September 28th, 2012

"Uuugh…" Ed kicked his legs against the couch cushions, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling with his arms under his head. "It's been two weeks."

Reid chuckled from where he sat on the living room floor, never taking his eyes off the case file in front of him. "It takes a little while for test results to come back."

"I know," Ed sighed.

"And then it's gonna take even more time for the supplements and drugs to kick in and start affecting your body."

"I know." Ed whined, kicking his legs again. "But I'm out of stuff to do. We don't have leads, I won't know what substances to research until we get the test results, I refuse to play another hour of Tetris, and I'm bored."

Reid leaned back, shifting his gaze away from the open folder to look at the ceiling. "Hmm… well, there has to be something. Do you want to learn a new computer game?"

Ed scowled, pulling one arm out from under his head so he could scratch his nose. "Not really. I'm tired of looking at a screen."

"You could… do some kind of puzzle or learn a craft—" Reid stopped suddenly, tilting his head with a face that was clearly considering something. "I know you don't have a lot of dexterity with your right hand, but I think you could pull it off." He looked at the clock on the wall. "It's almost time for my lunch break. We can go to the store then."

Blinking, Ed opened his mouth. "Why…?" He shook his head. "Wait, what can I pull off?"

Reid only smiled mischievously, looking back at his papers. "You'll see."

"That's not suspicious at all." But at least his curiosity about what Reid was up to would distract him from his boredom. "You're working a new case, right? What's the crime?"

"It's a string of robberies in New York. Just trying to find some connections and leads to give the police." Reid's eyes darted back and forth across the page, finger sliding downward as he consumed his usual 20,000 words per minute.

Ed smirked to himself and looked back at the ceiling, recalling the past sixteen days. He was pretty sure Reid had consulted on four different cases, something the BAU apparently did in between the more hands-on, serial killer cases, and the rest of the team was alternating between working with Reid and investigating their own assignments. In their free time, they had taken Ed to a lab to get bloodwork done, but they opted not to get a physical, afraid whoever performed it would start talking about Ed's 'advanced prosthetics.' They had already attracted attention during the examination after he lost his gallbladder, and that exam hadn't been of his entire body. They went on to swab his mouth to get DNA, hoping to find out more about his chemical make-up. Ed had studied extensively about the impacts of various drugs and supplements on the human body, and of course, he already knew how most chemical building blocks interacted. He was an alchemist, after all, and it hadn't taken long to figure out that the basic components in this world were the same as the ones in his.

But now it was just a waiting game. There were entirely too many options, and he couldn't research every one, so he had to wait until he knew where their focus would be centered. He had to wait for the results. He had to just sit… and… wait.

"Okay." Reid scratched down a final note and closed the folder, gathering up all the documents and moving toward the single drawer filing cabinet in the corner. He put away the files, locked them up, and then started walking back across the room toward the front door. "Come on."

Pursing his lips, Ed jumped off the couch and followed, his curiosity swelling as they put their shoes on at the door. "Do I get a hint?"

"Hmm…" Reid smirked to himself, lacing up his sneakers. "I think you would like to build things. It's related to that."

Ed frowned, trying to think of what might fall into that category as he finished putting on his second shoe and straightened up. "Um… is it some kind of woodworking?"

"Nope." Reid finished the knot and grabbed his messenger bag from the coat rack on the wall. "Come on. It'll be a bit of a walk, but we're close to the edge of the city, and I know of a store that will have exactly what I'm looking for."

Ed quirked a brow and followed Reid out the door, continuing to think as they moved down the driveway. "Uh, building something… metal? Maybe… something like automail, like building a mechanical machine?"

"Huh-uh."

"Um…" Ed thought about it for a moment. "Is it something that's going to help me learn how to build an airplane? 'Cause I'm gonna need to know that for when I get back to my world." And as helpful as the articles he had been printing out were, he felt like some firsthand experience would go a lot farther.

Reid laughed, slipping his hands into his pockets as they made their way toward the city. "It's not a plane. It's kind of a toy, but—"

"Hey, I'm not some little kid!" Ed objected without having to think about it.

"I was going to say that it's kind of a toy, but lots of teenagers and adults play with them, too, as a hobby. I think there's even competitions, but I'm not completely sure. They were never really of interest to me."

Ed squinted, still mildly put off by the words 'toy' and 'play,' but he really had no idea what kind of thing Reid could be talking about. He remembered playing with wooden blocks as a child, but they were fairly simple, and he couldn't see how that would be appealing to him—or anyone else over the age of six—now.

"What kinds of things do you learn in school?" Reid asked suddenly, glancing at the boy on his left. "We talked a bit about how you joined the military when you were twelve. I take it that means you weren't in school anymore?"

Ed nodded, giving Reid a curious look.

"Is that normal? Like, do kids just stop going to school at age ten or something?"

Nodding again, Ed put his eyes on the road, taking in the trees and grass but easily able to see an influx of buildings in the distance. "Yeah. I mean, if you were rich, you could keep going. Like if you wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer or something."

Reid pursed his lips, brow creasing slightly. "But… to be a scientist you don't?"

"Well—" Ed stopped suddenly, realizing he wasn't sure of the answer to the question. "I mean, I guess if you did it normally you would. My situation was… different, and when I got into alchemy, it wasn't really like… I didn't learn about ways to pursue it as a career because I didn't really see it as a job, I just…" He swallowed. "I just saw it as a way to get my mom back. That's all I could really think about." He glanced away. "But, uh, but I'll have to ask some other alchemists, like maybe my colonel. Especially with him doing a specific, new kind of alchemy, he would know if you have to go to formal school for that."

Reid didn't say anything for a moment. "That makes sense." He chuckled softly. "I never knew what to do with my genius, either. I had a lot going on, and I knew I wanted to help people, but… I didn't really know how I wanted to help people. I sort of made it up as I went along."

"Yeah, I can relate to that." Ed smirked to himself, thinking of all the things he had come up with on the fly. Right before he was transported to this world, he had figured out how to escape Gluttony's stomach while inside Envy's mouth, about to die, so… he had some experience with creating a solution at the absolute last minute, no plan necessary. "I guess it worked out for us."

Reid glanced over his shoulder, and then his eyes followed a car as it passed in the lane next to them. "How do you drive in Amestris?"

"Opposite from how you guys drive. Our steering wheels are on the other side, too."

"Oh, like the United Kingdom." Reid waved it off, probably realizing Ed wouldn't know what he meant. "It's a country across the sea. We're from there, actually, so it's funny to me that we wound up doing certain things so differently."

Ed rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, trying to loosen up the tension his time lying on the couch had created. "Are you the same country? Like, you're connected, you're just in different places?"

"No, but it started that way. We were colonists, but we didn't like how England—part of the United Kingdom—was treating us. We rebelled and started the Revolutionary War, and with a lot of hard work on our end, and help from other countries like France and Spain, we won, and we created our own country." Reid wet his lips, thinking for a moment, and then he sighed. "If you look at any country's history, you're going to find atrocities. We're no different, and we destroyed a lot of things to establish ourselves." He shrugged. "It's not that I'm not proud of my country, I just… think we need to be aware of our flaws." He opened his mouth like he was going to continue to explain, but Ed cut him off.

"I know." He glanced off to his left, watching the trees grow thinner. "I…" He thought of the people he knew, the history he knew, the kindness he had been shown by war criminals, and the murderous rampage carried out by one of the war's victims. "I just know."

They lapsed into a silence, but after a few minutes, Reid spoke. "You know we're gonna get you home, right?"

Ed looked up at the doctor, initially surprised, but then a smile pulled on the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I know. And if you don't, I'll get myself home." He sniffed, tilting his head back slightly. "There's pretty much nothing I can't do."

"Well, there's even less I can't do." Reid imitated the sniff and expression. "I'm basically perfect."

"Maybe, but you're not as perfect as me."

"That's correct. If I were as perfect as you, I would be less perfect than I currently am."

Ed and Reid glared at each other, maintaining the seriousness for about three seconds before they both started laughing. Reid ran a hand through his floppy, brown hair and gave Ed a wide smile. "I'm gonna miss you when you're gone."

Ed felt a twinge in his chest, but he flashed a smile of his own. "Yeah. I'm gonna miss you, too."


September 30th, 2012

Reid smirked to himself, standing at the kitchen counter with Rossi and enjoying the Sunday vibe. Every now and then, he would lean far enough to peek into the living room and catch a glimpse of Ed's red sweat jacket, and that was where his self-satisfied little smirk was coming from.

"He seems to really like them," Rossi commented, sipping his darjeeling.

"I was afraid he would think they were for little kids, but when we got there, a young man was buying a Lord of the Rings set." Reid took a drink of his orange juice. "I was so ready to show him videos on YouTube of teens and adults assembling Lego sets if that hadn't happened."

"Well, if he had any reservations, they went away pretty quickly." Rossi chuckled. "If he keeps going at this rate, we're going to have to find a place to put them his creations."

Reid smiled against his cup, sipping slowly. "He might only get to finish a couple. If this new theory about fortifying his body works, he'll be going home soon."

"And… how are you feeling about that?" Rossi arched a brow.

Reid responded dismissively, but the question hit him in the chest. "I'm excited. It's gonna be good for him."

"It is. It's also going to be hard. For both of you." Dark eyes peered at him with something like amusement, as if to say, 'Are you really trying this with me?'

"It's life, Rossi. People leave. You have to say goodbye." Reid opened his mouth to continue but let out a sigh instead. "I know it doesn't work that way. You don't just acknowledge reality and stop feeling things."

Rossi gave a sideways kind of nod. "It's almost like death."

Reid blinked. That's extreme.

"You know it's coming, and you're not sure what's gonna happen after, and you can't pretend it's never going to get here or that you'll be ready when it does, but," he shrugged, "if you spend your whole life framing everything in how it's going to end, you might as well skip right to that part."

Lips twitched into a smile. "Yeah. I guess so." Reid took another drink, feeling the tang on his tongue. "It gets harder to ignore the closer it gets." He smiled again. "I guess you'd know all about that, huh?"

"Don't make me come over there," the older agent muttered dryly.

Reid chuckled, and then there was a silence. "I think…" he started slowly, "…I'm gonna go see if he wants some help." He drained the rest of his glass and set it on the bar, giving Rossi a smile before walking into the living room. "Hey, Ed."

Ed didn't even look up from what he was doing, eyes moving between the instructions and the pieces he had painstakingly sorted. "Hey, Reid." He squinted slightly, reaching to his right and grabbing some light gray rectangles. "What's up?"

"I, uh—" Reid struggled for a moment, and he thought it was a bit ridiculous that he was just as clueless about how to join people in his thirties as he had been at age twelve. "I've never really done anything with Legos before, and I thought, if it's okay with you—"

"Sure!" Ed still wasn't looking away from his project, but he placed the instruction booklet on the floor where they could both see it. "I'm still making the foundation for this one."

Reid lowered himself to the carpet, sitting cross-legged and leaning forward so he could see the book. "This is Villa Savoye, right?"

Ed nodded and slid to the left a bit, making room for Reid to get closer to the very basic structure in front of them. "Yeah," he muttered, looking at the instructions and grabbing some more blocks.

Smiling to himself, Reid scooted closer. He remembered his brief confusion when Ed had picked out such a colorless, plainly shaped structure to build. Ed had been quick to explain it looked really futuristic, which made sense because it was pretty modern even to Reid, and Ed was from the early 1900s. Ed had insisted he would add his own, personal touches—Reid didn't doubt that was true—and he had been quick to grab a Star Wars starfighter model to go with it. He said they matched.

"Let me see…" Reid moved a little closer, feeling a soft warmth in his chest. "Okay, so if you're doing this section, then maybe I can…"


October 3rd, 2012

"He hasn't left his room all day, and he won't talk to me."

JJ stared at the closed door, recalling what Reid had said when he presented his request. She wet her lips and lifted her hand, knocking softly and raising her voice just enough to be heard through the barrier. "Hey, Ed. It's me."

Silence.

"I just want to make sure you're okay. We don't have to talk about whatever's bothering you." JJ rocked back on her heels, placing her hands against the stomach of her pale blue sweater. "Is it pain? I know we're coming up on two weeks since the last time you dealt with it." She waited another minute, unsure of what to do. She may have been the most maternal person on the team, but her own son was nowhere near his teen years, and she really didn't have a lot of experience helping fifteen-year-old boys. "Can I come in?"

For a moment, there was nothing, but then came the quiet thud of what she hoped was feet hitting the ground. She waited, and after a few seconds, the door creaked open, golden eyes peering up at her.

"Hey." JJ smiled kindly. "It's almost dinnertime. Do you think you'll be able to join us?"

Ed shook his head silently.

"Okay." She didn't lose her smile. "Do you want me to bring you some when it's ready?"

He gave the same response.

"Can I come in? Maybe we can talk." JJ shrugged, trying not to pressure him but still bearing a hopeful expression. "I know it's not always fun to talk about things, but it's not like you're making some huge commitment. If you start talking and then change your mind, you can stop."

Ed didn't react at first, but then he took a couple steps back and left the door open. JJ stepped over the threshold, moving cautiously both literally and metaphorically.

"Have you been in the dark this whole time?" She looked around at the nearly black room, the faint slivers of light around the closed curtains doing little to illuminate. "Do you have a headache? Or did you just want to be in the dark?" she asked, trying to navigate to where she believed the bed was.

"I don't have a headache." Ed took a few, heavy steps and fell onto the mattress. Or at least, that's what it sounded like.

"I understand. Sometimes you just need to curl up in the dark." JJ shrugged, reaching out and feeling her way to a seat on the foot of the bed. "Do you want to try and talk? Or should we just sit here for a bit?"

Ed didn't say anything, but she thought she heard the clink of metal, maybe indicating he had shrugged. So JJ clasped her hands together and set them in her lap, feeling somewhat stiff as she stared at the square outline of light in front of her.

He could be getting discouraged—maybe even depressed—by the lack of progress. We've gotten most of the tests back, but there are so many possible implications and ways to change his physical state that it's impossible to find the answer we're looking for with any kind of speed. It could also be homesickness. Even if he doesn't doubt we're going to get him home, I'm sure being away from his brother and friends for so long is—

"We didn't want to turn back."

JJ turned her head, and even though she couldn't make out much in the dark, she could hear the distress in Ed's voice. Not quite shaking, not quite tearful, but getting close. "You and Al?"

Ed inhaled. "Yeah." He stayed quiet for a few moments. "We… we knew we were facing impossible odds, and… we didn't want discouragement or fear to have a chance to beat us and send us back home." Pause. "We burned our house down."

Eyes widening slightly, JJ allowed a moment of surprise before she dipped her head. "I can see that. No retreat, right?"

"Yeah," Ed whispered.

For several seconds, there was nothing, and JJ felt like she was supposed to be inferring something from what he said, but she didn't know what. Obviously, there had been some kind of trigger, but there was no telling what that trigger might have been. He could have had a nightmare, he could have read something while researching, or he could have just been bogged down in defeat and thinking he was never going back to his world, let alone his home. It could have been numerous things.

"That must have been hard." JJ flexed her fingers, twisting her hands as she tried to put the right words together. "Losing your house in a fire can be very traumatic, and being the one who struck the match doesn't necessarily make it any less painful."

"I… recently, there was… someone… who told me…" Ed struggled with his words for a moment. "He said it wasn't really about not turning back. He said I did it to hide the evidence. I did it because I didn't want to be reminded of what I did." He took a shuddering breath. "I… I don't know what I'm saying."

JJ shrugged. "That's okay. You don't have to know what you feel to talk to someone about it." She picked at her fingernails, a faint smile pulling on the corner of her mouth. "You know, trying to hide the evidence of what you did isn't an abnormal reaction." She looked to her left, able to make out more of Ed's shape as her eyes adjusted. "Sometimes you need to walk away and spend a little time without any reminders before you're ready to walk back into it and face it. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I did face it. I…" Ed stopped and took a deep breath. "I faced it. I found out that… bringing our mom back was impossible from the start. It never could have succeeded, and in some ways, that made me feel better. It's a relief. But in other ways…"

Pushing a curious tone into her voice, JJ pressed with a, "Tell me what that's like."

"I just… feel like I should have known it was impossible." Ed put his left hand to his forehead. "I was so stupid, and I dragged Al into it with me, and I tried to do something that so obviously couldn't be done." He let out a quiet, choked noise, caught somewhere between frustration and vulnerability. "But I did it anyway."

JJ wet her lips, watching the outline of his face, able to make out some of his features the longer she sat in the dark with him. She lifted her hand, fingers brushing against her necklace. "I know what it's like to want someone back." She fingered the charm, feeling a burn behind her eyes. "I… lost my sister when I was younger… in a very painful way… and I don't know what I would have done if I thought resurrecting her was on the table." She took a breath. "It's been years, and I've had help, and I've learned how to cope with the pain. If I were faced with the decision now… I wouldn't do it. But pain isn't rational. Suffering makes you do things you normally wouldn't." She paused, not wanting to lose her momentum, but wanting to choose her words carefully. "Trying to bring your mother back when you knew it was wrong, or unwise, or maybe even impossible doesn't mean you're evil, or stupid, or arrogant. It means you were in pain, and the only thing a brain that's hurting can process is how to get the pain to stop."

Ed didn't respond, the silence broken only by the occasional sound of air pushing through his teeth. It got darker with every passing minute, the setting sun quickly hiding whatever rays had managed to get around the curtains before. It wasn't uncomfortably cold, but it wasn't warm, though she preferred it that way. She had come right up to Ed's room when Reid asked her, so she hadn't had time to take off her shoes or get comfortable, but there were few things she enjoyed more than curling up in a blanket on a somewhat chilly evening. She wondered if bundling up would comfort Ed in some way, too.

"It was today."

JJ hummed softly, giving him a questioning look.

"October 3rd, 1911."

Pressing her lips together, JJ understood. It was common knowledge—at least, it seemed that way to her, given her social circle—that anniversaries caused the psyche to react in a lot of ways. She smiled faintly, knowing the expression would bleed into her voice, and simply said, "You're allowed to hurt, you know. Letting yourself feel a negative emotion doesn't mean you're letting it win. It means you're experiencing it, absorbing it, being human. Being alive."

Ed sniffed quietly. "I just want to go home."

"I know." JJ reached out, placing her hand on Ed's shoulder to see how the touch was received. He didn't pull away or tense, so she slid her hand across his shoulders and wrapped her arm around him, pulling him into a side hug. "You're allowed to want to go home, too."

He didn't say anything.

"I have a cousin who is really into… God and faith and Heaven… which I'm not, and I know you're not. But she posted a song online one time, and I felt compelled to listen to it, and…" JJ wet her lips, trying to recall the exact lyrics, "…there was this line about…" She took a breath. "Maybe the reason for our hope is so that we can face the world, and the reason for the world is to make us long for home."

Several seconds passed in silence, and then Ed muttered quietly, voice thick with unshed tears, "It's supposed to make us long for home, huh?"

JJ smiled. "Yeah."

"It's working." He leaned against her, dropping his head.

JJ let out a heavy sigh and stroked the displaced strands of blonde hair. "Yeah."


October 7th, 2012

"Potassium?" Ed gripped his shoulder and rolled it slightly, trying to work out the tension in the muscles that throbbed around his port. "I always thought my potassium was good. I feel like I would have noticed palpitations or muscle weakness with all the fighting I do."

Morgan held up a finger. "It's not low, it's just on the lower end of a healthy range, meaning we could increase it a bit without putting you at risk. That could help with the fortification of your body."

Ed opened his mouth to ask another question, but Morgan continued in a very casual tone.

"I mean, we'll still have to be careful with dosage. We wouldn't want to get too much in you, which could easily happen with how small your body is."

"My body isn't small!" Ed screamed, the words coming out instinctually. "It's the perfect size for someone my age! I ain't a tiny little shrimp! I could beat you bloody without even trying!"

Morgan tilted his head back and laughed, quickly joined by the rest of the BAU team, though Reid and JJ tried to cover their mouths and be polite. Shaking his head, Morgan chuckled a few more times and then continued. "But seriously, having too much of a substance can be just as bad as having too little. We're going to need to move very carefully."

"Is it possible to come up with a story that would satisfy a medical professional or dietician?" Hotchner cupped his chin, dark eyes gazing thoughtfully at the floor. "My gut says no. We can't claim Edward is training for any kind of athletic reasons, because they'll ask for specifics about the sport or activity and workout routine, which he doesn't have. We can't say he's just trying to get healthier, because he's already physically fit."

"Could we say we're trying to find a way to relieve the chronic pain?" Emily opened her mouth to continue before visibly changing directions to say something else. "Never mind. We're trying to fortify Ed's body in general. If we say pain is the problem, they'll be looking for something to fix rather than looking for a way to increase endurance."

Reid hummed. "But reducing inflammation could also serve the purpose of strengthening his body, and he is in pain, even if it isn't constant. That must mean there's some kind of intermittent inflammation affecting his body, so it could be just as important to treat that, too."

Ed put his hands on his hips and looked down, everyone lapsing into a quiet moment of thought. JJ stepped away from the group just long enough to check on her son, Henry, and Hotchner's son, Jack, who were playing in the backyard. Ed watched her out of the corner of his eye, but he deliberately didn't approach. He loved kids—always had—but he knew he wouldn't be in their world for very long. He also knew kids liked to talk to their friends about anything and everything, and Ed didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention; not just to himself, but also to the BAU team and their involvement in keeping Ed out of the government's hands.

"We also might want to look at molybdenum because the next thing we need to talk about is performance steroids." Morgan moved his hands as he spoke, like he was giving a lecture. "I don't know for sure that we want to look at performance steroids, but it's the one I would recommend with my limited knowledge of them. We don't want cutting steroids because we aren't trying to remove fat, and we might consider bulking steroids to increase the amount of muscle Ed has, but I'm more interested in what we would be able to accomplish by improving strength and endurance."

Rossi leaned back against the kitchen counter, folding his arms over his dark red dress shirt. "My understanding is most steroids are abused at ten to one hundred times the prescription strength. If we're giving him a normal, prescription strength dose, could we consider giving him a little of both the performance and the bulking?"

Furrowing his brow, Ed looked around the group as they started to debate the logistics of using steroids to get the 'formula' of Ed's body right, points and counterpoints coming from every direction. He didn't really know anything about the chemicals they were mentioning, but they seemed to have some idea of what they were doing, so Ed starting thinking about the things he was actually familiar with.

Zinc helps with wound healing and your immune system. He moved toward the papers they had spread out on the counter, looking through the various results until he found what he was looking for. My levels are in a normal range, but it probably wouldn't hurt to increase it a little. Even if I do get through the Gate, Truth is going to take something from me, and having a body that's ready to recover from an injury and fight off infection is probably a good idea.

"What are you thinking?"

Ed jumped slightly when Garcia approached him, and he had honestly forgotten she was even there, but he gave her a smile. She typically didn't go along on cases, and her job required supporting more than just their team, so she sometimes worked strange hours that kept her busy when they were doing their little pow-wows. But still, she was a light and free-spirited person, and Ed didn't sense even the faintest shade of darkness anywhere inside her, so he didn't feel uncomfortable when she was around.

"I was just trying to come up with some things to try. Some long-term solutions." Ed wet his lips, glancing at the papers on the table and debating whether to elaborate before he went with his gut. "I was thinking some extra zinc could help my body recover from whatever Truth does to it when I get all the way through."

Garcia nodded, her pink lips smacking before she offered her reply. "You could also increase some vitamins. I think… A and C are the big ones for healing, but I could be wrong. B, too, maybe?" She glanced upward, thoughtful, and then waved it off. "We can look it up. If we want to use basic vitamin and mineral supplements, I can start researching it. There are absolutely no regulations keeping supplement companies from putting whatever they want in their products, but you can still find good companies with quality, whole food ingredients. I have a couple I use, so if you give me a list of what you're looking for, I can definitely hook you up with a supply."

"Awesome!" Ed gave her a bright smile and then looked back at the papers. "Um, my sodium looks really good… my magnesium is actually a little higher than I'd like…" He continued to leaf through the pages, catching bits and pieces of the conversation still going on around him.

"Even if it isn't legal, someone who deals anabolic steroids would know more about the risks and benefits than we would, right? Even if we have book knowledge on how they work and what they can do, someone who regularly markets them should have more practical knowledge," was Hotchner's suggestion.

"Yeah, it's just a matter of finding a dealer without risking Ed's secret, our careers, and jail time," Emily snorted.

Reid hummed. "It's 2012. We have the internet. Maybe we can do a little dark web searching, and with Garcia's help, we'd easily be able to cover up any trail and stay anonymous."

"Okay," Rossi started, "but even if we do that…"

Ed drew back into his own thoughts, glancing around and spying a pen toward the end of the counter. He reached for it, stretching out his right arm and feeling a jolt of pain in his neck, back, and shoulder. Relax, it's just residual. You got past the worst of the pain, and you have about two weeks before it comes back. Gripping the pen, he started to scribble notes in the margins of the papers.

Hmm… the enzymes in my blood… He tried to draw on his medical knowledge, much of which came from his time studying in the Sewing Life Alchemist's library, which brought a bitter taste. That could be a sign of tissue damage, couldn't it? Maybe we should do some more tests… that could tell us something about this intermittent pain… He made a few more marks and continued to read, moving from one page to the next. Ammonia and CO2 weren't an issue, of course… lipoprotein doesn't seem abnormal, and it doesn't really apply to anything…


October 18th, 2012

Hotch jerked slightly, pulled from sleep by the sound of door closing a bit harder than necessary. He looked around in the dark, remembering he was in a hotel room with Edward and Reid, and as he pushed himself into a sitting position, he realized someone was in the bathroom. Blinking a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes, he looked to the right and made out enough of the form still in the bed to realize it was too long to be Edward.

Grunting quietly, Hotch stood up and shuffled over to the bathroom door, rubbing his right eye. "Edward," he said as he approached, waiting for a moment before he gave two, quiet raps on the wood. "Is it getting worse?"

For a second, there was nothing, but then came the distinct sound of someone retching on the other side of the door. Hotch grabbed the knob and let himself in, squinting against the light and kneeling beside the toilet with a quiet, "Hey."

Edward braced his arm against the back of the toilet, letting out a guttural moan. "It hurts."

Hotch pressed his lips together, and he wished he had some expressions to read, but Edward's face was very much facing the bowl. "We haven't seen any sign the pain is doing damage to your body, but if it's bad enough, the hospital still might be able to help you. We're not in Quantico, so we probably won't have to visit more than once, meaning we can control what they know about you." He took a slight breath, fighting the urge to just grab Edward by the arm and drag him to the hospital without further argument. "Just because you don't have something they can fix, it doesn't mean they can't help. If you made a habit of it, or if you were clearly faking, they would suspect a drug problem, but… if you are genuinely in pain and reacting to it—and you are, by vomiting and sweating excessively—then they will most likely be willing to help you."

Edward didn't say anything, taking slow but shaky breaths, and after a couple rasps, he started heaving into the toilet again. Hotch hesitated to rub his back, not wanting to increase the pain, but he found a spot on Edward's left shoulder, as far from the automail port as he could be, and made gentle contact with a faint, rubbing motion.

"I'm fine," was what Edward finally spat out, eyes hiding in the crook of the arm he had braced against the back of the seat. "I mean, this is nothing. It's just pain."

Hotch felt a familiar weight in his chest. "That doesn't mean you can't get help, Edward. Your life doesn't have to be in danger for you to reach out. Pain is valid." He almost continued, but he felt he was slipping into a lecture. "You already tried the medication the hospital prescribed, and you're still in enough pain to throw up. Get your shoes on, and I'll take you to the ER. They can at least give you a shot to make the pain go away while they run their tests, and then maybe they can provide something a little more long-term."

"I'm fine, Hotchn—"

"It wasn't a suggestion, Edward." Hotch got his feet beneath him. "Do you want me to bring your shoes to you? Or can you come out and get them?"

Edward made some disjointed noises, like he was going to fight back, and then sighed in defeat. "Can you bring them here?"

"Of course." Hotch went back into the hotel room, which now seemed darker with the contrast of the light he had left behind, but he was able to find Edward's sneakers in the mess between the far bed and the window looking out onto the city. He carried them back to Edward and uttered a quiet, "Here," before returning to the room to get himself ready for the trip.

Minutes later, he was walking down the hall with Edward trailing after him, just a pace or two behind but significantly more disoriented. Hotch kept looking over his shoulder, but every time he tried to help the boy along, Edward would shake his head and push him away. Hotch wasn't sure if it was because the contact was painful or if Edward was just too prideful to accept the help, but he decided he would let it slide until it proved dangerous.

"Mmm…" Edward moaned, barely managing to get his seatbelt on before his head fell against the passenger side window, arms draped over his stomach. "How far…?"

"It's fifteen to twenty minutes away, but there's no telling how long we'll wait once we get there. ERs can be very unpredictable." Hotch pulled his seatbelt on and started the SUV, pulling out of the parking space. "Are you sensitive to sound? I can put on some music if you think it might distract you."

"I don't care," Edward whispered, eyes closed, barely coherent.

Hotch nodded, and after a few more seconds of driving in silence, he turned on the radio. He quickly turned it down when he heard how loud it was, and after switching between a couple stations, he found some softer, acoustic music he hoped would be comforting. He had no idea what song it was or who was performing it, but it didn't really matter to him, and it definitely didn't matter to Edward.

Moaning again, Edward shifted on the chair, drawing his flesh leg up and trying to curl into a ball. "Hurts…"

"I know. Just hang in there." Hotch kept his eyes on the road, navigating through town toward the hospital. He had already sent a text to the team letting them know the situation and informing them to continue working the case as though nothing were happening. If asked, they were supposed to say Hotch was in contact with Quantico, giving an update to their superiors, and making sure there weren't any other cases piling up, and whatever other official-sounding nonsense would convince the local police not to be suspicious.

Moaning and shaking, the young boy wound his arms tighter around himself.

"Just hang in there, Edward."


Author's Note: Time is passing, so not every little plot is going to be resolved. You're just seeing snapshots of Ed's life with the BAU team as they move toward their goal of getting him home. I hope you enjoyed the update, and I'm going to warn you now and say I don't know when the next chapter of this is coming out. I think the next update I post (09/11/2024) is going to be a new Xal oneshot for the Building Bridges series, but I don't know yet.
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