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

Death on a Silver Platter
Written by - Stripe

Chapter 4 - November


Edward didn't even know when he had been brought into Dr. Rockbell's apartment. The last thing he remembered was being put under for the surgery, and then the next thing he knew, he was swimming in and out of consciousness, laying on a couch with his new arms and limbs propped up and bandages wrapped around the "ports." It wasn't a particularly wonderful experience; his entire body was sore, not just his arm and leg. He had a pounding migraine which made it feel as though he had been whacked over the head with a shovel, and he wasn't sure he would be able to keep anything down if he tried to eat.

Put simply, he was miserable.

But, at the very least, he could twitch the fingers in his new "arm." So the surgery had been mildly successful. He simply wasn't sure if it was worth the pain yet.

"How are you feeling?" Edward jumped slightly at the voice, having been unaware there was anybody else in the room. He squinted up at the direction it had come from to find that, unsurprisingly, it was Dr. Rockbell. He groaned.

"I've been better."

She let out a sigh, brushing back a stray strand of hair. "A bit more detail would be nice," she told him, kneeling down to get a better look at his leg. "Where does it hurt? Is it just pain, or do you have other symptoms as well? Nausea? Insomnia? Synesthesia? Halitosis?"

Edward gave her a look. "Did you swallow an Oxford Dictionary or something?" he asked in a biting tone. Dr. Rockbell rolled her eyes.

"It comes with the profession," she explained, and it was obvious she was trying to hold her temper around him. "Just please give me some details about how you're feeling."

Edward sighed. "Want that list in alphabetical order?" he asked. However, with one glance at the look Dr. Rockbell was giving him, he decided it was likely best to comply. "OK, the place where the metal connects-"

"The port," Dr. Rockbell reminded him.

"Right, the ports. The skin around the ports is very sore, but there's also a sort of dull pain throughout my entire body." The doctor nodded at this information, mentally recording it. She nodded for him to continue. "I also have a head-splitting headache, and I'm feeling a little nauseous." She nodded again.

"Anything else?"

"I could use some extra cushions. Your couch is really uncomfortable."

Winry rolled her eyes. At least his sense of humor was still intact. "Alright. I'm going to look at the limbs now. If you could please do as I say. It is going to be a bit painful, so bear with me, but if it comes to be too much, just tell me." He nodded, and she began the examination. She started with the leg – it was the simpler of the two limbs, and was the most likely to succeed.

"Can you bend your knee?" she asked, gingerly touching the skin near the port. He flinched, but still made an attempt. The area was swollen, so he could barely even move it ten degrees, but it was movement. It was good for the time being – she had full confidence that it would eventually improve. "Can you twist your ankle?"

"It isn't really my ankle, is it?" Mr. Eaton asked bitterly. However, he did slowly turn, with visible effort, the metallic ankle. It wasn't exactly a twist, but he did manage to move the ankle of his own will. Winry felt her heart swell with pride. This was mostly her grandmother's invention, but she had done her fair share of study on the connection to the tissue and the surgery itself. This was her success as well.

"Can you move the toes?"

This was not much of a success. He put forth visible effort to move the toes, but there was no sign of them actually obeying his will. Not even so much as a twitch. Winry let out a sigh. Toe movement wasn't integral to walking or living in general, but it would be a nice thing to have at least.

The examination then moved on to the arm, which was even less successful than the leg. Still, it was progress.

With some more time, Winry told herself, the limbs would work brilliantly.


Steadily, Edward found his time at Dr. Rockbell's house becoming more bearable. The pain was lessening, and his nausea was all but gone. His headache was still present, but it was more of a background affair than the main attraction.

Perhaps the most unbearable thing was that there always seemed to be somebody at the house. Dr. Rockbell, or Winry, as she preferred to be called, was there at seemingly random intervals. Sometimes she would be there in the middle of the day, sometimes only at night, and sometimes not there at all. When Winry wasn't there, sometimes her grandmother would take over for her.

Pinako Rockbell was a mildly terrifying woman, especially considering her size. She had been the one to oversee the automail research in the first place, as well as the one to conduct his surgery. She still visited to see how his limbs were working, and would occasionally perform maintenence on them. However, usually, she would just put him through a serious of rigorous tests which strained his body and the metallic limbs themselves. She wouldn't leave him be until he made some sort of progress in moving his new limbs.

It was painful, but because of her, Edward found that he was nearly able to stand on his own two feet again.

And when neither of them was available, Winry's boyfriend was usually there. He was the least painful of the three, but he was also the nosiest. It seemed that a lack of being able to medically examine Ed prompted him into a mental examination. He would talk about anything – Ed's past, his family, his home, his occupation.

This was a very bad thing.

Edward lied, of course. He said his parents were dead, which was true, and that he was an only child, which was not. He claimed he had dropped out of high school and had become an alcoholic – also a lie. He had never stepped foot in a high school or a liquor store. This made lying a bit more difficult. Describing the purchase of a beer barrel required more imagination than one might have expected.

As far as Alfons knew, Ed had never held a steady job or owned anything nice. As far as Alfons knew, Ed was a homeless slug on the street.

Then again, as far as Alfons knew, Edwin Eaton was a real person, and Edward Elric had disappeared a long time ago.

The most difficult part of this charade was remembering who Edwin Eaton was supposed to be.

Edward sat up on the couch, flipping through the channels on Winry's hi-def television. Pinako had left about ten minutes ago – at the moment, there was really nothing better to do. He anticipated that either Alfons or Winry would soon enter the apartment. He was like a little kid; the longest they would permit him to be by himself was approximately thirty minutes.

This happened to be the length of an episode of Scrubs.

Soon enough, however, Edward's TV time was interrupted by Alfons walking in the door. "I'm home!" he declared, though there wasn't much need. The living room was hardly ten yards away from the front door. It was pretty clear to Edward whenever someone came home. He rolled his eyes and pretended not to notice.

Alfons set his tennis racket down by the front door and strode over to the couch, plopping himself down next to Ed. He stared at the screen for a moment. It was an ad – a rather lame one at that – with a family gathered around a table and the kids begging for gifts. The father, with a cheesy, blinding smile then stated "Who do you think I am, Santa Claus?" The family laughed and the commercial ended with the statement of the product name. He glanced to Ed, who was staring at it blankly. He obviously wasn't paying attention.

"So how was your day?" Alfons asked, trying to be friendly. Edward had really been surprisingly unobtrusive on their life in general. The only part of the house that he had claimed was the couch – he had been uncomfortable having an entire bedroom to himself – and he didn't move from there. They needed to prepare extra food for him, and Winry needed to help him to the bathroom occasionally, but otherwise, he took care of himself. He was just another person to talk to, not a burden.

Ed shrugged at the question, left shoulder only. Alfons couldn't blame him. "It wasn't too bad," he said, though he still sounded rather uninterested. "The devil woman came again." He glanced to the front door, as if expecting Pinako to suddenly appear. However, Ed's eyes quickly glanced down to the tennis racket still leaning against the wall. "You play tennis?" he asked. He sounded rather uninterested – more like he was asking because he felt obligated to. Alfons disregarded this. At least he was attempting to be sociable.

"In my free time. I have a high school buddy. We have an ongoing contest – he's currently beating me by ten games."

"High school buddy?" Ed questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Alphonse Elric, do you know him? We both played in school, so we started playing each other then," Alfons explained. He saw a flicker of something in Edwin's eyes.

"Alphonse?" he repeated, taking a pause to consider it. "I've never heard of him before." Alfons raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.

"Alphonse Elric? The head of Elric Corporations? You've never heard of him?"

Ed shook his head. "Nope." Alfons examined his expression closely, suspiciously. It was difficult not to have heard of Alphonse Elric. He had inherited his father's company at the age of nineteen, yet had handled it splendidly given his age. He had paid attention to his advisors, learned from any past mistakes. He often gave money to charities and hospitals. He was something of a celebrity. Not to mention that Al had been the one to introduce Winry to him.

Unless Edwin Eaton had lived in a box for the past ten years, it was highly improbable he'd never heard of Alphonse Elric.

And with the way he had reacted, it was far more probable that he was lying. The only question was why.


Winry poked at her food as she sat in the hospital cafeteria, watching the snowflakes descend outside. It was the first snow of the season – she always dreaded it. Cold weather meant weakened immune systems and icy roads. Neither were particularly pleasant things for a doctor to face.

Of course, it did signal the beginning of Thanksgiving and Christmas. Not that this made her job much easier. People travelling meant more injuries, more spread diseases. If she could somehow get the holidays off, it would be fine.

If she couldn't, then she would have to deal with hell.

Winry pondered this for a moment more, taking one more bite of her salad, before Mei plopped herself down in the seat adjacent.

"So how's Mr. Eaton doing?" she asked, immediately beginning to devour the chicken sandwich she had bought. Winry shrugged.

"Not too bad. Granny's really working him hard – I think he'll be mobile by Thanksgiving."

Mei nodded and pondered this for a moment. "What are your plans for Thanksgiving this year? My family's celebrating with the other half this year – I've got nothing to do." Winry smiled at Mei's self-invitation.

"We were going to have a low-key dinner with a few friends over at the Hughes's. You're welcome to come if you want," she said. It didn't escape Winry that there might be a few mild issues with this plan. Roy and Riza would be there, of course, as would Maes, Gracia and their daughter. They all knew Mei well and would be happy to have her – that wasn't the problem.

Alphonse Elric would be there.

Mei still held a low opinion of the man. Winry had tried to change it and prove to her otherwise that Al really wasn't that horrible, but the nurse had her mind made up already, and there was no changing it.

Still, what Mei didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Maybe the other people there would be a buffer of some sort. She could only hope.

"What are you going to do with Mr. Eaton for Thanksgiving?" Mei asked, examining the remaining half of her chicken sandwich. "Are you going to let him stay by himself?"

Winry pondered this for a moment. Bringing a patient with her to Thanksgiving dinner would perhaps make things a bit awkward, but on the other hand, leaving him by himself, with no family to speak of, seemed almost crueler.

"I'm going to check with Maes.


"Try and behave yourself, alright?" Winry asked, looking back at Ed as they pulled up to the front of the Hughes's. Ed rolled his eyes.

"What are you expecting me to do?" he asked, already apparently in a sour mood. "Throw the turkey on the ground and stomp on top of it?"

"Something like that, yes. So don't get any funny ideas."

Alfons chuckled nervously as he stepped out of the car. He wasn't entirely sure how good of an idea it was to bring Mr. Eaton to Thanksgiving dinner with them. He was able to walk now, so he wouldn't be too much of a burden in that sense – it was more his general attitude which worried Alfons.

Not to mention that his attitude would very likely clash with those of the other guests.

Alfons opened the door so that Ed would have an easier time getting out, and Winry walked past, holding a bowl of some sort of unrecognizable food. They were expected to bring something to the dinner, of course, and Alfons had done his part by making a copious amount of mashed potatoes. But Winry simply wasn't content with bringing one thing – she had insisted on making something of her own.

The only thing vaguely recognizable to Alfons was the blood orange sauce she had used. He wasn't exactly sure what it was supposed to be covering, however.

After grabbing his own offering of food, Alfons followed Winry up to the front door. He kept an eye on Ed to insure that the blonde made it up the steps alright. He didn't seem to have too much trouble, though he certainly favored his metallic leg. When he turned back to the front, Gracia had already opened the door for them.

"It's nice to see you," she said with a pleasant smile. "And the food looks wonderful, too. Please come in." At this, she stepped aside and allowed the three inside her home.

Roy and Riza had already shown up, as had Mei. They were currently sitting around the living room with Maes, who was looking through the liquor cabinet.

"I really need to clear out some of this wine," he complained, scratching his head as he examined some of the bottles.

"Whatever you do, don't throw out the red one." Roy gave this warning with a smile, already holding a glass of wine in hand himself. His wife gave him a look. She wasn't drinking, of course – though she wasn't much of a drinker beforehand, the baby insured that she wouldn't touch alcohol unless her life depended on it.

Maes examined the cabinet again. "Which 'red one'? I have a lot of red wine, you know."

"The one I just brought you, of course!" Roy declared, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His wine sloshed in the glass, but none luckily escaped.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, Roy," Maes assured him with a grin. "Now, would anybody like some? I've got red and white – no pink wine, sorry, that's just disgusting." He addressed this comment to the new arrivals, turning to grin at them as well. "And the hard liquor is off limits tonight. I don't want you lot to set a bad example for my precious Elicia." There was a collective rolling of eyes, but no one mentioned anything.

"What whites do you have?" Winry asked, walking into the living room herself to get a better look. Alfons didn't respond – he wasn't exceptionally fond of alcohol himself. He would maybe have a glass with dinner, but someone had to be the designated driver.

Edward also opted out of a glass of alcohol. He wasn't exactly used to wine. He'd had a beer or two on occasion, but wine wasn't something he'd ever been granted the chance of having. Plus, it wouldn't look good for a supposed alcoholic to be drinking.

So instead, he plopped himself down onto an arm chair, happy to stay off of his feet. He placed his right arm on the arm rest – best to keep it supported so not to strain the shoulder, as Winry put it.

He glanced around at the other people in the house. He recognized one to be a nurse who had come by to take care of him a few times. A miniscule dark-haired girl. He was mildly surprised she was of drinking age, but he took it that the glass of wine in her hand signified she was at least twenty-one.

He recognized one of the men, too, though not as well. Edward recalled seeing him once or twice at the hospital, though he couldn't place a name or occupation to him. The other three were unfamiliar to him.

Winry and Alfons stood, making small talk with the other guests. Edward made mental notes about the other guests; names, occupations, character quirks. Maes Hughes, the host, was a lawyer who frequently defended the hospital. He was married to Gracia, a housewife, and fawned over his daughter, Elicia, who was apparently taking a nap before dinner.

Then there was Roy Mustang. Ed learned that he was a surgeon and was also the one who had preformed the amputation – he disliked the man already. He was smug and over-confident, and seemed to have been there for a while already. Riza was his wife and currently pregnant with their first child. She used to work at the hospital but left due to the pregnancy. He still wasn't entirely sure of her occupation.

Mei was the nurse. She was sour about not being invited for her own family's Thanksgiving – apparently her half-siblings were the ones who got the dinner this year. She was single and bemoaned the fact constantly, and seemed to obsess over fairytale romances. She was loud and a little annoying, but Ed supposed that there were creatures worse than she.

Edward had also gathered that they were waiting on somebody else, though he hadn't been able to catch the name yet. Had it not been for his conversation with Alfons about a week ago, he wouldn't have worried much about it. The chances that any of them knew any of his so-called "friends" were slim to none, and he was happy to keep it this way. However, the name "Alphonse Elric" continued to reverberate throughout his head - he couldn't rid himself of that nagging feeling.

The other guests continued talking, and for the most part, Edward was ignored. Every so often, Winry would address a comment towards him in order to try and involve him in socializing, but these efforts failed for the most part. It seemed to Ed as if there would be no end to the talking for a moment – that they would all be stuck chattering away, waiting for that last guest to show up for eternity. However, an end was finally in sight.

"Sorry I'm late! And I assume it's alright if I let myself in?"

At this voice, two people visibly flinched. The first was Mei, whose expression suddenly turned from cheerful to pure hatred. She glared at the man who had just entered, nearly crushing her wine glass in the process. Winry tried to calm her; this was partly her fault anyways.

The second flincher was Ed, who quickly averted his gaze as if to hide his face. Alfons didn't let this fact escape him - he was certain the two men knew each other now. He just needed to figure out how.

Alphonse Elric walked into the living room, oblivious to the attention he had received upon entering. "Where do you want the pumpkin pie?" he asked, holding up the food item in question.

"Oh, just set it on the table," Gracia said with a small smile. "You can go ahead and put it wherever there's room."

From there, everybody slowly filed into the dining room. Edward found himself forced to sit between Winry and Mei, which he wasn't entirely sure was such a grand idea. From what he'd seen of Mei, she was a bit of a spazz, and Winry would probably only talk to him in order to check on his automail. It was sensible, of course, but it was a bit annoying that his health seemed to be all she was concerned with.

On the bright side, however, he was almost as far away from Alphonse Elric as it was possible to be. Al hadn't seemed to recognize him when walking in, which was a relief. But Ed was fairly certain that had they been sitting across from one another, he would eventually figure it out. It was best that he remained unaware.

The Hughes' daughter, Elicia, sat across from Ed, her parents on either side of her. She had recently been awoken from a nap, and still seemed a bit out of it for the dinner, but she was immediately enraptured by his automail. He let her take a look at his right hand as he ate with his left; his right hand still didn't have quite the minute motor skills to eat without bending the utensils yet. She played with the fingers, bending and twisting them and trying to catch the light successfully on various objects.

Edward found the food to be delicious. The turkey was wonderful, and the mashed potatos were delectable. The only thing he didn't dare touch was whatever Winry had brought - not even the cook herself would try it. However, perhaps his favorite thing was the pumpkin pie. He recognized the recipe, of course; it had been his mother's. But he hadn't had a pie baked this way in almost eighteen years. This made it taste even better.

When the gorging was coming to an end, Winry glanced over at Ed, swallowing one last bite of mashed potato. "Do you want to help us decorate the hospital in a couple of days, Ed?" she asked. "I think it would be good for helping you adapt to your automail." He shrugged with his left shoulder.

"Sounds fine to me."


"Don't put the reindeer there!!"

Edward was already beginning to regret his decision. He obviously did not have the correct sort of interior decorating skills that suited Winry's needs. If he tried to place the reindeer to the left, she wanted it on the right. If the Santa poster went on the window, it was supposed to be on the door. It was beginning to become unbearable. Winry sighed.

"You know what... Why don't you work on decorating the outside with Mei? I'm sure she could use some help..." she said, glancing around the lobby of the hospital. "I can take over from here." Edward shrugged and strolled outside.

It had been about a month now since his surgery, and his leg, at least, was working wonderfully. He couldn't run very well yet, but his walking was nearly perfect. The port didn't hurt much anymore - only if he overworked himself. His arm was at least movable. He could punch somebody if he needed to.

Outside, Mei was struggling with a large, plastic figure of Santa Claus, who held up an arm to cheerily greet all of the incoming patients to the hospital. It didn't quite fit the overall mood of a hospital, but Ed felt no reason to question it. He didn't work here.

Edward walked over to help Mei right the thing, which was easily taller than both of them. However, when he placed his human arm on Santa's chest to tip him over, his non-human arm somehow ended ramming into the waving arm of the Santa.

"Oh my god, you've knocked his arm off!"

It seemed Santa was not quite as sturdy as one might expect. Edward grumbled. There was a certain blonde doctor inside who would definitely chew him out for this later.

"I don't suppose you have any super glue, do you?" he asked, bending down the pick up the arm off the ground. It was hollow inside - that at least explained why it was so easy to destroy.

"We can fix that later, just help me put this thing up!" Mei screeched at him, beginning to teeter backwards due to the sheer size of the Santa.

"Fine, just stop complaining you bean-sized nurse," Edward said, rolling his eyes. He walked behind the giant Santa in order to get a better angle on pushing it right, this time careful to make sure he didn't put too much force behind it.

"Who are you calling bean-sized?" Mei snapped, pausing in her Santa-righting efforts to glare at him. "You're pretty short for a man your age, you know!"

"Hey, I'm average height!" Edward insisted, easily making up for Mei's lack of pushing on his own. Just as he was about to elaborate on this point, however, his eye caught an all too familiar face walking towards the hospital. In a panic, he dived into the bushes, simply hoping he hadn't been seen.

Unfortunately for Mei, this left the giant Santa absolutely no support, and it came toppling down on top of her, pinning her to the snow-covered ground. She let out a short scream of surprise, which drew the attention of the person Ed had hidden from. The mystery man jogged over, eager to help.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Mei thought she recognized the voice, but the sun was in her eyes and she couldn't make out his face clearly.

"I think I dislocated my hip..." she groaned out, squinting up at him. She could make out a halo of golden hair, just as she expected of her prince charming.

"Here, let me help you up." The mystery man put forth a hand for Mei to grab, then pulled her up out of the snow and out from under the Santa Claus. Mei clutched her side and leaned against the wall of the hospital - she'd have to get this seen about later. However, for the time being, she was more concerned with finding out who her savior was.

The man turned from righting the Santa Claus with very little trouble and Mei gasped.

In an instant, her feelings for Alphonse Elric shifted from pure, unadultered hatred to intense, fairytale-esque love.


A/N:

There wasn't a chapter last month because of NaNoWriMo. The people running the contest were taking part, so there weren't any phrases. I didn't give up or lose or anything - just didn't have the phrases so I couldn't start. So now the chapters are a month behind. Meaning they'll be celebrating Christmas next chapter!

But I slacked off on writing until about the fifteenth of December. So this chapter is kind of rushed, sorry. I might come back and edit it later after the competition, to appease myself if nothing else. No beta here, again, apart from a few major issues pointed out to me by CeruleanSan and Kiza. But here are this month's phrases:

1. Snowflakes
2. Beer barrel
3. Shovel
4. Oxford Dictionary
5. Blood orange
6. "Don't put the reindeer there!!"
7. "Oh my god, you've knocked his arm off!"
8. "Who do you think I am, Santa Claus?"
9. "I think I dislocated my hip..."
10. "Whatever you do, don't throw out the red one."

Can you find them?

And yes, the deal between Al and Ed will eventually be explained, as well as why Ed is "homeless." So just bear with me and try to understand that this is just my attempt at subtle suspense.

Well, until next month...

Enjoy!