Al heard the door slam over the sound of Ed's incessant cough. He looked toward the doorway, and Ed appeared in it a moment later.
"Your cough sounds a lot worse, Ed. You should see a doctor about it."
Ed waved a dismissive hand at him. "Its fine, Al. Don't worry so much."
He walked over to the small desk between their beds and searched around, shuffling papers. Finding a small bottle, he held it up in triumph, than began to administer drops to his eye.
"Your eye doesn't look any better, either." Pursued Al.
"I've only had the drops for a few days. You have to give it time." He dropped the bottle back onto the desk and flopped onto his bed. Al cautiously sat on the edge of his own, watching Ed.
"I'm just worried about your sight. I know you can't see very well on that side."
"I told you, it'll get better. Stop worrying about it." He moved quickly to change the subject. "Mustang wasn't in today. Jerk. I don't know if he thinks I've got nothing better to do than wait for him to actually be in his office during working hours…" he stopped as a spasm of coughing took hold of him. Al started to get up, but Ed waved him off.
Ed groaned softly, clutching a hand to his chest. "We should go to bed." He whispered hoarsely.
Al looked at the clock. It only read six thirty.
He looked back at Ed. "Yeah." He agreed. "Bed would be nice."
-…-
The next time Al looked at the clock, it read two forty. He stood as silently as he could, and walked carefully to Ed's bed. He stood for a moment, looking down at his brother, and started to turn away, when he noticed several dark spots of liquid on Ed's pillow. He didn't move for several long minutes, then swung his head to look toward the door.
He wanted to turn on the light, to see.
He desperately didn't.