A/N: Warnings for illness and things. Though if you've read this far into this series, it's all pretty standard by now. Hasn't been checked over for mistakes, so please read with low standards. Thanks.
Chapter 6
"You think it's a mistake?"
Roy had just returned from purchasing their train tickets back to Central, when he had decided to call and give Maes an update from the Inn's borrowed phone. It was late and Roy knew Hughes should be getting ready to sleep, but he needed to discuss this.
There was silence on the other line for a long moment.
"You think it's a mistake," Roy repeated dryly.
"…I'm worried." Hughes finally answered.
"Worried," Mustang echoed with distaste.
"Roy…"
"This hospital isn't equipped to treat him. They don't understand."
"Roy."
"They had him strapped to the bed. They-"
"Roy!" Sharper this time; Hughes sounded as though he was giving orders. "Just listen. It should only take a few hours to get from there to Central, but… you said they were giving him oxygen, right?"
"Yes."
"So, Edward having difficulties breathing while on a train… I'm just worried that moving him is going to cause him too much distress."
"The doctor was talking about having to take the other leg." Roy pressed his forehead into the wall. He shut his eyes tightly, fighting off the building headache.
Mustang's conversation with Edward's doctor had been brief. Brief and containing quite a few choice words. Roy was aware that acting this way wasn't earning him any points with the people who had been keeping Edward alive the past few days, but he was just insurmountably angry. Angry at the hospital and at the town… and he was absolutely furious with himself.
Hughes sighed heavily. "You trust the doctors in Central more."
"Yes."
"All right," Hughes sighed deeply, "I will make sure they are ready for him when you get here then."
"Thank you, Maes."
"Good luck, Roy."
Roy spent all of that night at the hospital; there really hadn't been a point in renting a room at the inn. They would be leaving on the first train in the morning. Until then, Mustang was monitoring everything closely and irritating the staff. They were still adamant about not letting Al in, saying something about the room being small and the equipment sensitive. Instead, Alphonse sat in the waiting room, refusing to leave the building.
It was the middle of the night when Edward first woke up from his troubled sleep. He began immediately clawing at the oxygen mask again, but Roy brushed his fingers away.
"You need that. The nurse says she'll take it off of you in a little while."
Edward's fingers hovered over his IV line...
"Don't even think about taking that out. You need the fluid and any antibiotics they throw your way."
"Morphine." The word was said with much effort and it was gargled and muffled by the mask, but Roy heard it clearly.
"Yes, they gave you that too."
Edward moved to take the line out of his arm, but Mustang caught his hand and held it firmly.
"No, listen to me. Just listen. I've seen your leg, Ed. It looks painful. It's better to be given some painkillers now than force yourself to go without it and then take too much later because you think you can't stand the pain anymore. Its small dosages and it's controlled."
Edward didn't look convinced as he gave the Colonel a desperate look.
"It's going to be all right. You'll get through it again. You'll be all right. I promise."
"Promise." Ed mumbled almost inaudibly behind the mask and Roy nodded. Ed sighed and closed his eyes again. Being awake for any length of time really drained him of his energy.
Mustang kept careful watch the rest of the night. He would protect Edward and he would save him a thousand times if that is what he needed to do.
"Promise."
The staff wasn't upset to see the Elric brothers go. While the doctor had advised against moving him, there seemed to be a general relief that Edward wasn't going to be his problem anymore.
The sun was just beginning to rise when they took the oxygen mask off of Edward and removed his IV line. Ed didn't seem really aware of what was happening; he stared dully at the nurse as she took the IV out of his arm. They told Mustang that it was the medication and painkillers making Edward lethargic and cooperative. However, as Alphonse carried Ed out of the hospital, Edward managed to free one arm from his blanket cocoon, and flip off the doctor. Roy realized that the boy was much more aware than they thought.
"Brother!" Al hissed. "The Doctor helped you!"
"Don't care," Ed mumbled. "They took you away."
"Nobody took me anywhere, Ed." Al sighed. "They made me leave because you punched that nurse."
Edward made an undiscernible sound in his throat, which caused him to cough. Roy hadn't really heard the coughing yet, but it was sudden, violent and prolonged. They hadn't even stepped foot from the hospital and Ed was gasping, with tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Doubt crept into Mustang's mind.
"Edward, if you can't do this…"
"I can do it, I can." Edward took a gasping breath and, thankfully, his cough subsided. Ed looked exhausted as he sank into the borrowed blankets in Alphonse's arms. His eyes shut, settling in to rest.
With one last glance at the skeptical looking doctor, Mustang turned and led Alphonse out the door. In a few hours they would be back in Central and they could start putting this nightmare behind them.
Just a few more hours…
They had been able to get a compartment on the train to themselves. Alphonse settled into the seat with his brother in his arms and Roy thought that it would probably be awhile before the brothers would be separated again.
As the train began moving, the Colonel pressed his forehead to the cool glass of the window. There was a headache that wouldn't leave him. It pounded at his skull and made him feel nauseous. The lack of sleep was catching up to him again and now that they were on their way back, he felt exhaustion descend upon him like an opening floodgate. It was a sign of how tired he really was that he was able to let his guard down enough to close his eyes and even entertain the thought of taking a nap.
Before he knew it, a voice was calling his name and Roy's mind stumbled back into consciousness. He jerked awake, surprised that he had actually fallen asleep at all. Alphonse was staring at him and Mustang realized the boy was talking to him.
"Colonel…" Al said hesitantly.
"What?" His voice was rough, and he coughed to clear it, "What happened? How long has it been?"
"Maybe about an hour. Sorry, you seemed really tired Colonel… I just… his breathing looks weird and it's difficult for me to check his pulse or his fever on my own."
Roy blinked as he realized he had never thought much about Al's inability to assess vitals. Al saying it was 'difficult' for him… more like practically impossible with no real sense of touch. Now fully awake, Roy leaned over and pressed his fingers to Ed's neck. Edward was too warm. After a moment, Roy realized that the boy's heart was beating fast.
"We should take the blanket away. It won't be comfortable, but his fever is too high. Did he wake up at all?"
"No, but I think he might be having a bad dream."
Underneath Edward's eyelids, Roy could see Ed's eyes darting back and forth. His breathing was shallow and every once in a while his body would give a small shudder. Roy was thinking about waking him up when Ed arched in his sleep and let out a deep, harsh cough. More coughs followed and the violent hacking caused Edward to gasp painfully for breath.
Mustang pulled the boy into a more upright sitting. Hoping it would ease his breathing. Edward's coughs shook his frame. Unable to take in a breath, Ed's struggling increased. One of his arms lashed out from his blanket and Roy experienced the reasons why the hospital had tied him down.
Mustang took an automail fist to the chest before Alphonse was pushing the Colonel away. Trying to calm down his brother and keep the Roy from injury at the same time. Roy fell hard onto the opposite bench, his head impacted with the wooden slate behind the seat and he was dazed momentarily.
"Brother, stop! You're alright!" Al was shouting, but Edward was struggling and choking so hard that he began gagging. Ignoring his new bruise, Roy stood up and maneuvered out of the way, careful of stray fists and Ed's injured leg.
"Alphonse! Put him down here! Give him a minute."
Al attempted to be gentle, but with Edward thrashing around, he ended up being dropped quite roughly on the opposite bench. With nobody holding him, Edward stopped struggling and just coughed and coughed until he vomited stomach bile onto the compartment's floor. Edward took great gasping breaths. It sure as hell didn't sound as though his lungs were working. Fluid. There was too much damn fluid in his lungs and Roy could hear it rattling around his airways, impeding the flow of oxygen.
"Go get water." Roy instructed, calmly. After a brief hesitation, Alphonse agreed and frantically left the compartment. After a long, dragged out moment, the coughing began to slow and Edward was blinking and staring wide eyed at the ceiling. Tears from the exertion of choking, puking, just trying to breathe, were trailing out of the corners of his eyes and into his hairline.
"Edward…" Mustang tried, seeing recognition on the boy's face. Ed made a noise in the back of his throat that Roy took to mean that he was listening.
"You need to stay calm. Focus on breathing slowly."
Edward made another noise and desperately tried to pull in air. His chest heaved with the exertion. The coughing fit seemed to be ending, but he didn't seem able to breathe evenly.
"How much longer?" Ed struggled to ask.
"A few more hours." Mustang kneeled, carefully avoiding the bit of vomit on the floor.
"I don't want Al to see… I don't want Al to see." Ed screwed his eyes shut tightly and shook his head back and forth, back and forth…
"What do you mean? See what? He's already seen you sick." Roy placed a hand on Edward's forehead, stilling the boy's movement. Ed's fever was raging on. "He's been trying to take care of you for weeks."
Edward's eyes blinked open and he seemed genuinely confused, as if he had forgotten that Al had just been with them. Ed's eyes darted around the train's ceiling, before some realization dimly dawned there. They were on a train. Colonel was taking them to Central.
Roy found deeply as he studied Ed. The boy was so sick. A constant, icy fear had settled in Roy's stomach, he felt the cold moving through his veins. Mustang removed his hand from Edward's forehead and fought back a shudder.
"If I die..." Ed forced out.
"No. You're not dying. You didn't die in that river, you didn't die traveling to that backwards, stupid little town in a cart and you didn't die in that shit hospital. You're not dying on this damn train."
"…paperwork for you." Ed muttered after a moment.
"Yes, a lot of paperwork. So shut up and concentrate on breathing slowly."
Edward's choked breathing continued. It sounded awful, but was beginning to even out. For a moment, Roy thought that he was regaining control over the situation, but then Ed let out a groan and he shifted on the bench.
"What?" Roy asked, "What's hurting you?" Mustang had spent enough time with Edward to know when the boy was in pain. He always wore that same pinched expression.
"Leg… they wouldn't tell me… how bad is it?"
Roy gingerly untangled the blanket from around Edward's legs. It had mostly ended up on the floor already and was really only getting in the way at this point. Ed was still wearing loose clothes that the hospital had issued to him. One of the pant legs had been cut to allow access to Edward's injured calf. Roy couldn't see the actual wound, but he could see that the bandages were stained with dull red and what looked like pale yellow pus. Mustang was silent as he stared at the limb. Ed needed more antibiotics; he would be fine with more antibiotics... but there was doubt in his mind. Maybe it was too late. Maybe Roy had been too late.
"That bad, huh?" Ed mumbled. Startled from his dark brooding, the Colonel looked up to see that Edward was studying his dismal expression.
"You're going to be fine," Roy forced the hollow words from his throat and they rung with a falseness that made Mustang grimace. Edward let his eyes fall shut again as he refocused on moving air past the pain in his chest.
"You're going to be fine," Mustang repeated and he was horrified at the desperation that clung to his voice.
"Alright," Edward whispered and the Colonel got the sense that Ed was just saying it for Roy's own sake. Mustang thought that he must have sunk low indeed if an injured and ill Fullmetal was attempting to placate him.
Just a few more hours…
To be continued…
A/N: Well, I wrote a lot of this while I was ill, so hopefully it's OK. I'm not sick anymore. Yay. Thank you to those who gave me well wishes. I appreciate you! I have to say that while I was coughing uncontrollably, I thought it was revenge for all the things I put Edward and Roy through.
I am going to be honest and say updates will probably only come every other week now. School has started and it sucks. I'm not keeping it together, seriously… I'm a mess. But I have the next part basically written… so there's that. Thanks for reading.
