Somehow I always forget to mention this kind of thing...please forgive me! AL IS HUMAN HERE. Because I wanted it that way.

So yeah.

Edward had never been so terrified to wake up. But he knew, he just knew that the second he let himself be alert he would get that feeling again. Still, he couldn't lie in bed forever…much as he wished that was possible, he had work to go to. Ugh. Sitting up, Ed stretched cautiously. Okay. Nothing so far. That was good…he swung his legs over the side of the guest bed he had taken and—Fuck!

Sprinting to the bathroom, Edward tried to hold it in, placing a hand over his mouth even as he gagged. He felt a little bit of liquid sneak out, and sped up. This had been happening all week; he'd wake up and get sick, violently so. The past few days, Ed had also been victim to a lingering stomachache after his vomiting.

He made it to the toilet just in time, skidding the last foot or so on his knees before last night's dinner came back up with a vengence. Edward heaved, throat burning as it just kept coming. After an eternity, his stomach settled, and he fell back, panting lightly.

Ed stood, holding his abdomen, and flushed. He swiped his free hand across his mouth, turning to leave—Al stood in the doorway, openmouthed.

"Hey, Alphonse…" Edward greeted halfheartedly, thoroughly exhausted from his little ordeal. He made a mental note to remember to close the damn door next time…but it had come on, come up, so suddenly…

"Brother…are you alright?" Al asked, eyes wide and voice small.

Ed tried to brush it off. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't sound so worried, I'm tough, I can handle puking every once in a while." Okay, yes, it had been happening all week, but he wasn't going to admit that. It was…almost embarrassing, being sick like this, especially considering that aside from the stomachache and maybe being a little tired he was completely fine once he got that out of the way.

"Brother," Alphonse responded doubtfully. "You just upchucked for a solid minute."

So it really had lasted a long time; Edward wasn't imagining things. Stalling, he turned to the sink to wash his dirtied hands. "Lovely wording, Al, almost poetic, really."

"That's not normal!" his brother insisted. "People don't throw up like that unless they're really sick, Brother!"

"I'm fine," Ed retorted, allowing his tone to become just a little sharp. "It's probably just something I ate—"

"Roy's a decent cook, he wouldn't use rotten ingredients or anything that would cause this," Alphonse interrupted.

Edward glared, pushing his way out of the bathroom. "Well, maybe I pissed him off and he did just for me. It could happen." Ed blushed as he considered the mess he had made in the man's room last week…maybe revenge actually was the cause. "Or maybe I have an unknown allergy or something retarded like that. That would be just like my life, I'm strong and can do alchemy, blah, blah, blah, but I'm felled by an allergy. Point is,you don't need to worry so much about me."

And with that, he walked off, leaving a rather unsatisfied Al behind him.

Ed coughed painfully, another wave of sick flowing out of his mouth. Tears sprung to his eyes, partially from pain, partially from worry. This was two weeks now. Even he couldn't deny that something weird was going on, and Edward really didn't want to know what it was. What if this was serious? The last thing he needed was to know he was dying, or something dramatic like that, and to be honest, he almost preferred being ignorant.

Still, this puking thing was getting really old…and his throat was getting a bit raw.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the bathroom door. "Ed?"

Fuck. Roy. "Obviously this room is occupied, dipshit," he managed, before heaving again. He winced at the splash.

"I can hear you puking, Edward. Let me in," the man added, jiggling to doorknob.

Oh, Ed hated to admit it, but… "Even if I wanted you to come in here…I can't get up." Another wave. Shit. It usually wasn't this bad.

He heard a faint sigh, and then an odd scratching…and then the doorknob was gone entirely, transmuted away with ease.

"That was a new door, you know—" Roy began, interrupted by yet another splash of vomit hitting water. "I knew you were sick," he muttered, suddenly sounding much less concerned about the door. "Are you okay?"

"That depends," Edward moaned. "Are you worried about me, or me ruining your toilet?" Ha! See, he might be sick, but he could still be sarcastic. He wasn't too far gone.

"You know, I'm not enough of a jackass to be worried about the toilet right now," Roy answered in irritation, kneeling down next to Ed. "Of course I'm worried about you!"

It was like those simple words were an "on" switch, unleashing the floodgates. Edward sat up straight, breathing hard and began to cry involuntarily. "What's wrong with me?" he wailed. "Shit, it's been like this for two weeks—Roy, I'm scared!" he admitted.

He tried in vain to stop the flow of tears, more embarrassed and angry than anything at this point. "And now I'm fucking crying!" Ed hit his fist on his leg in frustration—ouch, automail fist to flesh leg, bad idea. "I don't cry, what the hell? And—and I can't stop!"

Roy's shocked expression softened, and he reached over, hugging Edward. Wait, what? No, he wasn't imagining things; Roy was hugging him.

If he wasn't so sick, if he didn't feel like shit—and indeed, if he wasn't blubbering like some idiot—Ed would have been pleased by this development.

As it was, he just let it happen. The two stayed on the floor, Edward's sobs slowly petering out. Only once his breathing was back to normal (which took a fair amount of time), did Roy release him.

"Can you stand up?" the man asked.

"Yeah," Ed muttered, keeping his humiliated gaze on the ground. Ugh, this was horrible. Was anything less impressive than puking your guts out and then crying about it? Using the side of the sink for leverage, he pulled himself up, clutching his stomach as he did so.

He could feel Roy's stare, and hoped to the god he didn't believe in that it wasn't full of pity. The last thing he wanted was the man's fucking pity.

"Get dressed. I'm taking you to the doctor's."

Okay, maybe the second last thing. Edward winced at the thought of a doctor; it was one thing when he knew what was wrong, but what if they did some freaky tests on him this time? Hopefully his imagination was running wild with that one… "Uhm, don't you have to work?" he tried.

Roy sighed. "Don't let this get to your head, but…making sure you're not going to die on me is more important."

Well…Ed could live with that. He nodded, limping his way down the hall and into the guest room.

This would be fun.

Duh duh duh...can I just say, I love the word "upchuck." And I don't regret that.

Let me know what you think~