Guess what?

Y'know the lump that popped up on my sister's cat's side and we all thought it was cancer again!

It was!

But it was the kind of cancer that you just cut off and then stitch up the spot where it used to be!

I was going to write another chapter of my OG story, but my email got crashed by y'all so I went ahead and wrote the next chapter. Speaking of which, I think we're a bit confused about how this works.

I write the story and then you tell me how bad it is. Y'all are doing this backwards, writing the story in the comments while I accept the fact that everyone is way better at this than I am.

I'm kidding.

Seriously, I'm so proud and impressed with all of you at how thoroughly you're researching. Please keep doing it.

Edward was used to opening his eyes to bleached sheets and needles in his arm.

He was less used to the feeling of a mask strapped to his face and sweet-smelling air fogging over his mouth and nose.

It had been a while since he'd woken up to someone pressing a cold circle of metal to his chest - and tied to the bed he was lying in.

The Rockbells had only restrained him when they had to, when it was only understandable for him to thrash but they needed him to remain as still as possible. Knowing that it was a precaution had not made it any less awful and the memories were powerful enough to make him instinctively reach for the straps holding him in place and pull at them.

In doing so, he realize that he was not, in fact, unable to move, and the learned reflex turned into confused tugging.

The orderly who'd been listening to his heart had lurched backward, clearly not expecting Edward to wake up during the examination. The young man quickly composed himself, his startling replaced by a relieved smile.

"Oh, good. So that's why you're heart rate spiked. I was starting to wonder if I'd accidentally given you one fluid too many."

Edward stared at him, his hand still gripping the soft strap that was wrapped around his arm - it did not miss him that his automail was missing - and fastened to the barred frame of the bed. It occurred to Edward, with a wave of uneasiness, that the bed may have been designed with that very purpose in mind.

"Oh - no, that's not… it's not to keep you down, it's to keep you from rolling," the orderly said after a minute of studying Ed's confusion. "You need to keep off your back for awhile, let everything drain and clean itself out. It can't do that if you're lying on top of it."

It was at the mention of his back that Ed realized that most of the pain was gone.

It still throbbed, but it was less like the skin was fighting from tearing open and more like it was gently reminding him that the wounds were still there. Without thinking, Ed tried to look over his shoulder to see what state the skin of his back was in. The throb turned into a sharp warning stab and Ed obediently abandoned the endeavor.

"Yeah, it's not… there's nothing for you to see." The orderly glanced at the glass jug hanging from the medicine tree. The jug was more than half empty, a testament to how much of its contents had been pulled through the tubing into Edward's veins. Coming to a decision, the man reached for it, fiddling with the stopper that controlled the speed of the drip.

"Seeing as how you're awake, it might be better to give you less rather than more. If you start feeling dizzy again, tell me so I can adjust it."

Edward watched him, saying nothing, not knowing what to say.

His mouth tasted strange, sticky and coppery, like he'd bitten into a blood-flavored cracker that had sucked all the moisture from his tongue and the sides of his mouth. His tongue was pressing uncomfortably against his throat, as if swallowing hadn't been hard enough earlier.

The orderly met his gaze with equal awkwardness.

"So… now that you're awake, do you want me to tell your party that you're awake? The people who came with you," he explained when Ed shifted his head in lieu of tilting it, not understanding. "They've been very worried - and rightly so. They almost lost you on the way. Your lungs were filling up like balloons - the water kind. You still have some fluid where air is supposed to be, who we have you on oxygen to compensate for the lost space."

Edward touched the outside of the mask with his was his flesh hand, but it might as well have been his automail if it was plated with lead.

Edward caught sight of his hand.

His skin looked sunburnt with how red it was, crimson dots showing where spots of blood had burst into tiny bruises beneath.

"Yeah, you kind of look like a sun-dried tomato right now," the orderly said with a sheepish shrug. "It's only temporary. As soon as the toxins are out of your system, you'll shrink back down and go back to normal."

Edward wanted this man to stop talking and go away. Asking him to do so required more energy than he had. Ed let himself sink deeper into the bed and closed his eyes. Maybe if the orderly thought he was sleeping, he would leave.

This was the wrong thing to do.

The man pressed the cold chest piece of his stethoscope back to Ed's chest with a swiftness that made Edward wonder if his performance had been so on point, the orderly thought he had died.

The man listened for a moment and then pulled away with a relieved sigh. Then he gave Edward the most professional glare Ed had seen on his face so far.

"I mean it. You have to tell me if you start feeling dizzy or sleepy or just off in anyway. Otherwise, you'll start leaking again and there won't be enough blood in your system to keep the system going."

Edward blinked up at him, suddenly hyper-aware of the pull of air in his lungs and the soft pat-pat of his pulse as it echoed against the pillow pressed agains his ear. He remembered the way his chest had felt hollow, no amount of breath enough to fill the space beneath his ribs. That was probably why he was wearing the mask - it was connected to a rubber tube that snaked away off the side of the bed to what Ed could only assume was a tank of oxygen. Edward tapped at the mask questioningly.

Before the orderly could ask his unspoken question, there was a knock at the door and another nurse let herself into the room.

"Is everything all right, Tomas? I heard talking - oh, you're awake! How wonderful!"

Edward felt the last bits of energy he had left drain away. As if Tomas's incessant jabbering hadn't been enough, this woman's sickly sweetness was a vacuum sucking up whatever patience Ed had. He considered actually closing his eyes and going back to sleep, but if this woman's reaction to his supposed fainting was anything like Tomas's, Edward thought it might be easier to simply stare at nothing listlessly until everyone stopped paying attention to him.

He was not so lucky. The woman bounced to his bedside and pushed his hair back from his forehead like she was checking his temperature, then proceeded to assess his vitals by pressing her fingers on different spots on his neck and arm, despite the fact that the other orderly had obviously done just that.

"You have so many people worried for you! You must be quite popular. How about I send for them so they can see how much better you're doing? Can I get you anything in the mean time? Something to drink? Do you need to use the bedpan?"

Edward shook his head so violently that the world spun.

It kept spinning.

Then it vanished.

XXX

"…is what I meant when I said you need to tell us if you start feeling dizzy again."

Tomas had loosened the stopper, increasing the strength of the drip.

Ed didn't bother looking at anything but his fingers working on the line.

"No exerting yourself. No crazy moving around. You don't have the blood flow to keep up with any of that."

"Hmm," said the woman from somewhere Ed couldn't see. "Maybe it would be better to let you rest before you have any visitors. I'll at least update them on your condition so they know that you've improved."

Yes, Edward thought, gratefully closing his eyes. Go away and let him sleep and not talk to him or touch him or…

The door flew open with a crash that had Ed starting awake, then disappearing, then blinking confusedly back into consciousness.

Tomas was touching him, pressing fingers to his wrist and then loosening the stopper further.

"Sir, please, his condition is better but it's still very delicate. We can't have any excitement -"

"Who did this?"

Edward thought that if murder could could speak, that would be what it sounded like.

"Um… sir, I'm afraid I don't know what you mean -"

"Unless you can tell me who is responsible for this, I want you to keep your mouth shut."

Edward's heart sped up and the world turned blurry and wonky.

Tomas made a desperate whimpering sound.

"Please, sir, you're not helping -"

"You said he was awake."

"Well… well, he was, but -"

"Then I am going to speak to him."

Edward kept his eyes closed, willing the colonel to think he was sleeping, to go away, if only to put off the inevitable a little longer.

The thought of the inevitable made his heart beat even faster and the dark back of his eyelids swirl.

"Fullmetal."

He was sleeping. He could not hear the colonel, didn't even know he was there.

A cry of alarm from the woman nurse was the only warning he was given.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him upright and making him squeal at the pain the movement made. It was the first sound he had made since waking up. His swollen throat made it sound like a stifled hiss. For a moment, he nearly passed out again, his head falling forward as he fought the blanket of nothing trying to fall over his brain. Then Mustang's other hand was under his chin and forcing his head back up.

"Look at me."

Edward did not want to.

He knew what might happen if he didn't.

He realized it was probably too late, judging from the unbridled fury in Mustang's eyes.

"Why the hell didn't you say anything?"

Edward opened his mouth to speak, realized he had no idea what to say at the same time that he remembered that he couldn't really speak, and then just hung there by Mustang's hand with his mouth open like a fish.

The colonel's fist tightened, bringing tears of pain to Ed's eyes.

"Sir, please," Edward heard Tomas say. Mustang turned his head just enough to spat, "You shut up!" before seamlessly returning to his interrogation.

"Did it not occur to you that your commanding officer might need to know that you had been switched?! Does that not sound like imperative information to you, Fullmetal? Well?!"

Before Ed could answer - if he could have answered, if he could speak and had an answer that Mustang would accept - the colonel had already moved on with his interrogation.

"Who did this?! Tell me! I am ordering you to tell me!"

Best we not tell him about this, eh? It's already taken care of. Besides, who knows what he'll do if he finds out.

"I gave you an order, Major! Who. Did. This?"

Maybe he'll give you more. He could, you know. The law stops at fifty. For each time.

Edward hadn't cared about the pain or the humiliation.

He cared that he couldn't be useful like this. If he wasn't useful, Mustang would throw him out like the waste of space he was, and then he wouldn't be able to help Alphonse. He wouldn't have access to research materials or restrictions or anything at all that could help them find a way to fix what they'd done.

"Fullmetal, I swear to God, if you don't tell me who did this this instant, I will have you court-martialed for insubordination so fast, you'll -"

"Me."

"- think that the documents were signed by a train!"

And then, in a quiet, confused voice.

"What… what did you say?"

It was over.

Edward told himself that they were from the pain in his back when the tears filled his vision and then slid down his cheeks.

It may have been over, he may have been about to be leashed down to his spine, he may have just lost his brother's greatest and possibly only chance of finding a way to go back to being the boy Edward knew he was, but Ed was not a child.

He did not cry, least of all over stupid things like devastation.

He snorted the tears back into his face, wanting to sound like the respectful, professional soldier he was supposed to be and then hating himself when his voice shook like a frightened terrier's. He hoped that the mask cut absorbed the quavers.

"Me. I did it. 's my fault."

Roy's head tilted to the side and his eyes squinted as he mouthed what looked like unspoken "what's" and "why's".

"You… you flogged yourself? Why… How?"

Edward wasn't sure why the colonel was having such a hard time understanding this. He swallowed around the obstruction that was his throat and forced himself to repeat the words that had been said to him before the first swing.

"I… I d's'beyed a d'rect order… sir."

Roy made a dismissive noise and rolled his eyes.

"Of course you did, Fullmetal. It's what you do best. What's that got to do with…"

Mustang's voice trailed off as his gaze darkened with realization, his brows coming so close together that they seemed to combine above the bridge of his nose.

The only way Edward could describe the man's expression was murderous. He couldn't stop himself from whining in terror at what that expression might lead to.

It led to Roy setting Edward down wit the gentleness of mother cat tucking her kitten into bed.

"I will… be back momentarily… Fullmetal."

The words were punctuated by gasps and swallows as Mustang fought to contain his fury.

Then he turned on his heel and left, leaving the orderlies cowering from his aura and Ed closing his eyes and burrowing into the blankets.

He knew it was pointless to hide from the world, but pretending that he could, if only for a little while, was comforting enough to let sleep find him.

Unbeknownst to him, on the other side of the closed door to the room, Colonel Roy Mustang was giving orders.

First, to establish contact with Colonel Maes Hughes at Central City Headquarters.

Secondly, for his lieutenant to expressly prevent him from purchasing any train tickets until directed otherwise.

"Of course, sir, but may I ask why?" Hawkeye was used to receiving strange orders from him, but the peculiarity of this one, combined with the thunderous look on his face, made her think there was a crucial part of the story that she was missing.

Mustang's fingers rubbed together as he answered, making her grateful that he wasn't wearing his ignition gloves.

"Because if I'm allowed access to any form of transportation, I will take myself straight to Vanes Balt, find Colonel Holland, and send fire down his throat to cook him from the inside out."

Riza knew he would do it.

She nodded her understanding and followed him down the hall.

XXX

Alphonse could count on one gauntlet the number of times he had been grateful that he did not have organs.

This was one of those times.

Without muscles that could tire or lungs that could burn, Alphonse did not have to stop running until he reached East City Hospital.

"Where's my brother?!" he demanded, nearly tearing the doors off their hinges and making the receptionist scream as if she had been stabbed.

"Um… who is your br -"

"Edward Elric. State Alchemist. I was told he was here. Where is he?"

"Alphonse."

Al forgot about the receptionist as he swiveled around to see the colonel and the lieutenant standing in the entrance to the hall as if they had been waiting for him.

Alphonse did not give them a chance to explain.

"Where is he? What happened? Did he do something stupid? Did someone hurt him? Who was it?"

The wrinkles on Roy's forehead deepened and his hands, clenched into fists, started shaking.

Hawkeye, her constant calmness now more like the stillness of a funeral, met the holes in Al's helmet.

"We don't have that information yet, Alphonse. The colonel has ordered an investigation into what happened."

Alphonse looked from one grownup to the other and sensed what they could not say.

"It's… it's bad, isn't it?"

That stillness rippled for a moment, but only for a moment. It was more than enough.

"Yes, Alphonse. It's bad."

XXX

"Blood poisoning? So… someone poisoned him?"

"Not someone. Something." Tomas pressed his fingers to Ed's neck for the fourth time during their conversation, pausing to count the boy's heartbeat, then pulled away. He must have found Edward's blood pressure to be satisfactory because he didn't touch the medicine drip.

"You know how bacteria cause wounds to become infected?"

Alphonse resisted the urge to give a snarky remark in answer to the elementary question and simply nodded.

"Well, some bacteria produce proteins that are toxic to humans - or any animal, really. If these proteins get into the blood, they travel throughout the body and poison the organs. Especially the heart and lungs."

"So like… sepsis?"

The word sent a shiver down his nonexistent spine. The Rockbells had schooled him on the signs of impending sepsis during Edward's surgery. Remembering Granny's lectures filled Al with shame. He should have seen the signs, should have taken Ed to a doctor as soon as he thought something was wrong -

"Not exactly."

A terrible, selfish part of Al felt relief at those two words.

"Sepsis is what happens when the bacteria enter the blood through an infected wound and then infect the organs," Tomas explained, reaching over to take Ed's vitals for the fifth time. "With blood poisoning, the bacteria don't go any further than the wound. It's the toxins that the bacteria produce that get into the blood and cause the organs to shut down. Same symptoms, but different causes."

Alphonse had to think about that.

"So… like a snake? But germs instead?"

Tomas had to think about that.

"Yes. It's not a perfect analogy, but it's close enough."

"So… Brother needs anti-venom?"

Tomas smiled sadly, like Alphonse was a small child and he was a schoolteacher.

"If only there was such. Unfortunately, there's no antidote for these toxins - they're far more complicated than the proteins in venoms or poisons. The best we can do is help his body flush them out and then recover."

He put his fingers on Ed's throat for the sixth time. He made a noise at what he found and Alphonse felt a jolt of terror at what it could be and then a jolt of joy when he realized what it was.

Edward hissed in a breath and blinked open his eyes.

He looked at Tomas, who took his fingers away, then roved his eyes toward the armor leaning over him, who waited patiently for permission to acknowledge that he was awake. Ed smiled tiredly, as if he was waking on a normal Saturday morning. The mask hid his mouth but not the way the corners of his eyes narrowed.

"Hey, Al."

Alphonse reached out a bulky arm and brushed a leather finger along his brother's cheek.

"Hey, Brother. How are you feeling?"

Edward wriggled his arm out from under the blankets and shakily wrapped his hand around Al's finger.

"Al."

Edward's face had fallen, his smile being traded for a contemplative frown.

"Yes, Brother?"

"What if… what if we can't stay?"

Al tilted his helmet to the side.

"What d'you mean?"

Ed sighed and bounced his hand, bouncing Al's gauntlet as he did so.

"Here. Military. What if… what if we gotta leave?"

Alphonse wanted to know why his brother was asking this question, but knew that Ed didn't have the energy to do so. He decided to savor these moments of his conscious, speaking brother.

"Then we'll leave."

Edward seemed surprised by his immediate, nonchalant answer.

"Just… like that?"

"Well, if we have to."

"But… we need the… the r'sources."

Alphonse squeezed his brother's hand as best he could with one of his fingers captured.

"Then we'll find other resources. The military aren't the only people who study alchemy. Y'know, like Teacher. Or Xing with their alkahestry."

Edward looked doubtful, yet reassured. He didn't necessarily believe in Alphonse's optimism, but the fact that his brother was optimistic was comforting.

Ed made a face. The mask bobbed up and down as he smacked his lips like his mouth tasted weird.

"Hey, Al?"

"Yes, Brother?"

"Can I get some… some or'nge juice?"

Alphonse glanced at Tomas for permission, who gave them a smile that, unlike the previous one, was not at all sad.

"As long as you think you can stomach it, you can have all the orange juice you want."

XXX

"This'll take time, Roy. You gotta be patient."

"How can I be patient when time may not be something Fullmetal has?!"

An awkward silence.

"Finding out how this happened won't change that it did. You know that."

More than most.

Mustang resisted the urge to crush the phone's receiver in his hand.

"That bastard put his hands on my major. Every minute that is wasted on paper pushing is a minute that he has to destroy any evidence that there might be."

"Not all of it. There's one piece of evidence that got away."

Roy's grip on the receiver slackened slightly as familiar self-loathing made his fingers weak.

"I… I can't talk to him."

"Well, he probably won't wake up right away -"

"No, Maes, I mean…"

"What did you do?"

Hughes's voice had turned both stern and calm. It was the voice that he'd been practicing for when his baby girl became a rebellious teenager.

Roy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with the fingers of his free hand.

"I don't know. It's like… He's scared of me, Hughes."

"Did you scare him?"

Roy sighed again.

"I didn't mean to. I was just… I think he thinks that what happened was his fault."

A contemplative silence.

"Roy… You know what that means -"

"I know what it means! It doesn't change the fact that whoever did this was trying to get to me!"

An unidentifiable silence.

"Roy, this isn't your fault."

"The hell it isn't!"

"There was no way you could have known -"

"Colonel Holland demanded that Fullmetal and only Fullmetal be sent to Vanes Balt. I should have been suspicious. I should have refused. I should have gone with him or I should have gone instead -"

"So this was premeditated," Maes said, showing the observation skills that had earned him his position. "With proper testimony, we might have conclusive evidence that the reason why Edward was called to Vanes Balt was so that they could target him."

Target.

Like something to be shot to pieces at the range and then thrown on the burn pile and then swept away as ashes.

"When you were with him, what did he say? How do you know he was afraid of you, specifically?"

Roy felt the coffee Hawkeye had made him drink earlier slosh around in his belly.

"Roy?"

"He told that it was him. That he was the reason this happened."

Maes was quiet, then swore so viciously that Roy almost dropped the phone.

"Roy, you idiot!"

Roy did not correct his friend. After all, he was right.

Then he realized what he had missed before and repeated Hughes's swears.

XXX

Edward could not sit up.

His back felt like it was missing a chunk of itself - not that he'd looked - and he was pretty sure that he'd faint if gravity pulled all the blood from his brain.

There was also the matter of the mask.

Edward was rather proud of his ingenuity, even if it did make him look like a duck, as Alphonse described it. By shifting the mask up just enough so that his mouth was clear, he made sure to breathe mostly through his still covered nose while he sucked greedily from the straw in the glass that Al held for him.

"It's only orange juice, Brother."

Ed was too busy humming in pleasure as he drank.

Tomas laughed, still checking Edward's pulse every few minutes.

"Patients with blood poisoning and other forms of septicemia have been known to have increased appetites for citrus. It makes sense, considering that fruits are high in vitamins and vitamins are a necessary component in the healing process."

Edward hummed again, and then whined when his drink turned to bubbles as the glass emptied. He looked up at his brother imploringly.

"You've had three, Brother. Maybe you should take a break."

"He said I could have as much as I wanted," Ed said, his voice nasally, and glanced at Tomas, who laughed again and shrugged.

"I did say that. It does seem to make him feel better. I doubt another will hurt anything. I'll send for one more."

Edward's face lit up as Tomas pulled the call string for an orderly.

The door opened.

Edward's face fell when he saw who it was.

"Fullmetal," Mustang said by way of greeting, the lieutenant standing imperiously over his shoulder.

Alphonse, not knowing what was wrong but sensing his brother's nervousness, placed a protective gauntlet on his brother's shoulder and made sure that the soldiers could see his empty eye sockets.

Roy saw them, swallowed hard, and looked away.

"Fullmetal," he said again, stopped again, then started again. "I want to make one thing very, very clear."

Edward pulled into his sheets like a turtle into its shell. Alphonse flexed a large leather hand in warning. Roy acknowledged the threat with a cautious nod.

"I need you to know… that none of this is is your fault and you are not in trouble."

I am meeeeeaaaaaan!

I actually got worried about how long this chapter was getting and so just stopped lol.