Disclaimer
I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or related characters. No suing, please.

Death on a Silver Platter
Written by - Stripe

Chapter 3 - October


It was another late night. She was flipping uselessly through another medical textbook. She was reading about another infectious disease. It was another set of symptoms which did not match that of Mr. Eaton's.

She was at another dead end.

Winry pushed back her bangs and let out a frustrated sigh. This wasn't working. At this rate, he was going to die, and she wouldn't know until the autopsy what had killed him. Nothing was going well -- not only with Mr. Eaton, but with Nina and Mr. Miles as well. Moreover, a new patient -- Ms. Crowley -- was also doing badly. Winry felt as if she were drowning and couldn't break through to the surface.

This was her first day out of medical school all over again. The only difference was that by now, she should have been able to handle this. She had more years of experience backing her up.

Winry let her head fall to the table, now lying face-first in an open textbook.

Alfons walked into the living room, a worried expression crossing his face. Winry was sitting at the kitchen table with medical textbooks and poorly written notes on separate sheets of paper scattered around her. There was a single lamp lit to guide her reading, though she wasn't actually reading one of the books at the moment. Instead, she simply had her head resting on the table, turned away from him. Slowly, he walked up.

"Winry?" he prodded gently, testing to see if she was awake. "Do you want to go to bed? There's a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers waiting for you." She rolled her head over in over to face him, but did not straighten up. Her eyes were red, but he couldn't tell whether it was because she had been crying, or was simply attributed to the strain of reading in dim light. She didn't say a word. He pulled out the chair next to her and sat down, eyes softening.

"Winry, what's wrong?"

"My patients are all going to die," she muttered. "And I can't even figure out why." Alfons opened his mouth to try and comfort her, but she continued talking. "I got too complacent. I was doing so well, and now there are some people who really need my help, I can't do anything. I put myself in a sticky situation and can't get out! They're all going to die because they were unlucky enough to get such an incompetent doctor!"

"This isn't your fault," Alfons stated firmly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You are not an incompetent doctor. You've saved more than your fair share of patients before. There will always be a few patients who can't be saved, but you can't blame yourself for that." Carefully, he began to slide the book out from under her head. "Now, you need to get some rest or you won't be able to save anyone." She nodded and picked her head up, casting one last glance back to the book before he closed it.

Something caught her eye.

"Hold it," she said, suddenly alert. She grabbed the textbook from Alfons and quickly began scanning the page. "Wilson's petritus," she read aloud, brows furrowed, "is a potentially fatal disease if left untreated. It first presents with a fever, and later presents with paralysis of limbs, which progresses onto the internal organs if not treated quickly. The bacterium eat at the nerve endings of the muscle and bone... This is it! This is what Mr. Eaton has, I know it!"

"That's great!" Alfons said with a smile, really more happy about seeing Winry regain some of her vibrancy than hearing that she had finally made the correct diagnosis. "So you can treat him?"

"Yeah, it says here that the patient should be administered a specialized antibiotic and that the infected areas..." Suddenly, Winry's enthusiasm faded.

Oh no.


"...I'm really sorry, but it's the only option, Mr. Eaton."

Edward stared at the hospital bracelet adorning his wrist, trying to get his mind off of what Dr. Rockbell has just told him. He still couldn't get used to this pseudonym - Edwin Eaton. It was almost as if the entire ordeal was happening to another person entirely. But that's what he was hoping for, right? If he didn't use his real name, he couldn't be tracked by hospital documents...

"Mr. Eaton? Did you hear me?" the blonde doctor asked, sounding concerned. He glanced up. He'd heard her, of course. He couldn't easily pretend he hadn't.

"Yeah," he muttered, looking down at his useless right arm.

"Then could you please sign this consent form?" she asked, handing him a clipboard with some formal-looking document attached to it. Ed glanced over it briefly. It had some sort of legal dribble he didn't understand at the top, and at the bottom was a "sign here" blank. He looked up at Dr. Rockbell, eyebrow raised.

"I'm right-handed," Ed stated blandly. She sighed.

"You're going to have to learn to write with your left at some point," Dr. Rockbell replied, her expression a mix of pity, exhaustion, and annoyance. He noticed she had considerable bags under her eyes -- last night hadn't been a good one for her. He wondered whether he should request a change of doctors or simply give her the benefit of the doubt. He shook his head and picked up his left hand, scrawling an illegible signature at the bottom of the page. She nodded, and grabbed the clipboard from him.

"I've set the date for your amputation to be on the 11th -- just a few days from now. The infection shouldn't affect any more of your system in the mean time, and the nerves in your arm and leg are dead, so you shouldn't be in much pain," she explained as she was heading out the door. Ed blinked.

"Wait, much pain?" he asked, hoping for clarification. However, by the time the words had escaped his mouth, she was already gone.


Mei looked at the large calendar stationed behind the nurse's station, eyeing the day's date suspiciously. October 11th. In the little box, somebody had written "Mr. Elric visits 10:00!" in happy, bubbly handwriting. The other nurses obviously didn't know what was about to befall their beloved hospital.

Inspection Day.

Mei quickly glanced up to the clock, hoping to see how long she had to prepare. It was 9:54 -- 6 minutes until the demon arrived. She eyed the ward suspiciously. She had finished her rounds already, so she had some free time. She could easily go down to the main lobby to fully prepare herself for what was about to arrive at the hospital. She bit her lip.

She had to do it. For the hospital.

With a determined expression set, she marched downstairs to the lobby, taking a defensive stance in front of the double doors leading into the hospital. She eyed the people coming in with a critical eye. She knew the type of person she was looking for: a man in his mid-thirties at the youngest. Horrible expression. Bad aura around him. A pitchfork and horns.

She kept her eyes peeled, carefully examining every unfortunate soul who entered. An overweight woman -- obviously not him. A young couple, the girl pregnant -- No, no. Too happy. A handsome young man with blonde hair -- no, much too young. Too handsome, too. An old man feebly limping in on a cane -- rather pathetic, but Mei couldn't let her guard down. The old man could more than easily be--

"Excuse me, but could you help me? I'm looking for somebody."

A voice snapped Mei out of her intent search mission. Turning quickly, she soon discovered the voice belonged to the handsome blonde man she had dismissed earlier. For a moment, she considered ignoring him in favor of her search, but a nagging voice reminded her that she remained woefully single. Immediately, she went from intent, determined huntress mode to young, adorable, helpful nurse mode.

"I'd be glad to help," she offered with what she hoped was an adorable smile. "Who are you looking for?"

"A doctor here - Winry Rockbell. Do you know her?" the young man asked. Mei's grin only faltered for a moment. However, she quickly herself that Winry was already happily taken, and that this man wouldn't have a chance with her, even if he wanted it.

"Yes, I know her. Would you like me to page her?" the young nurse asked, confident that within a few more kind, caring smiles, she'd have him.

"That would be helpful. Tell her that Alphonse Elric is waiting for her in the lobby."

The difference in Mei's demeanor was comparable to that of a pleasant, summer's evening and a category 5 hurricane raging through the coastal cities of Texas.

"Alphonse Elric?" she repeated, eyebrow twitching. "As in Alphonse Elric, the heir of the Elric fortune who practically owns half of the city?" The young man seemed startled by this sudden change, but did his best to answer anyways.

"Uhm, yes, I'm that Alphonse Elric. But I really don't own any of the city, let alone half..." he explained in a futile attempt to regain her affections again.

"Could you move away a little bit? Just a little bit? Perfect. Thanks." Mei said this with an ice-like expression, making the multi-millionaire back up several steps. He nearly backed into an elderly man in a wheelchair, but this didn't seem to matter to the nurse.

"Uhm, why did I have to back up?" he asked nervously, trying to figure out what he had done to this girl to make her so cold towards him. He had never seen her in his life - what could he have possibly done to offend her?

"Because I would file a sexual harassment charge against you if you didn't, you scumbag," Mei spat out, repeating the words that Winry had used herself to describe the man. How could she let herself be fooled by his boyish charm? It was now very clear that he was only here to ruin the hospital. Mei mentally chided herself for letting her guard down for a pretty face. It would not happen again.

"I'm not a scumbag. I donate most of my money to charities," Alphonse offered up uselessly, though he was rather certain it wouldn't help his case. She was already dead set on hating him, it seemed.

"And I'm a hula dancer, now what do you have to say?" she countered, placing her hands on her hips. He frowned, trying to make sense of what she had just said.

"That doesn't have anything to do with me being a scumbag..." he muttered, having just about given up on trying to appeal to the dark-haired nurse.

"So's your face."

Alphonse opened his mouth, trying to think of a response, but it was obvious now that anything he said could and would be used against him, however poorly. No words came to mind, so instead of countering somewhat intelligently, he simply stood there with his mouth agape.

"Alphonse! I wasn't expecting to see you here so soon!"

Saved by the bell.

Al looked past the vindictive nurse to see Winry Rockbell -- one of his oldest friends -- walking towards him. She was dressed in her professional, white coat, stethoscope draped about her neck. He could still remember when they were still in high school together, when she wore torn jeans and oil-stained T-shirts to school, her hair usually tied back into a messy ponytail. Seeing her in a professional setting was almost strange and out of place. This might have been a slightly hypocritical thinking; anymore, his wardrobe consisted of purely business attire. He was only wearing a more casual outfit today -- a button-down shirt -- because Winry had warned him that if he really wanted to visit the sick patients, he'd have to be prepared for what came out of the sick patients to stain his clothing.

Not that he was worried about not being able to replace the clothes, but it was probably best to not ruin the designer suits his assistant, Ruby, had so painstakingly picked out for him.

"Hey Winry," he greeted with a small smile. "How are you today?"

"Just fine," she replied, brushing off her clothes a bit. "I guess you've met Nurse Chan, then?"

"Unfortunately," the dark-haired nurse spat out. She glared at him again, but finally turned away and walked off into the hospital. Alphonse let out an almost relieved sigh.

"And I was just beginning to have fun..." he muttered sarcastically. What was it with him and his luck - or lack-there-of - with girls? Winry simply laughed good-naturedly, patting him lightly on the shoulder.

"Mei just likes to form her own opinions about things -- don't take it personally," she explained as she began to walk into the hospital, indicating Alphonse should follow. He let out a sigh and began walking.

"Well, it's kind of hard to not take it personally when she calls me a 'scumbag,'" he explained. He paused, then added, "I'm not a scumbag, am I?" Winry slowed slightly so that they were walking side-by-side in the hallway. She laughed again.

"I don't think you could be a scumbag if you were working at it," the doctor assured her friend. "But you came here for an 'inspection,' right? What exactly do you want to see?" She turned to face him, curious to hear his response. He wasn't exactly the money hoarding type who would stop donations if he felt they weren't running the facility correctly.

"I'm not really sure. I'm mostly tired of my so-called financial advisors hounding me on how I should cut back on donating, so I wanted to get out. Plus, I'm curious to see how your patients are doing. We rarely see each other anymore – it's nice to catch up somehow." Alphonse shrugged, almost as if ashamed of his answer. Winry gave him a grim smile.

"You didn't exactly choose the best time to visit," she admitted. "We don't have any shining success stories to tell right now."

"That's fine with me," Alphonse assured her, only vaguely realizing how morbid that may have sounded. "I'd like to see what really happens in the hospital anyways, not just the shining poster children the hospitals show in their pamphlets." Winry nodded, pausing in front of a door. She looked distressed for a moment, but finally decided to walk inside.

"This is Nina Tucker. She's a younger patient of mine, currently in a comatose state," the doctor explained, purposefully not going into much detail about what had happened to her patient. Alphonse walked around Winry to get a better glimpse of her. She had to have been seven or eight years old at the most, and had he not already been told that she were in a coma, he might have guessed that she were sleeping, and was simply in lack of her favorite blankie. He felt a small pang of sorrow for her. He'd wanted to see the dark side of the hospital - he just wasn't ready to see it.

Winry busied herself with checking on Nina's paperwork, making sure she received the proper medication, that the nurses were treating her well - anything to avoid looking at the girl she felt she had let down. Finally, Alphonse sighed, apparently realizing she wasn't going to say anything more about this patient.

The rest of the "tour" went on as planned. Alphonse made small talk with the few patients who were actually conscious, and Winry went through her rounds at the same time. However, as they reached the last room - Mr. Eaton's - she paused. In about three hours, he would go into surgery to have his limbs amputated. He was probably awake, and probably in a horrible mood.

"Actually," she started, "now that I think of it, he was just discharged today. So I think we're done." She smiled slightly, hoping he would believe her.

Alphonse wondered why she was lying, but didn't bother to bring it up.


"...and I would like an iced tea, please."

"And don't forget the garlic bread!"

As the waiter walked away, Winry raised an eyebrow at the surgeon sitting across from her. "What is it with you and garlic bread?" she asked him, a bemused smile crossing her face.

"Well," Roy started, wrapping his arm around his pregnant wife's shoulders. A confident smirk crossed his face. "Garlic bread gives me garlic breath, which the ladies love. Isn't that right, Riza?" Riza simply sighed, grabbing the glass of water that their waiter had just set on the table.

"Actually, I much prefer it when you have minty breath." She downed half of the glass in one gulp and set it on the table with a small "clink." "So unless you're impressing other women I'm unaware of, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Alfons and Winry simply laughed while Roy pretended to pout. Winry let out a contented sigh, taking a small sip of red wine. "I haven't had a night like this in such a long time. It always seems like work is getting in the way."

"Hospitals seem to work that way," Roy said with a sympathetic nod. "The moment you think you've finally secured a few minutes for yourself, BAM! It's time for emergancy surgery on a patient." Riza and Alfons tended to their respective drinks, finding it best to stay out of the conversation. Alfons had a steady, nine to five job, and Riza was out on maternity leave. They had no reason to complain at the moment.

"At least you surgeons don't need to worry about diagnoses," Winry said, recalling the night only a few weeks ago when she had been digging through textbooks for the cause of Mr. Eaton's illness. "It seems like my patients eat up my free time by making me worry about them, too."

"I spend my free time worrying about my patients, too," Roy added, as if not wanting to be out-pitied.

"Only whether or not they're going to sue you," Winry replied, raising an eyebrow. The surgeon pondered this thought for a moment, as if deciding whether he wanted to agree, or continue to complain.

"Well, it's still some of my precious time with my wife that they're wasting," he explained. Alfons and Winry laughed, where as Riza simply rolled her eyes.

"You're starting to sound like Hughes, now," Alfons said. "Next thing we know, you'll be e-mailing us pictures of your little girl en masse."

"Oh, come on. I couldn't be that bad. Nothing can beat Hughes's unhealthy obsession with his own family," Roy said, taking out his cell phone as he recieved a text message from the man in question. "Speak of the devil..." he muttered, opening up the attachment.

Unsurprisingly, an adorable picture of the man's two-year-old daughter, riding a tricycle, flashed onto the screen. He sighed and put the phone away. Some things never changed.

"Why did you suddenly decide to have a night out like this, anyways?" Winry asked Roy, curious. He'd proposed the idea to her on the twelfth, after she had left Mr. Eaton's room. He'd been the one to perform the amputation, so she assumed the surgeon had been on his way to check up on his patient's condition. Instead, he had stopped her and requested that she and Alfons do a double date with him and Riza. She'd been surprised by the request, but accepted anyways.

He shrugged in response, but finally did seem willing to come up the answer.

"Well, you seemed kind of down about having that one patient practically crippled. I figured we should go out to take your mind off it. Of course, now that you've asked, it's going to be back on your mind, so there's not much point in doing this anymore. Should I just ask for the check?" He said this all with a straight face. Winry sighed.

"No, no. I'm fine. I just wish I had caught the infection earlier..."

There was a dead sort of silence that fell over the table, in which the waiter conveniently came by to take their orders. The mostly muttered their orders - nothing special. Roy was even able to just say "the usual," and be done with it. However, after a moment, Riza finally decided to speak up.

"Isn't your grandmother the one pioneering those new artificial limbs?" the pregnant woman asked. "You could ask him if he would like to take part in the trial." Winry didn't answer for a moment, surprised she had never made the connection before.

"Well," she said finally, "he's apparently homeless and has no living relatives. He'd need somebody to take him in..."

"We have an extra bedroom," Alfons reminded her. Winry turned quickly to look at him, mildly shocked.

"And you wouldn't mind him staying there...? He'd probably have to have someone to watch over him for a while, in case there are complications..." Her boyfriend simply smiled.

"Anything to give you peace of mind."


"So I hear you're going to be discharged today..." Winry said, staring at the crippled young man lying in front of her. He glanced at her sourly.

"Figures. As soon as I'm no longer about to die, you send me out to die on the streets. I'd much rather just waste away here where I actually have a bed. Death on a silver platter is better than death on cold, hard concrete," he spat out in a bitter tone. Winry bit her lip. She was having second thoughts on possibly bringing him into her home. She hoped that most of his bitterness was because of the disease, but she imagined that he was never going to have an entirely pleasant personality.

Still, she couldn't live with herself if she booted him out onto the street as a cripple. She had to do this.

"You don't need to go onto the streets, you know..." she muttered, barely loud enough for him to make out the words. He rolled his eyes.

"And where am I supposed to go?" he asked her. "To the homeless shelter? The land of hopes and dreams? I can't do anything if I only have one arm, which is being used to hold the crutch to make up for the missing leg. I can't get a job, can't get paid. The only thing I can get is pity, which I sure as hell don't need."

"Well, there's work being done to replace limbs," Winry said suddenly. "It's called automail. It isn't perfected yet, but we can put you through the preliminary surgery for free and maybe get you walking and writing again, if you'll agree to the trial."

"So I'd basically be a guinea pig?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded. It wasn't the most flattering of terms, but it was true. She paused, waiting for him to decline, but he continued to look at her expectantly. She took that as a sign to continue.

"You would be able to live at my apartment for a little bit while you're recovering from the surgery," she offered. "And my grandmother is behind developing this, so I'm sure I could get you into the trial without much trouble. My boyfriend would be able to watch after you and make sure nothing went wrong when I'm at work, and I would be able to handle most of the medical complications. We have nice sheets!"

"Too much info! Too much info!" her mind screamed. She felt her face heating up. He would probably decline, and she would just feel like an idiot for even suggesting it. He looked at her intently with his piercing, amber eyes.

Finally, he spoke.

"Being a guinea pig is better than dying on a silver platter."


A/N:

OK. I was better this month. I got the draft in time for some betaing. x3 So shout out to my lovely betas, iAlkemy and CeruleanSan! Go worship the ground they stand on or something. So this chapter includes a few more important things. But most importantly, it had to contain these phrases:

1. Bracelet
2. Fuzzy bunny slippers
3. Minty breath
4. Blankie
5. Garlic Bread
6. "And I'm a hula dancer, now what do you have to say?"
7. "I put myself in a sticky situation and can't get out!"
8. "Too much info! Too much info!"
9. "And I was just beginning to have fun..."
10. "Could you move away a little bit? Just a little bit? Perfect. Thanks."

Can you find them?

Also, I apologize for mistakes in medical terminology and what-not. I'm getting most of this stuff from House and Scrubs - I do not cliam to be an expert in the medical field. I blatantly made up Ed's disease, too. No worries about contracting it.

Well, until next month...

Enjoy!