooling or proper heating doesn't mean we're going to die."
"But I missschool, the Home was pretty tough, but it was worth it to get basic schooling-"
"You wouldn't get far with basic schooling, anyway, Al. You need a degree if you want to get a decent job."
"But that isn't fair, how is anyone supposed to get a job if they can't afford school? And if they can't afford school how are they meant to pay for it?"
"It's a vicious cycle, Al," Ed huffed, turning his head to look back over at Al. "Life's not fair, but we're just gonna have to make due until I can find a way to get a decent income. Then maybe I can make you go to school and get the degree and you can work to pay for an apartment, eh?"
Ed grinned at him playfully, making Al smile back at him, "Don't think you're just going to be a lazy bum at home once I get a job. You have to work to."
"But I had to work so hard to put you through school, Al. I deserveto stay at home and mess up the house."
Shaking his head and grinning despite himself, Al pulled the blankets on top of him around him tighter, trying to keep some of his warmth from escaping. The two brothers lay in the room, eyes open, but not speaking, listening to the city bustle off in the distance. The only prominent noise was the crackling of the fire in the barrel stove downstairs.
After a few more minutes of silence, Ed broke it, looking over at Al, "Maybe we should board up the stairs and move the beds downstairs for the winter. I bet it's a lot warmer in the kitchen."
Ed called it a kitchen, but it hardly passed as one. Only having a table with three chairs and a barrel stove, it barely sufficed as a kitchen. But Al refused to complain. His brother seemed pretty happy with their current home, and Al had to admit it was a lot better than the previous ones.
"We should do it tomorrow, it's getting pretty cold this month."
"Alright, I'll find some wooden boards to board it up then. I'm sure the city dump will have something."
Five more minutes passed of them just listening to the small fire pop and crackle in the stove downstairs, the silence pressing in on Al's eardrums. What he really wanted was a radio. Something to listen to, to keep himself from going crazy in this silence all of the time. Ed wasn't exactly the best person to have a conversation with, unless you enjoyed being the one who held up both sides of the conversation.
The room was starting to get steadily darker, causing Al to start seeing things in the corner of his eye, but he ignored them, trying to focus on sleeping.
"Ed, I'm really cold," Al whispered, feeling his jar start to quiver from the chill starting to settle in around them. In the darkness, he could see his brother lift his blankets up, gesturing for him to come over and climb in.
Without another word, Al dragged his blankets over to Ed's bed, slipping under Ed's covers and pressing up against his brother, shivering against the sudden cold snap. Cocooned in his own blankets, Al tried throwing some of his own over his brother to make sure that he wouldn't be cold also. He knew it wouldn't be any good if one of them got sick.
"God, that stupid stove barely does any good heating up this little place, does it?" Ed growled, obviously annoyed at Al's attempt to cuddle. Ed wasn't the touchy type, and could just barely put up with Al's cuddly personality. But he knew that kid's liked the contact with other people and just dealt with it, refraining himself from shoving the smaller boy away.
"The paper pellets don't make very good fuel. We need something like wood to heat this place up," Al chattered, burying his face against Ed's side, wrapping an arm around his waist.
"There won't be a lot of wood to get this winter. Maybe we should try and get an oil heater," Ed murmured, mostly to himself. Trying to stay annoyed, he wrapped his arm around Al, a bit happy for the extra warmth. This winter was going to be a hard one and he was trying to think of ways to keep the place insulated against the chill.
"'Night, Ed," Al said, his shivering starting to subside.
"Yeah, just try and not piss the bed like last time, alright?"
Lifting his head angrily, Al protested, "That wasn't my fault! You wouldn't take me to the bathroom before bed!"
"Not my fault I thought you could hold it!"
"I'm not a baby, Ed, I won't wet the bed again-"
"Well last time I ended up soaked, I thought you outgrew diapers."
Turning bright red, Al frowned, lashing out a kick at his brother's legs, "Won't you just drop it? I wasn't feeling that good that night."
"Guess it's better than being puked on..."
"Just go to bed, Brother."
There were two ranks in the Brat'ja gang. The high ranks and the low ranks. The low ranks were subdivided into two separate titles, those being new recruits and then the 'vets'. The vets had survived being newbs and had been in the low ranks for years. To get out of the newb phase, you had to have been a part of the main Brat'ja gang for at least a year and have done something impressive or useful. The remaining low rank Brats had all been killed on guard duty and now, all they had were recruits. Every time Ed walked by their graves he would feel sick, thinking of all of the young people's lives he failed to protect.
Ed couldn't see anyone else joining the high ranks of the Brat'ja. The people he had now had been a part of his life from when the Brat'ja had first formed. Winry and Al had been with him since he was just a child, and he would never forget escaping from that lab with Kevin by his side. And Jeremy had rescued Ed from one of his first system resets. He had collapsed in an alleyway and while everyone else walked on by, going about their daily lives, Jeremy stopped and helped him. And... since he couldn't talk or hear, he figured there was no one else better to trust.
That's why Ed blocked everyone else out. No matter how well he came to know someone, he couldn't ever give them that full trust he gave without a second thought to his small ring of what was best described as a family. Al was his only blood relative, but Kevin was nothing short of a brother to him, even though they had no resemblance. Winry was a childhood friend that helped them many times when they were on the streets, before her grandmother died. Winry was left alone and either had the choice of leaving with the brothers, Ed and Al, or staying and being taken to a state home. After what she had witnessed from the brothers' time there, she had chose to run away.
Following Kevin down the stairs, Ed kept a careful hand on the stair railing as the others followed behind him. His leg felt as though it would give out any moment and send him crashing down the stairs into Kevin's back, which was the last thing he wanted right now.
"Kevin, I want you and Jeremy to block off the front doors," he ordered quickly, "Everyone's probably in the dining hall. I don't want the bastard escaping."
"Aye aye, captain, sir."
Edward overlooked Kevin's smart-ass comment and let everyone pass him as they reached the end of the stairs, silently watching the others pass through the doors of the dining hall.
Waiting for a moment to be sure that Kev and Jere had enough time to get to the lobby, Ed went through the doorway and looked around the room, glowering gold eyes searching for Jacobson.
After the mock mission, Ed had made sure that everyone's picture was taken and their name was taken down. Everyone was recorded and their details were held in a file in Ed's room, and it had been easy for Al to show him who Pearce Jacobson was. When he'd looked over the picture, the gang leader had felt a coil of hatred tighten in his gut as he saw the smug grin on the man's face. He wasn't going to let anyone get away with being so over-confident under hisroof.
Just as Ed looked over at the archway that led out to the lobby, his eyes met with Jacobson's, sitting at the table nearest to the exit with a group of new recruits. He could almost seethe click in Jacobson's mind through his dark eyes as Ed started walking towards him, his face set in determination. In almost an instant, the spy was throwing his chair back as he shot up from the table and made a run for it out into the lobby, the discarded chair landing with a loud clatter as the room went silent. Ed was already running before Jacobson had even stood up, ignoring the eyes on his back.
As he entered the lobby, he saw Kevin shove Jacobson back, making him land hard on the floor. He scrambled up, glaring at Ed and the others, shoulders hunched up in a defensive position.
"You reallythought you could get away with it, didn't you?" Ed sneered, stalking over to the man and crossing his arms.
"How did you figure it out?" Jacobson asked, glaring over at Kevin and Jeremy. Ignoring Kevin's flipped middle finger, Jacobson straightened up, looking back over at Ed with a more confident smirk as he straightened out his crumpled jacket.
"How didn't I figure it out? You making it blatantly fucking obvious to Alphonse? Or do you always have 'I'm a military dog'written all over your ugly mug?"
Ed could hear people getting up from their chairs and a few walking towards the archway in the dining hall, watching. Good, let them watch. Maybe they'll learn it's not wise to try to go behind my back.
Chuckling, Jacobson shook his head, "Well, I've already notified the military headquarters. They know your real name. I don't think you realize that I've alreadygotten away with it."
Even as he let a dangerously lazy grin slip onto his face, Ed gritted his teeth against the stress and frustration building up in his mind until it felt like a physical pain pulsing behind his eyes. He just didn't need this now, not with everything else going on. "You reallyare stupid!" he drawled carelessly, ignoring the pain to focus on the threat before him. "Let me guess. You fell for that charade? You really think I'd let my cover get blown that easy? You're stupider than I thought!"
Jacobson's smirk disappeared as Ed stepped closer to him, making sure to stay a good arm-length away. Ed was starting to feel a little woozy and he didn't want to get hit by a cheap shot.
"What was my name again?" Ed asked smugly, giving Jacobson a dirty look. "Rodrick Boubar?"
"There's no point in bluffing, you know," Jacobson tried, scoffing. "You're just a scared little boy now, now that the military has your name to confirm your identity. Just wait. They'll come here and kill every last one of your little playmates. And they just mightspare that little blond whore you've got on your arm all of the time."
Ed felt the heat creep up his neck as he clenched his fist painfully, his automail hand creaking under the stress. "Don't you fucking daretalk about Winry like that."
"Boss, don't listen to him, he's just trying to get you riled up - " Kevin started, but Ed waved him off, snatching up Jacobson's jacket collar with his flesh hand and scowled at him, giving him a good shake.
"Don't you ever think you can just come in here, manipulate my guys, insult Winry, and just walk out free. You hear me? I don't ever want to see your fucking face again, and if I do, I willkill you."
"Then why don't you just kill me? Are you too much of a scared little boy to kill a man?!" Jacobson shoved Ed away, completing the picture of fearless bravado by spitting squarely into Ed's rage-torn face.
As the wet wad of spit hit Ed, landing on his left cheek, something snapped in his head like an elastic band being stretched just too far. His vision tinted black and red as his automail swung out, as if everything were slowed down and Ed were just watching from behind some distant screen as his metal fist smashed into Jacobson's face in one smooth, lethal motion. The face and skull collapsed as easily as clay as blood spurted over his hand and the taller man's neck snapped loudly like a thick branch being broken over someone's knee. The body - the corpse- immediately pitched forward, slumping to the floor like a rag doll.
Ed felt his head clearing from the strong, throbbing pressure as he struggled to breathe, everything speeding back up. The man crumpled on the floor at his feet wasn't breathing. He wasn't moving.
What have I done? What happened?!
Quickly looking up, he saw Kevin staring at him, a look of panic and horror on his face, reflecting exactly how Ed was feeling. Even Jeremy was shocked.
What did I do? I didn't...
Ed stared blindly at the body crumpled on the ground, motionless as the dull eyes stared at the wall, slight spasms causing muscles in the face to twitch, the hands clenching slightly and loosening erratically, like someone who was asleep and was having a nightmare.
Except he wasn't going to wake up.
"What did you do, man?!" Kevin rushed over to Ed, grabbing his arms, shaking him. Ed shoved him away, staggering towards the dining hall, roughly wiping the spit that was running down his face onto his sleeve. He had to leave, get away from all of these judging eyes. Pushing through the crowd that had gathered at the archway between the lobby and dining hall he managed a glance up and spotted Roy standing nearby, dark eyes wide. Winry, looking alarmed, was beside him and made a move towards Ed but Roy grabbed her arm, holding her back.
"Get out of my way," Ed snapped, taking all his strength trying not to let his voice shake as he made his way through the door to the stairway and strode up to the second floor, quickly breaking into a run as soon as he was out of sight.
Bursting into the bathroom, Ed slammed the door shut behind him, locking it. He hurried over to the sink, quickly turning the faucet knobs. It sprayed red with rust at first as the water ran clean, turning clear within seconds. Staring at his hands, he saw the blood that covered his automail, drying quickly on the cold metal surface.
Dipping his hands under the running water he tried in vain to wipe all of the blood specks off his automail. The panicky feeling was still causing his heart to race, but his headache was dissipating. Peering up at the mirror above the sink, Ed cringed when he saw a few drops of blood on his face. Swiping at it made it smear and he could feel the bile rising from his stomach and up into his throat.
How could I kill him? How did I kill him so easily?!
He could feel his eyes burn as he fought back the tears and the guilt made his innards sour. He knew he talked about killing the bastard, but he never, truly, wanted to kill him. It was just talk. He was just frustrated with everything, this isn't what he wanted!
A knock at the door made him jump, nearly chipping the sink with his automail arm. Turning the sink off and using the inside of his shirt to rub the blood off his face, Ed unlocked the bathroom door and opened it, revealing Winry.
Tears were streaked down her angry face and her blue eyes were filled with hurt. "How could you?" she asked, barely stifling a sob. "How could you kill him?! You said you weren't going to!"
"Winry, I didn't mean to- I-" Ed started, trying to reach out, trying to pull her into a hug that he needed more than anything right now. But she jerked backwards, brow furrowing as she shook her head.
"Stay away from me. I can't - I - I need to go," she sniffed, quickly leaving Ed standing there, feeling worse than he thought possible. He couldn't do anything but watch her leave, listening to her run up the next flight of stairs.
Two tears finally escaped and slipped down his jawline, but he brushed them away angrily as he started walking down the hallway to make his way back to his room. Was it happening again? He hadn't everlost control like that.
Not since...
"I... I did that?"
The body lay prone on the ground where Ed had dropped it. Blood oozing from the H.A.E's mouth and nose. Once black eyes, now gray, stared sightlessly, almost questioningly. Asking Ed why he killed him.
Ed had been having dreams... nightmares, whenever he slept. Of that… thing.
Shuddering, Ed slammed his bedroom door shut behind him.
It was happening again. It was only a matter of time before he lost all of his humanity... like those things. Ed had been hoping that maybe he only lost it that one time because there were people in danger. Kevin, Jeremy, Roy. He was protecting them!
But now he just killed a man. A man. A human, not an H.A.E. A man who undoubtedly had a family that was expecting him to come home.
What would the military tell them? That he had died in the line of duty? An honorable death? Would they tell him he went to the infamous Brat'ja gang to extract information and was brutally killed without mercy by the bloodlusting gang members? Skull caved in and neck broken? His scalp stained crimson with his blood?
Ed was on the verge of hyperventilation. Gripping both of his elbows tightly, he leaned back against his door, trying to hold it together. He was panicking, he had to stop panicking!
The doorknob started rattling as someone tried opening it, then there was a loud, urgent knocking.
"Boss? Boss?! Open the door, right now!"
Is that Kevin?
There was a bang on the door as though someone slammed themselves into the door, attempting to break it down.
Definitely Kevin.
Ignoring Kevin's yelling, and threats, Ed listened the doorknob click like metal against metal as he assumed Kevin was picking the lock. With a finishing click, the knob was turned and the door was pushing against Ed's back with all the force of Kevin's emotion. He moved out of its way as Kevin stumbled in, looking pale.
"You run off on me like that again, and I swear I will kick your sorry ass," the brunette snapped, closing the door behind him with a loud bang. He pocketed his thin, metal pick and crossed his arms, looking unusually parental for Kevin, "Now what the hellwas that? Didn't you say you weren't gonna kill him?"
Ed couldn't stand looking eye to eye with a glaring Kevin, instead he stayed silent, staring at the floor with his hands in his pockets. For some reason it was taking all he could not to just break down, his shoulders quivered, and he didn't dare speak in fear it would just push him over the edge.
Not in front of Kevin. He just couldn't in front of Kevin.
Shoulders sagging, Kevin's face softened as he noticed Ed's red-tinted eyes. Stepping over, Kevin grabbed Ed's shoulder, "Hey, what's going on, man? This isn't the Fullmetal I know."
Shaking Kevin's hand off his shoulder, Ed turned away, walking over to his bed and sitting down.
"I don't know what happened, Kevin... It's just like... like that night the H.A.E. took out the guys on border patrol. I... I barely remember what happened. I wasn't me." He struggled for a moment with his emotions, then finally managed to whisper the words that were plaguing his mind. "What am I going to do if I become one of them?!"
Kevin's mouth opened and then closed, for once at a loss for words, his brow riddled with worry. "Then we have to tell Winry, dude. I told you that we have to fix this before it becomes a problem!" Kevin begged, sitting on the bed next to Ed. "I'm not letting my best friend become one of those crazy-ass H.A.E. things running around the streets. You're not that, Ed."
Ed ignored his name, nervously tapping his automail hand against his metal knee. With his own combat skills and the power of his artificial body, he could easily kill everyone in this hotel in a matter of minutes. What if he woke up one day to find everyone slaughtered? How would he live with himself...?
"Don't tell Winry..."
"But-"
"I said no, Kevin. I'm still the leader of this gang, and I'm still in charge. That's an order," Ed barked, glowering at Kevin.
"There's only so many times you can fucking throw that leader card at me, pal. I'm your friend. I've been with you long before you had this gang going. You can't treat me like one of your little minions."
Feeling a pang of guilt, Ed started to apologize but Kevin cut him off.
"No, it's fine. I know this isn't you. We're going to have to get this anger problem under control," Kevin sighed, running his hands through his short, brown hair. His eyes flicked back up to Ed's and looked sympathetic. "You seriously need to chill... Too bad we can't go to the bar and get smashed. One of the things I hate about that special little poison filterin your gut."
Snorting, Ed shook his head, noticing the sudden change in Kevin's tactic to make him feel better, "I've never liked alcohol anyways."
"That's because you haven't been drunk, dude. Brings out the fun guy in you and all your little worries are drowned in whiskey," Kevin said, smirking as he bumped his shoulder into Ed's playfully. "Maybe I should get Winry to disable that filter for a night so I can get you wasted. Maybe then you'd finally declare your undying love and affection and kiss her, you poor sap."
Ed could feel his face heating up as he shook his head, "Winry hates me. I've never seen her so upset in my life."
Twisting his mouth in thought, Kevin shrugged and slapped a supportive hand on Ed's shoulder. "Hey, she's just freaked out that you caved a guy's face in. To me, I think that's a pretty reasonable reaction. If I was a chick, and I saw my guy put his fist through someone's face, I'd be scared too."
"We're not together, Kevin. So quit acting like we are."
Grinning again, Kevin shook his finger at Ed teasingly, "Come on, man. I've got money bet on you that before the year's up you'll lay one on her. It's inevitable. You guys will get together, mark my words. Then I'll have to put up with you making kissy faces at her every moment you get a chance - "
Ed growled and drove an elbow into Kevin's side, as his friend started laughing loudly, jumping up from the bed to escape from Ed's assault.
"And the big bad Ed attacks, because he knows it's true!"
Rolling his eyes and hiding a smile, Ed had to admit he was feeling a lot better than he was a few minutes ago. Although Kevin's act to lighten the mood was inevitably working, his mind refused to stop straying back fretting.
"She's not happy at all, Kevin. What do I do?" Ed asked, becoming serious again. "I know she hates me, she was crying... Look at me, I'm so desperate for advice, I'm asking you. The chick repeller."
"Oi! I happen to be a chick magnet. And don't worry about Winry. She's just upset, man. Give her a day or so and go talk to her. For now, we're gonna have to be careful about you caving faces in," Kevin joked gently. But it didn't work. Ed's guilt swarmed back in and he exhaled, wishing that this day had never happened.
Huffing out a breath, Kevin patted Ed's shoulder, "Come on. It was an accident. You never really meant to kill the guy. And in all honesty, he was asking for it. It's not your fault you're a little stronger than you thought. Next time use your real arm if you wanna go pounding guys' faces in, alright? I'm not holding this against you and neither is anyone else."
"Where's Al and Jere?"
"Taking care of the body. Al will probably be up in a few more hours to coddle you. I bought you a few hours to chill out, okay? The only reason he isn't barging through those doors right now is because I told him I'd talk to ya and that you needed a timeout." Kevin rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little concerned again. "But really, man. If we have another outburst like that again, I haveto tell Winry. I won't say anything now, I'll let you talk to her, but... seriously. You should tell her."
Nodding, Ed reached over to the drawer of his nightstand and pulled it open, digging for his pill container. "Thanks, Kevin. I think I'll just take some sleeping aid and get to sleep. I feel like I haven't slept in weeks."
"Yeah... you don't look like you have either."
"Fuck you," Ed grinned, rubbing his eyes as Kevin walked to the door and opened it.
"Sorry, bud, as much as I love you, I don't swing that way!"
Before Ed could throw a retort, Kevin was already gone, shutting the door behind him. As soon as the door clicked shut, his previous thoughts came back. Just a few hours ago he was trying to get some sleep, now he just murdered a man out of anger. As much as Kevin tried to comfort him and tell him no one blamed him, that it wasn't his fault, Ed could see the slight fear in his dark brown eyes. It was small, but he hadn't ever seen Kevin look at him like that.
Opening the blue container he spilled out a few of the little white tablets onto his flesh hand and tipped them into his mouth, forcing himself to swallow them dry. Al always told him not to, due to the possibility of them getting stuck in his throat and dissolving in his esophagus, causing cysts to form... but really, when half of his body was made of broken down machinery and his mind was turning more feral every day, that was the least of his problems.
He kicked off his boots with two loud thuds, dried bits of mud scattering on his floor. Making a face at the mess and deciding he would clean it later - who really cared if his room was clean anyway? - he laid back on his hard mattress and pulled up the dark gray blanket Winry had given him for Christmas last year. With it wrapped comfortably around his shoulders and face, he turned on his side, away from the door, and stared out the window of his room, where light was still shining through and casting large white squares on the edge of his bed and the floor.
What if Winry never forgives me? I'll be lucky if Al ever looks at me the same way again.
Rolling onto his back, he lifted his automail arm up to his face, examining his fingers. Even with the rough washing he gave them, blood traces were still in the joints of his fingers. The sight of it made his stomach queasy with guilt.
Fisting up his hand, he held the metal appendage against his right cheekbone, applying pressure. What was it like for that man? Did he feel it right before he died?
There was a faint pain in his cheekbone, but he ignored it, still staring at the ceiling.
He must have felt the pain before he died. Or was it so quick that before his brain could even register the pain, he died without feeling a thing?
Something wet was trickling its way down the side of his face, but the feeling was weak, like a feathertip running down the side of his face, barely registering in his chaotic mind.
He'd read that the brain still had activity for up to five minutes after death... could Jacobson still feel everything as his lifeless body cooled? Had he laid there for five minutes, realizing that he was dead and never going to live another day, see any of his family or co-workers again?
It was just a stupid theory. Who cares if the brain still had activity? That didn't mean the person's consciousness was still there. You don't think when you're asleep, you just dream. That was why there was the conscious and the subconscious.
Realizing that the exposed edges of the joints in his automail fingers were digging into the skin of his cheek, breaking into it, he pulled his hand away from his face, slamming it onto the other side of the bed, outstretching his arm. The sting in his cheek hardly made itself known in his mind as he felt his guilt turn into anger.
Jacobson shouldn't have run his trap like that at Ed. What was he, stupid? It was suicidal to threaten and boast to a gang leader like that, right in front of his men. And to talk about Win like that, like he knew her. The guy must have wanted to die, he surely didn't think the threat of the military coming to get Ed was going to keep him from having Jacobson killed.
Laying there, feeling the effects of the drugs taking over his body,as he stared at the ceiling, Ed starting thinking about Winry and Al. Where were they all going to be in five or ten years? Would Ed even make it that long with this junky system? He knew that no one could fully replace the intricate and complex systems in his side besides the people who had H.A.E. prints. An excellent mechanic might be able to figure it out... or just end up killing him in the process. Even so, Al and Winry both agreed that Ed shouldn't go to a hospital or a mechanic. The minute they saw his side, the government would be contacted immediately. This kind of technology wasn't known to the public, not yet anyway. Automail replaced limbs, sometimes even eyes, maybe even a heart on rare occasions, but the people usually preferred a transplant. Never had it replaced so many organs, so many functions added on; The poison filter, the resistance to Xianide, and whatever the hell they were trying to accomplish by altering the brain, to cause that horrible malfunction that made all their subjects go wild with blood lust.
Of course, this was the State he was thinking about. What else did they want besides perfecting the human weapon? Instead of a soldier who went down after a bullet or two, they could make someone who could resist anything, surviving everything to kill anyone who stood in his way.
Ed saw that the light fixture in his ceiling was swirling gently, making him close his eyes. This was always the worst part about these damn meds. They were the only tranquilizer that could get him to sleep properly, if leave him pretty groggy when he first woke up, so he tried not taking them too often.
As he could feel his consciousness leaving him, Ed could have sworn he heard his door creak open, but his eyes refused to open and his mind faded into darkness.
It took Winry a lot of courage to go to Edward's bedroom. The second she had backed away from Ed and went running to her bedroom, she was filled with immense guilt. When he needed her the most, she denied him and ran away. His arms lifted weakly towards her, looking like he was on the verge of crying, and she just... left him. It didn't take long before she felt compelled to return.
Lightly knocking on the door, she didn't receive an answer. Didn't expect to. But as she opened the door she realized Ed was lying on his bed.
"Are you awake?" she asked, closing the door behind her. She thought he was ignoring her at first until her gaze fell on to the blue bottle lying on his nightstand, still open.
Feeling irked, she went over to the nightstand and picked up the bottle and its cap, scooping the scattered pills back into their container and putting the cap back on. She slid the bottle back into his nightstand drawer and heaved a sigh as she looked down at her childhood friend's unconscious form. Winry had told Ed countless times that he couldn't take that many tranquilizers all of the time, due to their addictive side effects, but it was the first time in a long time she had seen his face completely at ease like this. Even in sleep, his expression was usually tense and frowning, as though he were ready for an attack. Now, after who knew how many pills, his face was completely slack and his mouth hung open slightly. If this was what it took for him to find peace after a day as rough as this one... she would simply have to keep an eye on him, as she always did.
Just as she was about to turn away, a small glint of red caught her eye and she looked over at the other side of Ed's face, noticing with a small pang of guilt and concern a thin streak of blood running down the side of his face. Two small cuts on his cheek bone were starting to swell and would definitely be a bruise in the morning. Refraining herself from getting a cloth and cleaning the blood, she wondered where the cuts came from. It couldn't have been from Jacobson, could it? He didn't make a single move to hit Ed from what she saw.
Her eyes trailed down his neck, following the blood line and then she looked down his outstretched automail arm. Usually he kept it in close to his body when he slept, subconsciously fearful of pulling on his shoulder port if he ever rolled over. There was a bit of blood on the metal knuckles, a few drops on the sheets below it.
It only took a second for her to come to a sickening realization that the blood on the automail wasn't from Jacobson and was in fact from the cuts on Edward's cheek. It didn't take a genius to come to the conclusion that the two cut marks were in fact from his automail, the first two finger's knuckles to be precise.
"Oh, Ed...what did you do?" She whispered, her concern now full blown, for good reason. Ed was surely feeling intense guilt from killing that man, enough for Winry to know that it'd make him sick. Terrified at first, she couldn't believe that Ed had so easily thrown his automail fist at someone's face, knowing the unnatural strength the limb possessed. Then that fearful glance he cast at her as he ran by her and up the stairs, she didn't even notice, she was too shocked to even see how frightened and distressed he was and yelled at him. Screamedat him. She was an idiot.
'I'm so sorry, Ed.'
Wringing her hands, she wasn't sure of what to do. Ed was fast asleep, but she didn't dare try and clean the cut, lest she wake him up. Nonetheless she worried about infection, but it would be highly unlikely, due to Ed's...system, but she still wasn't so sure on how long that would last, since she didn't know the full workings of the H.A.E. components.
Dropping her hands to her sides she sighed, giving up on any thoughts of trying to clean the small wound.
"Sleep well, Ed," she whispered before leaving the room, locking the door quietly behind her.
Don't ask me why, but thinks it's the best idea ever to smoosh my italicized words with the word directly after them. Sorry about that. And it's taking out my markers indication a POV change. You can pretty much tell the POV change, but I'm still sorry. is being an ass. I had to go through the document and RE-ITALICIZE each word OVER AGAIN. Ugh.
I do this because I LOVE YOU.
SIDE NOTE: I deleted a lot of my author notes that were single chapters. So if you find that you can't review and want to, just log out and review that way, you can enter your penname with it and I'll be sure to reply if you have any questions.