Wow, somehow this chapter came out all angsty and tragic… Ehehe, I hope it's not too much! ^^'
Okay, a couple of warnings: There is some mild swearing, but nothing too bad. It's mostly Roy actually. He has such a potty mouth XD Also there is a lot of blood (maybe you could say gore?) but I don't really feel the need to up the rating. However, if anyone is uncomfortable or offended, please tell me and I'll put the rating up :D Wah, It seems everyone comes out kinda OOC (Thanks to 'blood-stained-rag-doll' for the correction :D Ehehe, sorry I'm such a noob when it comes to abbreviations. If you hadn't told me I would have been writing OC forever XD) in this chapter. Sorry about that! ^^; Anyways, sorry for rambling, enjoy the chapter!
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As soon as he had woken up, Ed knew that something was wrong. He felt too hot, and his chest felt sticky. He blinked a few times, clearing his eyes. Thin morning light was timidly poking through the gaps in the curtains, and his bedcovers had been kicked off in the night. Warily, Ed raised his head off the pillows to get a better look at his torso. One glace was all he needed to know it was bad. Moaning quietly, he let his head flop back onto the pillows. The large, deep wound on his stomach evidently did not want to heal. Blood had seeped through the bandages during the few hours of sleep Ed had snatched. A lot of blood. Instead of the small patch that had been there last night, Ed was faced with a stain of wet, sticky blood that had managed to cover most of his stomach and lower torso, and that was now spreading to cover his chest. The pain was no picnic either. It had intensified further, if that was even possible. He would have to get up and change the bandages himself. If Winry or Al saw him like this they would freak out. It was a good thing no one had decided to check on him yet, especially as he had kicked the covers onto the floor. The bloody bandages were hard to miss.
Oh crap, Ed groaned inwardly as he remembered the conversation he'd had with Winry last night. She'd probably be in soon to check the wound anyway.
Right, Ed thought. I'll just have to get up and change the bandages myself.
Ed bit his lip, and then attempted to pull himself into a sitting position. Bad idea. The resulting pain of tensing his stomach muscles was so intense that he nearly bit through his lip. At least it kept him from crying out. Once he had managed to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, he braced himself before attempting to stand. Again, the pain was so bad that his legs crumpled beneath him. Panting heavily, Ed lay on his back, the wooden floor cold beneath him. He was getting nowhere. If he didn't get up soon, Winry would come in and find him like this. And lets face it, Ed thought it'll look worse than it is if I'm lying on my back on the floor. Gathering his determination, Ed tensed himself to try and stand again. The angry wound momentarily blinded him with pain, causing him to throw his head back against the hard floor, almost knocking himself out. Oh God. It hurt so much. The wound was most defiantly infected. It was the only explanation for the worsening agony - and the fever too. After the surge of pain had passed, Ed tried again. This time he managed to struggle slowly to his feet. Once he was standing, he could un-tense his stomach muscles and the pain lessened slightly. Only slightly.
Oh, fantastic. Ed thought sarcastically as his vision began to blur, most probably from the combined effects of the fever and blood loss. This was ridiculous, and Ed knew it. He was being idiotically stubborn, but he could handle this by himself. Maybe the blood loss was making him a bit irrational.
He knew he must look terrible, probably worse than he felt. He swayed slightly as he turned the bedside table for more bandages. His jaw dropped in disbelief. How could he have forgotten?! He'd used up the bandages in here last night, to try and cover up the bloodstains. Oh God, he was going to have to go to the kitchen for more bandages. This was a joke. It had to be a joke! Could he not catch a single break? He could only imagine the faces of his friends when he staggered down the hallway looking like this… Mustang's face would be a picture. A wave of hysteria washed over him, almost making him burst into laughter. The thought of Winry's face instantly sobered him though. He had to sort this out before someone walked in. He would just end up making everyone worry more, otherwise. He didn't have time to act crazy, fever or not.
Realizing that he really couldn't walk out looking like this, he dragged himself unsteadily across the room to retrieve a loose black shirt to cover the bandages. Doing his best to ignore the sharp bursts of pain, Ed pulled the shirt over his head before gabbing a hair tie. With great difficulty, he managed to one-handedly pull his hair into a messy, loose ponytail before glancing into the mirror on the opposite wall. He still looked like hell, but it would have to do. His eyes were stained from lack of sleep, the shadows under his eyes looking like bruises, and he was extremely pale. A light sheen of sweat covered his face. He wiped a hand over his face before slowly limping over to the door. Maybe nobody would be up yet. That would be great. As he stumbled through the doorway into the hall, his vision blurred again. The small act of walking across the room already had him panting. His heart sank as he heard voices from the kitchen. It sounded like everyone was up. Perhaps it wasn't as early as he thought. Oh well, he'd come this far. Shaking his head to try and clear his vision, Ed lurched down the hallway towards the kitchen. He could hear Mustang and Hughes having a quiet conversation, and Winry and Al were discussing something near them. All the conversations ceased, however, as Ed pushed open the door. Everybody turned to look as he limped as normally as he could through the door. Al's face lit up.
"Brother, you're up!" he exclaimed happily. The almost forgotten feeling of guilt bubbled up as he realized he was keeping his pain from Al again. But it was for the best. Ed did his best to smile at Al, though it came out as more of a grimace. Roy looked at him suspiciously.
"Wow FullMetal, you look terrible," he quipped raising an eyebrow. Ed snorted.
"Thanks," he said sarcastically. Roy and Hughes looked relieved to see a little more character in Ed. He had seemed so empty yesterday.
"Hey, I'm just telling it like it is," Roy smirked, the relief reflected in his teasing words. Ed felt the guilt surge upwards again. He was, in effect, tricking them all. He must look a thousand times better than he felt, or they would have all started panicking by now.
"Shut up, General God-Complex," Ed muttered as he staggered towards the medicine cabinet. Hughes chuckled to himself at that comment, and Roy rolled his eyes. Ed's fever muddled brain slowly realized that he shouldn't look so eager to get to the medicine cabinet. It was suspicious. He slowed, grabbing onto the kitchen counter for support.
"How are you feeling, Brother?" Al asked anxiously. Ed cursed internally, and turned to answer his brother, momentarily abandoning his epic quest for bandages.
"I'm fine Al, just a little tired still," he reassured him. Shit, he cursed in his mind. He'd slurred his answer slightly. Maybe no one would notice.
"Ed? Are you sure you're okay?" Winry asked, cautiously. Ed winced. He had to get to those bandages now, before he messed up again. He nodded, as he twisted around, still gripping the counter.
"Gotta get 'em now…" he muttered to himself. They all exchanged worried glances behind his back. As he began to stagger towards the cabinet, the pain smashed into him again, catching him off guard. He froze, trying not to voice the agony he felt. This was a bad idea. He should have just stayed in his room. He swayed on the spot as his vision blurred yet again, and he could feel more blood oozing from his wound. He wasn't going to make it to the cabinet. The sound of scraping chairs behind him brought him to his senses. He turned around, clinging to the counter with his one arm. It was the only thing keeping him upright. Roy and Hughes were on their feet, and everyone looked shocked. It was almost comical. He couldn't help himself. Ed laughed between the pants of his laboured breaths.
"Edward, stay still. Are you in pain?" Hughes took a step forward. He tried to answer, but he was having trouble keeping his eyes open, and the pain was so crippling that he didn't trust himself anyway.
The strength drained from him.
He was vaguely aware of Mustang moving swiftly towards him as his legs gave way beneath him and darkness clouded his vision completely.
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He knew that there was something wrong, then. Roy leapt to his feet as Ed swayed dangerously on the spot. His jaw was clenched tightly in unmistakable pain as the blood drained from his face. Then he started laughing, almost hysterically, as he struggled to breath.
"Shit," Roy muttered as Ed began to topple forwards. He reached him just in time, and managed to stop him from falling completely to the floor.
"Ed!" Winry screamed at the same time as Al's cry of:
"Brother!" Roy gently lowered the limp teenager to the floor. He was panting heavily, his face deathly white.
"What's wrong with him?!" Al cried, struggling to get to Ed's side.
"Oh," Winry gasped as she knelt by his side. "Oh no!" She grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up to his armpits. His bandages were completely soaked in blood, all the way up to his chest. Al and Hughes gasped and Winry let out a choked sob.
"Damn it Edward!" Mustang yelled as he worked to cut the bandages from his torso. He cut the black shirt off the boy too, to get it out of the way. The wound beneath them was a mess. The edges were ragged and it had clearly re-opened. Blood was steadily pulsing from it, and it was beginning to look infected. As they peeled the bandages away, Ed jerked and clenched his teeth, his eyes screwing shut tighter. A cry of pain forced it's way through his teeth as he bucked on the floor, trying to bend away from Roy's hands.
"Oh Brother!" Al sobbed behind them. Roy looked around. Hughes was holding him by the shoulders, trying to stop the distressed boy from getting in the way. He turned back to Winry, who was pulling the last of the soaked bandages from Ed's body.
"Where is your Grandmother?" he asked her urgently.
"S-She went to buy some more groceries," Winry stammered, looking almost as pale as Ed. Roy turned back to Hughes.
"Maes, get Al out of here. You two go and find Pinako, tell her what's happened. We'll deal with Ed." He said. Hughes nodded and ushered Al out the door. Roy turned his attention back to Ed. He was obviously in an immense amount of pain.
"Damn!" he cursed again, "How did he get this bad without us noticing?" he growled. Winry sobbed again.
"He's so stubborn! He's always trying to handle his problems on his own, no matter how serious they are! He never lets on when he's in pain either." She cried in frustration. Roy balled up the remains of Ed's shirt, ready to try and staunch the bleeding with it. This was going to hurt him.
"Sorry Edward," he whispered before firmly pressing the fabric onto the wound.
It was like Roy had electrocuted him. He writhed under the pressure on his stomach, another muted cry of agony forcing itself through his clenched teeth. Winry was muttering to herself.
"I knew it! I knew I should have checked it last night!" Roy snapped his head upwards.
"Do you have anything to help with the infection? Antibiotics?" he asked franticly. She nodded.
"In the back, with the surgery supplies." She replied. Roy nodded.
"Good, can you get it for me? And some fresh bandages, some gauze, morphine and surgical alcohol?" Winry nodded again and determinedly raced off to the back room. The girl was good in a crisis, he noted. Roy kept the pressure on Ed's wound constant, despite his feeble attempts to brush Roy off. His normally smooth eighteen-year-old face was twisted in pain. Worry creased Roy's brow. Ed had lost so much blood… Winry's return with the supplies cut his morbid thoughts short. She dropped to her knees handing him the items he had asked for.
"We don't keep any morphine here as we can't use it for automail surgery. The nerves can't be numb when we do it, so we can't use it." She explained anxiously. Roy winced.
"That's okay. We'll just have to treat him without it." He said. Winry nodded hesitantly.
"Um, Mr. Mustang, are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asked worriedly as she studied Ed's face. He grimaced.
"You're forgetting I'm part of the military. I see wounds like this all the time as a soldier. We all have to have basic training in how to treat them." Winry nodded, looking reassured. Suddenly there was a rasping sound from Ed.
"W-Win?" he coughed painfully.
"Ed!" she cried in relief. His eyelids cracked open revealing the dull gold beneath. His eyes were unfocussed and he was struggling to keep them open.
"I-I'm sorry, Win…" he panted, "I made you worry again," Tears began to pour down Winry's cheeks.
"Edward, you're such a stubborn idiot!" she cried angrily, "Don't you know it makes me worry more when you don't tell me what you're feeling?" He blinked twice, trying to focus on her face.
"Sorry Winry I--" he stopped abruptly, cringing in pain.
"Ed?" she whispered, His eyelids flickered.
"I'm- I'm okay Win, but the room keeps spinning… I feel strange…" he mumbled, closing his eyes. Winry bit her lip, crying silently. Roy decided to cut in here. He had to get this wound fixed up, now.
"FullMetal." Roy said clearly. Ed frowned trying to focus on Roy. He tried again.
"Edward," he began. Ed blinked again, still frowning. "Edward can you hear me?" Ed's frown deepened. He opened his mouth.
"Unfortunately." Roy rolled his eyes, almost smiling Typical. Even in a life-threatening situation, Ed had to be the smart-ass. The situation rapidly became serious again, though, as Ed's eyelids started to drift shut once more.
"Edward," Roy said sharply, "Edward, look at me." Ed's eyes flickered open again.
"I'm going to have to put some antibiotics in the wound, but it's probably going to hurt," he began to explain. Ed coughed, and blood spotted his lips. Shit, Roy thought just how deep is this wound?!
"Probably?" he joked weakly. Roy grimaced.
"Okay, I won't lie to you. It's going to hurt a lot." Ed grinned lopsidedly. It was strange how carefree he felt.
"Go ahead," he murmured, "I'm sure I've had worse…" Winry sniffed, probably remembering the night, all those years ago, when Al had appeared on her doorstep with Ed, missing two limbs.
"Ed, you're an idiot," she muttered softly.
"Charming," he croaked, grinning again. Winry quietly slipped her hand into Ed's. Roy got the antibiotics and the alcohol ready.
"Do you have to put them both in?" Winry asked. "It's going to hurt him enough as it is."
"I have to be sure that the infection won't spread, or return for that matter. The alcohol is only going around the edges of the wound though, to help sterilize it." Winry nodded. Ed's breathing was becoming more laboured, and the blood was still seeping into the remains of his rolled up shirt. It was now or never. Roy opened the antibiotic gel and gently removed the shirt. Roy winced when he saw the wound again. The sides were gaping, and the skin around it was an unhealthy yellowed colour, visible through smears in the blood.
"Edward?" Roy asked gently. His eyes were dull, but rolled around to look at him none the less.
"I'm going to put it in the wound now," he informed him. Ed just nodded tiredly, a small inclination of his head. Winry squeezed his hand. Roy breathed in swiftly and poured the antibiotic liquid into his hand. He looked up at Winry.
"Can you hold him down?" he asked. She bit her lip, going pale, but nodded all the same. She moved around and placed her hands on his shoulders, firmly pinning him to the floor. Roy began to apply the antibiotics.
As soon as he touched the wound, Ed's whole body tensed. As Roy started to pour it into the wound, he convulsed, his head slamming backwards against the stone tiled floor. Winry trembled, but continued to hold his shoulders firmly while Roy covered the wound. Roy knew that he was going to have to put his fingers into the gash in order to make sure the wound was fully covered. He tried to do it as quickly as possible, but it was hard. Even though Winry was holding him down, Ed was still bucking violently. Ed's teeth were clenched so tightly, Roy thought they might crack. He threw his head backwards again, smashing it into the floor as he arched his back. All the time he was fighting to keep silent. However, despite his efforts, a muffled yet agonized cry of pain escaped his lips. Roy was amazed. By all rights the boy should be screaming by now. He had treated wounds like this before, and even the toughest men had screamed in agony. Yet here was Ed barley even crying out.
After what seemed like hours, Roy had finished with the antibiotics. In reality, only about five minutes had passed, but it had felt so much longer. Roy could only imagine how long it must have felt to Ed. After Roy pulled away, Ed had continued to jerk and twitch for a few minutes, his teeth still clenched, but he eventually became still. Winry cautiously released his shoulders. His breathing was harsh and irregular, but he seemed to still be conscious. Just. Winry sighed and sat back on her folded legs.
"Ed, can you hear me? Ed?" she asked softly. He opened his eyes slowly. They were dull and glassy from the pain. She laid a cool hand on his forehead, and almost flinched away.
"He's really burning up," Winry stated worriedly.
"We need to stop the bleeding now, before we can bandage it." Roy murmured. Winry nodded and started to pack gauze into the wound. The blood soaked into it quickly, drenching it in moments. Winry started to panic.
"It's not stopping," she said in a low voice. Both Roy and Ed remained silent. "There must be something else we can do to stop the bleeding!" she said desperately. Roy hesitated.
"Mr. Mustang, if you know a way you can stop this, you have to tell me." She said, determination blazing in her eyes. She reminded him of Riza. He closed his eyes briefly breathing in.
"I know a way," he said finally, "but I in no way recommend it. It's too dangerous." Winry stared him straight in the eyes.
"Tell me."
"I could cauterise it with my flame alchemy." The words fell heavily around them.
"You mean burn it to seal it shut?" Winry asked. Roy nodded.
"But it's too dangerous. It's hard to control it on such a small scale; I could end up seriously hurting him. Plus there is no guarantee that it will work." Roy finished. Winry bit her lip.
"I can't lose him, Mr. Mustang." She said, choosing her words carefully. "Do you think it will work?" Roy sighed.
"There's a good possibility," he admitted "but it's still to dangerous." Suddenly Ed stirred.
"Do it." He rasped.
"Edward, you're not thinking straight. You can't make a decision like that in this condition." Roy protested. Ed coughed.
"I just did," he panted. "It's okay, it probably won't hurt as much as what you just did." He said wearily. Roy frowned. Ed had already lost so much blood; maybe this was his last chance… Ed's weak voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Please, Roy." The use of his name caught him off guard. Edward had called him Roy. Not Mustang or Bastard. His golden eyes stared up at him, silently begging. "I can't leave Al. We're all we've got. Not like this." Ed was having trouble focusing again. Roy rubbed his forehead in frustration.
"Fine," he snapped "but on your own head be it, FullMetal." He fished his gloves out of his back pocket and pulled them on.
"Hold him down please, Miss Rockbell." Winry hurriedly obeyed.
"Are you ready for this?" he asked Ed.
"As I'll ever be," he replied, bracing himself wearily. Right, Roy thought. Three, Two, one… He snapped his fingers.
The brilliant flame leapt to Ed's stomach instantly. His eyes flew wide open and his mouth gaped in a silent scream. Of course, he made no real sound. Just like before, Ed's back arched violently as he experienced the pain of being burned alive. And then it was over. The smell of seared flesh assaulted their noses and smoke hovered around them. Ed slumped lifelessly back to the floor, his head resting in Winry's lap. He didn't move. Winry forced herself to look at Ed's stomach. Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. The flesh that the fire had touched looked extremely raw and blistered, but the wound was effectively closed over. She could still see where it was though. It wasn't healed, but the bleeding had been stopped. She glanced up at Roy. He was staring at Ed's stomach with a look of shock and relief, as if he too had expected something much worse. Winry looked down at Ed's face. He was frighteningly still and pale. His chest wasn't moving. Panicked, Winry put her ear to his face. He wasn't breathing.
"Roy he's not breathing!" she said frantically, throwing aside all formalities. Roy seemed to be in a trance though, still staring at Ed's stomach. Winry pulled herself together. There was no time. She would have to do it.
She gently tilted his head back and pinched his nose before firmly covering his mouth with her own. She exhaled, forcing air into his lungs, before moving her hands to his chest. Firmly, she began pressing rhythmically as she counted. Winry often had to do CPR during and after automail surgery. Patients would sometimes stop breathing to shock or oxygen starvation. She forced herself to think this as no different. She would bring him back, and he would be fine. She heard Roy stir next to her.
"He has a pulse," he said quietly. Winry glanced up. Roy had Ed's wrist in his hand, two fingers pressed into it.
"How strong is it?" she asked. Roy grimaced.
"Not very, but it's regular, at least." Winry nodded and continued to pump Ed's chest. Suddenly, his eyes flew open and he sucked in a long, rasping breath. Winry slumped back, almost crying with relief. Roy looked at her with quiet admiration. She really was good in a crisis. Ed closed his eyes again, drawing in air rapidly.
"Jeez Win, go easy on the chest…" he croaked in-between breaths. Winry sobbed.
"Ed you idiot, don't scare me like that!" she thumped him lightly on the shoulder. He smiled weakly as his breaths grew more even, and his face smoothed over.
"Ed?" Winry asked fearfully.
"Don't worry, he's just passed out." Roy reassured her. Taking advantage of Ed's unconscious state, Roy smeared more antibiotics across the burns on Ed's stomach before reaching for the bandages. Together, he and Winry managed to bandage the wound, and his ribs too. It was likely that one or two could be broken from the CPR, and they were definitely at least bruised. Winry gently put his head back in her lap, lifting it off the hard floor. She stroked the hair from his face, and felt his forehead. His skin was scorching to the touch.
"We've got to get his fever down," she murmured. The door clattering open cut off Roy's reply. Al burst into the room closely followed by Pinako and Hughes. They took in the copious amounts of blood on the floor and all over Winry and Roy, Ed's pale face and Winry's tearstained one and immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion.
"No," Hughes whispered, paling. Al blanched.
Realizing how it looked, Roy raised his hands.
"He's okay! He's just unconscious!" he insisted. They all breathed out in relief. Hughes stepped forwards, looking down at Ed.
"Good grief, Edward, you really do know how to make a scene." He sighed. Al dropped to his brother's side.
"Brother!" he said tearfully. "Winry, is he really okay?" She nodded.
"At the moment," she said "but he has a high fever." Al nodded staring at his brother's bandaged body. Roy stood and walked over to Pinako.
"Do you have anything for his fever? We need to get it down soon, it's too high." She nodded.
"I have a Saline drip to re-hydrate him in the back, and an IV to sustain him. We'll have to bring his fever down the old fashioned way; with cold water and a cool compress." She left to fetch the items. Roy turned to Hughes.
"Can you help me carry him to his room?" he asked. Hughes nodded obligingly. They hefted Ed's flesh arm over Roy's shoulder, and Hughes did his best to lift Ed by his other, armless side. He was limp as they carried him down the hallway. Hughes grunted in surprise.
"The kid's heavy," he said.
"It's all the metal he has to carry." Winry explained as she followed them down the hall. Hughes nodded grimly. Edward had a hard burden to carry. If he felt heavy to two fully-grown men, that how must if feel to him, having to carry that around all day? And he hadn't even got all of it on at the moment; he was still an arm down! Roy and Hughes were hauling Ed's limp body up onto his bed when Pinako came through the door wheeling two IV stands and holding a bowl of water with a small towel over the edge. Winry took the bowl from her and wrung out the cold cloth before placing it on Ed's forehead. Pinako wheeled the saline drip and IV over to the left side of Ed's bed in order to insert the needles into his arm. Al winced as she did so, causing Roy to look at him questioningly.
"Brother hates needles," Al explained quietly, blushing. Ed stirred slightly as the drips began to seep into his bloodstream. Pinako stepped back.
"All we can do now, is wait." She said grimly. Everyone's eyes turned to Ed's sleeping form. Winry nodded. Waiting. She could do that. She was used to it, after all.
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There was quite a lot of Roy in this chapter! Maybe too much Roy… XD
But I didn't want to leave it all up to poor Winry to save Ed, so I threw him into the mix as the "responsible" adult. XD Speaking of which, I'm not sure why I decided to throw Ed into a 'life-and-death' situation, it just sort of happened. Hmm, I hope it wasn't too much! Oh, and I'm not actually sure if you can burn wounds shut, or if that sterile alcohol stuff is supposed to be used, or even if antibiotics can be used like that, so please don't take any of what I write as fact. Hehe. ^_^'
Thank you for all your reviews folks! It's such a rush to know people like my story! :D Please continue to review, and I'll try to be nicer to poor Ed XD Suggestions, Crits and general comments all equal love, but no flames please!
(The next chapter might be late. It could take a couple of weeks, but I'll try really hard to get it up before then! Thanks for your patience guys! :D)