Content/Rating: Mentions of assorted bodily injuries, mild language PG-13

Copyrights Disclaimer: Most of these one-shots are based on the manga. I do not own Edward Elric or any other characters from FMA (melodramatic sobbing and wailing). The Falmanedia definition of the word "spleen" is quoted almost directly from Encarta ® World English Dictionary © & (P) 1998-2005 Microsoft Corporation

Summary: Ed just can't keep a hold of his body. It persists in running away from him in bits and pieces - arms and legs and spleens.

~*LOSER*~

The soldiers were restless, the receptionist noticed, watching them subtly through her bangs as she marked paperwork and organized her files. Then again, they had been waiting for news of their comrade for at least four hours now. Used to the distressed behavior of the family and friends of the patients on this ward, she observed carefully, checking to see if any would find themselves in need something to help them relax. Sometimes people went into hysterics in the waiting room, so wrought with anxiety for a loved one they worried themselves into a nervous breakdown. This group, although wound into knots of tension, was almost silent.

The tall blond man had chewed his unlit cigarette to a moist, frayed nub while flicking his lighter open and shut over and over again.

The heavyset redhead leaned his weight against the wall, hands shoved in uniform pants pockets, staring moodily at the wall across from him.

The little one sitting next to him kept fidgeting with his glasses, cleaning them obsessively, as though clearer lenses would help save the life in the next room.

In the corner stood the eldest of the group, a tall, thin, grey-haired man with narrow eyes who kept shuffling his feet and crossing and uncrossing his arms.

Sitting on the floor next to him was an enormous armored man, trembling so hard his armor was rattling.

The only woman of the group seemed the calmest, sitting in one of the chairs. The only sign of stress she showed was a pinched frown and clenched, white-knuckled fists.

The last of the slightly odd group paced the floor like a caged tiger, mouth covered by one hand with the other arm hugging his chest. Dark eyes stared at the floor as he circled, ebony hair mussed and face pale.

The light above the door blinked off. The receptionist smiled faintly when the entire room seemed to freeze as seven pairs of eyes locked onto the door. The doctor was just exiting the ER, scribbling something on a clipboard. They all tensed and stood. He glanced up and searched the group sharply before finding the highest ranking officer there.

"Ah, Colonel Mustang, I presume?" he asked tiredly.

"How is Major Elric?" The officer asked, his voice low and calm. Dark eyes, however, betrayed his worry.

The surgeon smiled darkly. "Well, he's stable. He has three fractured ribs and two broken ones, as well as a snapped collarbone and a crack in his right shoulder blade where his automail port is bolted in. We had to take out the arm…well…what was left of it at any rate…to relieve the strain on his shoulder bones while they heal. His spleen had ruptured as well, so we were forced to remove it. The rest is just bruises - bad ones, but nothing else major. He will recover, but it will most likely be a couple months before he's at full strength again. He's lucky none of the broken ribs punctured a lung, though they came very close. Actually, he's really damned lucky; his automail took the brunt of the damage and saved his life. Not many people survive getting hit by a truck of that size. I believe someone mentioned he was also thrown into the ditch by the roadside?"

Havoc snorted. "He fell almost twenty feet before he hit the ground. That was most definitely NOT a ditch, that was a ravine."

The doctor gave a tired smirk. "At any rate, he'll have to wait for the bones to heal before he can even think about getting replacement automail arm, the weight would place far too much strain on the healing breaks, not to mention it would be damned painful. Oh, and when he does go to see his automail mechanic, they'll need to take a look at the ankle joint on his prosthetic leg. I'm no engineer, but as far as I can tell, it looks like it just snapped after being bent back too far. We think it must have happened when he landed."

Alphonse sagged with barely contained relief. "But he'll be alright…oh, good…" The groups winced at the sound of his armor screeching against the wall as he slid down to the floor. Al didn't seem to notice, just sighed and wrung his hands. "I guess I should go call Winry…she's not going to be happy at all…can I see Brother first?" He directed the last at the doctor.

"Not just yet. Now that he's stable, I'd like to give him a little time to rest. He did only just come out of surgery after all." He handed Mustang some of the papers from the clipboard and started to walk away down the hall. "I'll be back in an hour so to check him over, then we'll see about visiting. Good evening."

Fuery and Falman called polite goodbyes to him as the soldiers in Mustang's unit heaved a collective sigh of relief. Reassured of Edward's survival and impending recovery, they now lapsed into quiet conversation that would have seemed taboo not ten minutes ago.

"He said they had to remove his spleen. Is that serious?" Fuery was fretting. Havoc tilted his head in confusion, and couldn't help but ask, "The hell does a spleen do anyways?"

Mustang, Breda, and Fuery just stared back at him blankly, and Hawkeye shook her head and shrugged. After all their research on the human body and it's workings, Alphonse probably could have told him, but the young teen was still tangled up in thoughts of his brother and didn't seem to have heard. Then Falman piped in with his usual encyclopedic knowledge of the subject. "Spleen; noun. Definition 1: A ductless vascular organ in the left upper abdomen of humans and other vertebrates that helps to destroy old red blood cells, form lymphocytes, and store blood. Definition 2: anger or bad temper."

Havoc blinked bemusedly. "So wait…did they get rid of his innards, or his attitude?"

Mustang cracked a sardonic grin. "For all our sakes, let's hope it's the latter. That's probably better for everyone all around."

The others gave quiet laughter of their own. The humor might have been morbid and thin, but as the stressful situation wound to it's conclusion, it was needed for sanity's sake. As the chuckling died down, Breda broke the quiet by asking "Hawkeye, what's on your mind?" At these words, the group first looked at the redhead, then all turned to look inquiringly at Riza. She was frowning thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her jawbone. "Didn't Edward get tonsillitis a few months ago…?" she murmured.

Havoc blinked. "Hey, that's right, they took those out too…and Boss had to get his appendix removed two years ago as well…"

"Hey Al…" Breda started speculatively, "About how many of those metal arms has Ed gone through? And also there's the fact he lost his arm and leg in the first place."

The suit of armor shrugged and made a strange sound that was somewhere between an exasperated sigh and a choked laugh. "What can I say? Brother and his body parts…they always seem to end up going their separate ways…"

End.

Certainly not my best, just a little silly snippet. I figured I might as well post, since it's been a while for this one. It was fun, at least! :)

PLEASE DO NOT POST MANGA SPOILERS FOR VOLUME 26 OR HIGHER IN YOUR REVIEWS OR I WILL KILL YOU SO HARD YOU WILL DIE TO DEATH. Dead serious here, don't do it.

Let's see... news update on other fics... I've been working mainly on Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Sherlock Holmes, and Doctor Who fic, and have posted for all but Doctor Who thus far, so if you're interested, you should check those out. If you're already reading my SH fic "Skins and Hearts", the last chapter is mostly finished. I've had the worst block on it the past two monthes. Sorry everyone, I know I promised one week on that.

I think that's all for now. Ta, my lovelies! Until the next posting!