Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.

Chapter 2

Unexpected

"Winry?" Edward spotted his blond mechanic striding down the opposite side of the office's hallway.

Ed gave Al an 'I'm going to kill you' glare. Alphonse responded by trying to muffle laughter.

"What were you thinking, Edward Elric? That my favorite of the two Elric brothers was sick and you weren't even going to tell me about it?" Winry called, jogging to meet them in front of the door of the clinic.

"I . . . uh . . ." Edward muttered, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Alphonse called me and told me about his checkup once he found out about the argument you and I had yesterday," Winry informed Edward.

Edward gave another death glare to Alphonse, who innocently shrugged, "She's our best friend, Brother. I didn't think you would tell her, so I did. Now . . . don't you think you have something to say to Winry? Especially since that argument seems to have been started by you?"

Stubbornness happened to be a downfall of Edward's character. He would rather die than say sorry to Winry. After all, she was responsible for calling at such a bad time.

But . . . then again, what was she supposed to do? She worked for a place that installed automail. And he knew as well as Winry that such an installation did have specific rules.

"M'sorry, Win . . ." mumbled Edward, looking at the ground and shuffling his feet.

"I'm sorry, Edward, I didn't catch that. What did you say?" Winry asked with a wolfish smile, cupping her ear and leaning forward as to hear him.

The closeness of her body when she leaned in made Edward's face turn red as he leaned away from her, "I'm sorry, Winry."

"You're forgiven, Edo," replied Winry, straightening up with a smile of satisfaction.

Alphonse patted the two friends on the head like puppies and told them, "Good. Now I expect you two children to get along from now on."

Edward wrinkled his nose as Alphonse opened the door and entered, Winry following close behind with a swish of her hair. Ed grumbled under his breath, trailing in behind the two.

Once inside, Ed crossed the waiting room and came up to the receptionist desk and informed the lady on duty, "Hey, we're here for my little brother's checkup."

"Name?" the receptionist sighed, absentmindedly chewing a wad of gum.

"I'm Edward Elric."

"No, the patient's name," snapped the lady.

"Oh," Ed answered, face flushing, "Alphonse Elric."

"How do you spell that?" the lady inquired in a bored tone.

Ed heard Al and Winry giggling behind him. The blond young man tuned them out and counted to ten in his head to keep from punching the receptionist.

"She's here all day and is probably tired of talking to jerks," Ed thought with irritation.

"A-L-P-H-O-N-S-E," Ed replied slowly.

"There isn't a 'z' in it?" the lady asked, twiddling her hair.

"Uh, no," Ed answered.

"Are you sure?"

"YES, I'M SURE!"

The lady grimaced and glanced up at Ed for the first time, "No need to get flustered, Shorty."

Ed's eyes snapped open completely and he ferociously slapped his hands on the counter, "WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT THAT THEY COULD DATE TINKERBELL? FOR GOD'S SAKE, ARE YOU GOING TO TELL THE DOCTOR WE ARE HERE OR WE GOING TO STAND HERE AND GET GRILLED FOR THE REST OF THE DAY?"

Ed felt someone poke his back and he twisted around to growl at the interrupter, "What?"

His face immediately reddened when he saw Winry with a hand clamped over her mouth, stifling laughter, pointing at the admission room door.

Edward swivelled around and saw a male doctor slumped in the doorframe, looking completely amused with Ed's ranting.

The doctor lazily grinned, flipping some black hair away from his coal-colored eyes.

"I do believe, Mr. Elric, our receptionist will not have to tell me that you are here," he chuckled, his languid smile spreading wider on his lips.

Edward scowled at the man and snapped, "Who are you?"

Winry sidled over to Ed's side and easily struck the bristly nineteen-year-old in the ribs. Edward yelped and glared at Winry as the mechanic told the doctor, "You'll have to forgive him. I accidently brought him to the wrong office. Is there a ward for mental patients downstairs?"

The doctor laughed heartily while Edward gave an indignant huff. Winry pushed Alphonse forward, saying, "Here's your real patient, Doctor."

"Alphonse Elric?" the doctor said to Al kindly, shoving forth a hand to shake.

Alphonse took his hand and nodded.

"I'm Doctor Roy Mustang. Please, come into my office so we may begin the examination," Dr. Mustang told the boy.

Alphonse, Ed, and Winry followed Dr. Mustang past the admission door and into Room 3.

Dr. Mustang quickly and skillfully performed the examination. But every time he would check any of Al's lymph nodes, a scowl would spread over his face.

"Tell me, Alphonse. Do your joints ever ache?" Dr. Mustang inquired.

Before Al answered, Ed butted in, "What's that got to do with anything?"

Winry subtly slapped Edward in the arm as Mustang cleared his throat, "Unfortunately, everything. It's a vital question."

"Yeah, I do have a lot of aches . . ." Alphonse replied, looking strange.

"How bad?" Dr. Mustang asked.

"Sometimes it is only a little bit of pain, but other days, I can barely walk," Alphonse returned.

Edward gazed at Alphonse, "You didn't tell me about it."

"I didn't want to worry you. I didn't think it was important. Everyone gets sore," Alphonse told his older brother.

Dr. Mustang hummed in thought, then asked, "Alphonse, do you ever feel weak?"

"Yes, especially after I play games with my friends. You know, like soccer."

"And you've had dizziness and fainting spells, correct?" Dr. Mustang inquired, getting a nod from Al.

"What's wrong with me, Doctor?" Alphonse asked after a moment.

"I'm not entirely sure, Alphonse. Would you mind stepping out of the room for a moment? I wish to speak to your brother and his girlfriend."

Ed opened his mouth to go into a 'she's not my girlfriend' rant, but Winry stopped him with a shake of her head. Now wasn't the time for that.

"Sure . . ." Alphonse replied, smirking at Edward as he left the room.

Dr. Mustang watched him leave and muttered, "He's a good kid."

"He's the best . . ." Edward agreed vaguely, "But, why did you send him out?"

"Because I think I deduced his illness," Dr. Mustang sighed, "But I can't be sure until I get blood work results back from the lab."

"What do you think it is?" Winry inquired, looking concerned.

Dr. Mustang leaned back on the examination table, pinching the bridge of his nose, "This may come as a shock . . . I think it's Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia."

Winry gasped and Edward, being slightly unknowledgeable of medical terms, (that, and being slightly dense,) tilted his head in confusion, "What's that?"

"It's a hazardous cancer that often shows up in children, mostly," Dr. Mustang said, looking suddenly tired and sad.

"He'll live, right?" Edward asked, bristling angrily.

Dr. Mustang shrugged slightly, "I really don't know, Mr. Elric. We'll know the extent of how far the leukemia has spread once I get the results for the blood I drew. I just know that I'm 85% sure he has it. He has all the symptoms: weakness, joint aches, stomach pains, and most importantly he has swollen lymph nodes."

"So, you're telling me that he might not live?" Edward asked, feeling dread begin to well in his heart.

"There's a chance that he might not live. Like I said, we won't know that for sure until I get results," Dr. Mustang answered.

"You're a liar!" Edward suddenly yelled, stepping forward as if to hit Mustang.

"Edo!" Winry called out, grabbing Ed's clenched automail hand and pulled him back, "Why would he lie to you?"

Dr. Mustang wagged his head, black locks of hair falling in his eyes, "I understand your need for denial, but I must remind you that won't help your brother in any way–"

"No! You don't understand! You can't be telling me the truth! He's all I have in this world. If he's gone . . . I'll be alone . . ." Edward cried out brokenly.

"He might not die, Mr. Elric!" Dr. Mustang reasoned.

"Don't you understand that he might have a chance?" Winry added.

Edward's gaze switched back and forth from Dr. Mustang to Winry. Then, surprising them both, Ed gave a frustrated cry and crumpled to the linoleum flooring.

"Edo!" Winry called, dropping to her knees next to Edward and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Give me a word of comfort, Doctor. What are the chances he will live?" Ed gasped, trying to hold back tears.

"I'll be honest . . . it seems as if this sickness has gone on for a while. The chances he will survive . . . are slim," Dr. Mustang said slowly.

Edward couldn't rein his emotions anymore. With a muffled cough his shoulder began to shake, tears dripping from his eyes onto the floor.

Edward felt an arm hesitantly rest on his shoulder. Winry, again, offered her love to him, and this time he wasn't afraid to take it. He fell into her, his head resting on her shoulder. She stroked his blond bangs gently and whispered into his ear, "You need to be brave for Alphonse. Promise me that there will be no more of this stupid denial, all right?"

Edward sniffed and nodded.

"Good. Now, dry your tears. We still need to tell Al," Winry said.

Ed tensed, forgetting that he also needed to tell his brother about the sickness. Edward felt strange, suddenly realizing that how selfish he had been. Here he was crying about being alone on the earth, when his own brother had the disease and could die very soon.

"Do you want me to tell him?" Winry asked softly.

"No . . . no . . ." Edward gulped, standing up, "I'm his big brother. I need to tell him . . . I owe him that much."

Winry smiled and Dr. Mustang said, "The blood test results will be ready this Saturday. Come back then and if he ends up having leukemia, I'll give you information about where you'll be getting your chemotherapy."

Ed nodded and Mustang continued, "Thank you for bringing in Alphonse. I hope and pray he doesn't have leukemia."

Ed and Winry walked towards the exit and Ed replied, "Yeah . . . me too."

-x-

That Saturday, Edward stood quietly at the desk of the clinic, waiting for the results. The time it took to get the results out to them was a lot longer than expected, so Alphonse ran next door to get some fast food for himself.

Edward, feeling too apprehensive, refused to talk to Winry, who sat in a nearby chair looking as anxious as he did.

Edward's expression was vacant as he thought of his little brother.

"Al, this is so difficult for me to tell you. I . . . Dr. Mustang thinks . . . that you have leukemia. We will find out for sure on Saturday."

Both brothers were curled up on the couch in front of the tv, covered in a thick blanket to shield them from the cold late-December air of the unheated apartment.

Alphonse looked down away from the muted tv and stared into his mug of hot chocolate that he held, "Oh . . ." he muttered.

Edward blinked and used his keen skill of being insensitive, "What? No tears . . . no shock?"

"No, Brother. I . . ." Alphonse started.

"What, Al?"

"It's just that this is nothing compared to what you lost . . ." Al whispered, nudging his bare foot against Ed's automail one.

"Are you kidding me, Al? I'd have all automail limbs if it meant that you wouldn't have leukemia!" Ed growled, looking at his automail hand with disdain.

"That's kind of you, Brother. But while you aren't whole, I'm be somewhere else, eternally healthy," Alphonse replied with a tender smile, "I'll be better soon, but you'll never have your arm and leg back. And you have to wait to see Mother and Father longer than I do."

"What are you talking about? You just said that you'll be better soon . . ." Edward responded, blinking his amber eyes at his little brother.

"I'll be better. So much better that I'll never feel pain again," Alphonse said, smiling wider.

"Don't talk like that, Al. We don't even know if it is leukemia yet. Plus, if it is, you are going to beat it! I'll not lose you," Edward answered firmly.

"It's leukemia, Brother. I'm sure of that, and so are you. I can see it in your eyes. And I have a feeling it's terminal too, by the expression on your face."

"No! Don't say things like that! You can't leave me, Al! You're going to get better!" Edward's voice rose, desperate tears shimmering in his eyes.

Edward bit his lip, trying to fight the tears that threatened to slide down his cheeks again. He couldn't lose Alphonse. That little boy was the only thing he lived for. What would he do if Al . . . died . . . and he was all alone? Alphonse seemed happy to move on, but Edward knew his brother couldn't be happy about leaving him.

"Mr. Elric?" a male voice called to him.

Edward looked up and saw Dr. Mustang at the desk. Winry walked up behind Edward and grabbed his sleeve, preparing for whatever the results were.

"I hate to be the one who bears bad news . . ." Dr. Mustang whispered, fingering the results.

"Alphonse . . ." Edward breathed, searching for the absolute truth in Mustang's lowered eyes.

"He does have leukemia, as I suspected . . ." Dr. Mustang finally said.

"Oh no," Winry squeaked, leaning into Edward's arm.

"And . . . it's gone a lot farther than I originally thought. It's almost gone too far for treatment. He won't live very long."

Edward dug his teeth into his lower lip as his eyes welled up and he replied, voice cracking, "How–How much time does he have left?"

"At most, until the end of next summer," Dr. Mustang returned.

"And the least?"

Mustang swallowed hard, "He'll not live long past next Christmas."

"No . . ." Ed panted, voice quavering as he deftly wiped a tear from his cheek.

Winry wrapped an arm around Edward's torso and whispered in an emotional voice, "I'm sorry, Edo–"

"No!" Edward yelled, jerking away from her and taking a step back from the desk.

He looked at the ceiling and yelled upward, as if accusing the sky, "Why does this crap always happen to me? Why me? Why him?"

"What–?" Dr. Mustang started.

"We lost our parents seven years ago and on top of that I lost this!" Ed yanked off the glove that covered his automail hand.

Dr. Mustang only stared at the arm as Ed continued to yell, "I lost my arm, leg, and my parents! Now I'm going to lose my little brother too!"

"Edo . . ." Winry interrupted, motioning towards the door.

Edward turned to see Alphonse standing behind him. The younger brother nodded knowingly, "How much time do I have, Dr. Mustang?"

A word from Face: I believe this chapter was incredibly difficult to write. Just because I don't ever think Roy could be a doctor. His character was extremely hard to make into a professional type. Anyway, this one was tweaked to take some EdXWin stuff out. Although Ed was very vulnerable in this chapter, I didn't think now was the time for Winry to start getting too affectionate with him.

R&R, kind comments, compliments, and constructive criticism are muchly appreciated.

Thanks: SongoftheDarquePhoenix, dreamschemer, and Annie May Detective.