Welcome back! In this chapter, we see some progress in Ed's recovery, as well as some setbacks. There's some Alphonse, some Winry, some Pinako, and a whole wide range of emotions. Humor, anger, regret... we've got it all!
Oh yeah, and on an entirely unrelated note, happy Mar10 Day! Yahoo!
(Update 11/5/22: edited chapter with improvements)
(Update 2/21/23: fixed dashes and hyphens)
(Update 8/8/23: mass update!)
(Update 9/25/24: mass update!)
Ch 4: Better than Death
It takes two weeks, but there comes a point when Edward is consistently conscious again. He's still sleeping more than a healthy person, but his waking hours are predictable, and when he's awake, he's aware and cognizant. Pinako removes his feeding tube and catheter and switches out his IV for consumable medication alongside the remaining injections. He's still on bedrest until his leg sutures can be taken out (probably in a few days), but with his awareness returning, she trusts him enough to ask his brother for help getting to the bathroom. She hopes it'll boost his morale to not literally be tethered to the bed by various devices, even if his ability to actually go anywhere is still limited.
…However, the old woman quickly learns Ed's consciousness is both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, she's grateful he's speaking and thinking coherently, but on the other hand, all that speaking and thinking is not going where she wants it to go. Now that he's aware enough to really think about what happened, he's growing distraught.
Pinako enters the recovery room and over to the bed she's assigned to Ed, finding him awake and staring at the ceiling.
"Granny, is Al mad at me?" Ed asks quietly when he hears her enter.
"What makes you think Al is mad at you?" Pinako asks.
"He hasn't come in here on his own in a couple days. Only when I ask."
"He's not mad at you, Ed. He's not sure how to act right now."
"Why not?"
"I think he's just a little scared, Sprout."
"Of what?"
Pinako isn't sure how to answer this. Al told her directly that with Ed awake again, it's all become a little too real, and he doesn't want to think about what happened to them. But she doesn't want to tell Ed the thing Al is scared of is him. "I'm not sure," she finally replies.
But of course he's too smart for that answer. "It's me, isn't it?" Ed asks.
"Ed…"
"Is it because of what I did to him? Or what I did to myself?"
"Neither. He just needs a little time to accept things."
"I don't believe you." Ed fiddles with his blanket, unable to meet her eyes. "I know I'm scared of me."
"Don't say that."
"It's true. Look what I did to us because of alchemy. Al's gonna be a soul forever, and I'm gonna be a cripple. Imagine what I could do to others…"
Pinako isn't sure what to make of his words. "You think you're going to hurt others?"
"I hurt you and Winry 'cause of all this."
"No, you didn't, Ed. You might've scared us, but you didn't hurt us."
"I'm dangerous. At least as a cripple I can't hurt anyone anymore."
"Stop calling yourself that."
"Why? I can't take care of myself anymore, Granny."
"It's not going to be like that forever, Edward. Once you're healed enough, you'll learn to do things for yourself again."
Ed's gaze burns into hers. "Why're you even here?"
"Funnily enough, I came by to give you your first taste of real food."
For a moment, Ed looks interested, before his expression returns to a scowl. "I'm not hungry."
"I took out your feeding tube, Ed. You need to eat."
"I said I'm not hungry."
"No, you're just being stubborn. I made you some oatmeal; you've always liked oatmeal." Pinako holds the bowl out. Ed glances over, trying and failing to hide the longing in his eyes.
"I don't want any."
Pinako frowns; there's something deeper going on here. "Edward, what's really wrong? Why don't you want to eat?"
"I told you I'm not hungry."
"That's a lie if I've ever heard one. You haven't had a real meal in fifteen days. So what's going on?"
Ed purses his lips, narrowing his eyes and looking away.
"Answer me, Edward. Are you upset about something? Or are you too tiny to stomach a speck of dust?"
"I'm not small, you crotchety old woman! I could eat ten of those bowls!" Ed shouts.
"Then tell me the truth."
Ed scowls, making fiery eye contact with her. "Fine. I don't want it because of Al."
"What about Al?"
"He can't eat anymore…" Ed winces, his face pinched with guilt. "I don't want to either."
Pinako sighs. "You know you can't do that. You have a body that needs nourishment, Ed. Not just to keep you alive, but to keep you healing."
"But Al doesn't…"
"Think about it. Do you think Al would be happy if he heard what you just told me?"
Ed contemplates for a moment before shaking his head.
"Right. He'd be upset. Your brother wants you to stay healthy, Edward, even if he doesn't have a body anymore. So don't deprive yourself of basic human needs because of him."
Ed flinches at the term "basic human needs," but doesn't say anything when Pinako sets the bowl on his bed. He stares at it for a long time, deep in thought.
"What? Need me to feed it to you?" Pinako teases, earning herself a glare.
Ed picks up the spoon, taking a defiant bite. As he gets further into the food, though, he finds it harder to scoop oatmeal with the bowl wanting to move away. He's never once considered the necessity of holding your dish while you eat, but now it's glaringly obvious. After a few frustrated attempts to get a spoonful to his mouth, he wraps his right leg around the bowl, holding it steady in his knee. Pinako's lips quirk upward; she knew he'd figure out a way. He finishes the oatmeal, falling back against his pillow and smiling smugly.
"See? I did it just fine."
Pinako takes the bowl. "I'm impressed." His smug grin spreads. "I'm impressed that someone your size can eat a whole meal."
She leaves quickly, snickering as endless insults shout their way through the closed door.
...
Three days after Edward's consciousness returns, Pinako tells him it's time to take the stitches out of his leg.
Ed frowns. "Didn't you say it's only been two and a half weeks?"
"That's a rather average length of time."
"Will it hurt?"
"I'm going to numb the area first."
"Is it okay to do it in bed?"
"Stop stalling, Ed." Pinako takes his blanket away before he has a chance to realize it's gone. "Move over here."
Disgruntled, Ed obeys, sliding his good leg over the edge of the bed. Pinako gets a syringe.
"Do you have any medicine that doesn't use a needle?"
"Nothing that will work as fast."
"I don't like needles."
"It'll only take a second, boy. You can hold my hand if you need to."
Ed looks appalled at the suggestion he would need to hold Granny's hand, and she chuckles. While he's distracted, she sticks him.
"Hey! That's a dirty move!" he says.
"Worked, didn't it?" She laughs again, and he kicks her. She gives him a look before working to remove the dressing for the final time. Once it's off, she glances at Ed's face. His eyes are on his leg, expression rather emotionless. She cuts the sutures, pulling out all the thread; save for an irritated scar, his skin is entirely healed. Ed watches all of this, still unreadable. "You alright, Ed?"
He doesn't answer.
"Ed? You can talk to me." Pinako pats his knee. He blinks, letting out his breath in a sigh.
"Can you put the bandages back?" he asks quietly.
Pinako sighs; she's seen this with some of the younger people she works with. It's one thing for a new stump to be bandaged up and healing, and another for it to be uncovered. Of course, until now, the youngest person Pinako has ever brought into Rockbell Prosthetic Limb Outfitters was nineteen. Edward is eleven and an entirely new entity in her business.
"It's good to let the skin breathe. You'll finish healing much better this way," Pinako finally answers.
Ed frowns slightly. "I don't like it."
"Don't like what?"
"All of it. How my leg feels, looks...I don't like it, Granny."
"I'm sorry, Sprout." Pinako musses up his hair. "You'll have to get used to it, I'm afraid. But guess what? Now that your stitches are out, you can finally get off bedrest. Won't it be nice to come spend time with all of us?"
Ed doesn't answer. Pinako sighs again, patting his head one more time before leaving. Once she's gone, Ed folds his right leg up on the bed alongside his left, scowling. He really doesn't like this. He shifts what remains of his left leg; it's his, undeniably and frustratingly so, but nothing like what he's known for eleven years. He flops back onto his pillow, not wanting to look any longer.
Even so, no matter how much he wants to wallow in self pity, he can't. He did this to himself anyway. And besides, whatever he's dealing with is nothing compared to his little brother.
…
When Edward wakes the next afternoon, he sees that Granny has unpacked one of her wheelchairs and put it in his room. He blinks. He wants to go out and be with the rest of the family, yes...but he doesn't want it to be like this. Wheelchairs are for crippled people, and if there's one for him, then he really is helpless.
"Morning, Ed," Granny's voice says from the doorway. "Ready for lunch?"
Ed looks at her; does he even have a choice?
Pinako walks to the small dresser beside the bed. "I'm fine with you wearing those pajama shorts, but I want you to put a shirt on." She pulls out a gray tee shirt. "Hold your arm up." Ed scowls but does as told. Pinako slides his arm through the sleeve, then his head through the neck hole. She turns to the door. "Alright, Al, we're ready!"
In walks the suit of armor, stopping in the corner and sheepishly wringing its hands. "Hi, Brother."
Ed doesn't respond; after everything he heard about Al being afraid of him, he's not sure what to say to his little brother.
"I thought you might feel better if Al helped you with the wheelchair rather than me," Pinako says.
Ed's gaze snaps from Al to her. "Help? You never said anything about help!"
"You won't be able to get anywhere with one hand, Ed," Pinako says gently.
Ed bites his lip. "I don't know if I want to do this, Granny."
"I promise you'll feel better when you're out of this room."
That would be nice...Ed looks back at Al, whose emotionless face offers no comfort. He swallows his pride, turns to Pinako and nods. "Okay. What do I do?"
"Go ahead and stand, but be careful. Your leg will be weak from disuse and with that arm missing, your balance is going to be more off than you think. Grab onto Alphonse before you try anything."
Al holds out a hand, and Ed takes it. He doesn't stop to think about how tiny his hand feels in Al's, or how cold the armor is. He just slides his foot to the floor, and after a shaky moment, stands up.
Almost immediately he loses his balance. Al sees this and grips down on Ed's hand. However, with his lack of feeling, he does it way too hard, and Ed yelps.
"Alphonse—ow—you're crushing my hand!" Ed tries to pull away, and in fear, Al fully releases him. Ed loses his balance entirely and falls to the left. He tries catching himself, but still ends up smacking his head on the floor. A pained groan escapes him. "Ugh, dammit...that hurt."
"You alright, Ed?" Pinako asks.
"Do I look like I'm alright?" Ed asks angrily, pushing himself to a sitting position. "I can't even freaking stand without falling! This is so stupid!"
Al steps back. "I'm sorry, Brother, I—I tried to keep you from falling, but I didn't know how hard I grabbed you—"
"Shut up, Al, it's not your fault," Ed says, tone exhausted. "Just help me up." Ed reaches for him.
Al whimpers. "But I don't wanna hurt you again…"
Ed's gaze softens. "You won't," he says confidently. Al takes Ed's hand, applying as little pressure as he thinks is necessary to keep Ed in his grasp. He watches Ed's face for any signs of pain, then helps him stand. Pinako smiles too subtly for them to notice; those boys are really something else.
"Alright, Ed, the chair is beside you. Turn so it's behind you," Pinako says.
"I know how chairs work, you micro hag," Ed replies. He hops forward a little, turning to face away before plopping down in the chair. He puts his head in his hand, resting his elbow on the armrest before huffing out. "Let's just get some stupid lunch."
Al pushes Ed to the dining room, while he tries to ignore the wave of humiliation he feels relying on his little brother for mobility.
"Ed!" Winry drops the apple she's chopping and rushes over. "I'm so glad you're feeling better! Grandma said you're having lunch with us!" the girl grins widely. And for some reason, Ed doesn't like it.
He's never felt awkward around Winry before; the three of them practically grew up together, after all. But there's just something about how she's acting like nothing's changed that makes him angry. Here he is, missing half his limbs and entirely at the mercy of other people, and she seems to think nothing's wrong. So, he just doesn't respond. Winry frowns, going back to cutting her apple.
Pinako comes in a minute later with the food.
...And Edward stares at the plate in front of him. "What the hell is this?" he asks, annoyed. He has a turkey sandwich, just like everyone else, but it's been cut into half a dozen small pieces.
"It's lunch, Edward," Pinako replies dryly.
"Why is it in a million pieces?"
"Because you'd lose everything inside it if I gave you a whole one."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You don't have the leverage for a whole sandwich, Ed." Pinako picks up her sandwich with one hand, letting it flop over and spill lettuce and tomatoes onto the plate. "It's easier to eat in smaller pieces until you're practiced with one hand."
Ed glowers at her. It makes sense, but he hates it.
"Just eat it, Brother," Al's voice pipes up.
Ed's scowl softens, and he resigns himself to his fate. Besides, Al can't eat at all. With that thought in mind, Ed finishes his meal without any further complaint.
…
Edward quickly learns that as much as he hates being alone, he hates being with the others even more. At first, he was excited by the idea of spending time with Al and Winry, but now that he can, he's finding out just how much he can no longer do.
For as long as he can remember, the three of them have played outside. They built forts and went swimming in the river. He and Al would get Winry to play Survive the Wild with them, and in exchange, they would play House with her. Sometimes during summer, Granny would let them bring blankets outside and sleep on the field between their houses. They would play tag until they couldn't run anymore, and when autumn came, they'd collect leaves from the sparse trees and gather them into a pile to jump in.
Ed would give anything to go back to those days now.
At first, Al and Winry tried to play more rigorous games with Ed, but that was put to an end the day they were having a contest to see who could push his chair faster and he took a hard fall directly onto his right shoulder, tearing the half-healed wound open again. Granny told them no more games like that, at least not until his stitches are ready to come out (which will be delayed again now, thanks to this escapade).
After that, they played with Winry's dolls, but the boys just didn't understand the intricacies of caring for babies, and Winry grew too frustrated at them to continue. Now, whenever Ed is around, they seem to just play card and board games. Yeah, he really misses the way it was.
Today, Edward is sitting at the front window, watching the birds outside, and definitely not sulking.
"Hey, Ed, we're gonna play Go Fish," Winry says. "Wanna join?"
"I'm good," he replies.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I know you guys don't really want to play it, anyway. Go do whatever."
Winry frowns. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you can go play outside. I know you don't just wanna play card games all day. Leave me alone. I'm just a burden, anyway."
Winry doesn't respond, and Ed is just beginning to think that she left when a fist smashes the top of his head.
"Ow! What was that for?!" His head snaps back, seeing Winry standing there with her hands balled into fists, absolutely furious. Ed blanches.
"Edward Elric!" she yells. "Don't you ever say that again, you hear me? You are not a burden, and we are not going to just play outside without you!"
Ed remains silent—and slightly terrified.
"Did it ever occur to you that we've been playing card games because we want to spend time with you? No, because you're too busy feeling sorry for yourself to enjoy playing with us!"
He blinks.
"Al misses you! I miss you! And if playing board games is how we get to spend time with you, then we're going to play board games! So stop being stupid and come join Go Fish, you idiot!" She hits his head again, leaving him entirely speechless.
After a moment, he just nods a little. Still radiating anger, Winry pushes him to the dining table. She passes out the cards, and he picks them up, a little bit humbler.
And guess what? It ends up being fun.
"Ed...do you have any...fives?" Al asks. Ed scowls, picking out his five card with his teeth and spitting it at his brother.
"Do you have any eights?" he asks in return.
"Go fish," Al replies.
Ed slaps his cards on the table, reaching to add another to the pile before gathering them back in his hand.
"Do you have any threes?" Winry asks him.
Ed's scowl deepens, and he spits two threes at her.
"Winry, do you have any tens?" he asks.
"Go fish."
Ed collects another card, growing more frustrated.
"Have any fours, Brother?" Al asks.
Ed shrieks. "Are my cards see-through or something?!" The other two laugh, and Ed sends another card Al's way. "Do you have any nines?"
"Go fish."
"What is this nightmare?!"
"Jeez, Ed, it's just a game," Winry teases.
"I always win at cards, Winry! Real cards, with strategy and planning! Not this luck based crap!"
"Guess you're just unlucky, Brother," Al says, laughing.
Ed glares at him, holding his stash a little closer.
"Got any sixes?" Winry asks.
Ed throws his cards on the floor, screaming profanity, while the others continue laughing.
They end up playing all the way until dinner, and for the first time in a week, Edward feels a little more alive.
…
There's a question that, for the entirety of the day, has been burning in Ed's mind.
It started when he woke from yet another nightmare, reliving the awful moment where he saw what he made in the basement that night. He's gotten good at suppressing the screams that used to accompany his waking, so Al doesn't know just how often he still has nightmares. He doesn't want to make his little brother feel any guiltier than he already does, so if he has to shoulder some nightmares alone, he will.
But as he laid there in quiet terror, he began to wonder what kind of dreams Alphonse would be having if he could sleep. Did Al see that monstrous corpse too? ...Of course he did; it was still there when he woke up in the armor. How is he dealing with it? He doesn't have an unconscious mind to torment him with its image in his sleep, but that doesn't mean he couldn't see it in his waking mind. Does he think about it a lot?
Ed really, really wants to ask.
It's not until after dinner when the Elrics are reading on the porch that the subject finally comes up. Edward has been staring at his book for about half an hour now, lost in thought, and unaware of Al's quiet observation.
"Brother? Are you feeling alright?" Al's quiet voice finally asks, breaking Ed from his fake-reading.
"Why?" Ed replies, not denying any implications, but not confirming them either.
"You've been really quiet today."
"I'm not sick, if that's what you're asking."
Al nods slightly; they both know he wasn't asking about Ed's physical condition, but he's not quite ready to prod further.
A minute later, Al continues, "...So what is bothering you, then?"
"Just the usual," Ed mumbles.
"There's about ten different things that could be 'the usual', Ed."
...That's a fair point.
Ed sighs, fiddling with his shirt. "Al...when we...that night...did you—did you see…?" He can't bring himself to say "Mom", but the implications seem to click in Al's mind.
"Oh…" the younger boy says, looking down. "Yeah...I did...That's what you were thinking about, isn't it?"
Ed nods. "I had another dream about it."
"Why didn't you tell me this morning? It's not like you were going to wake me or anything…"
"I just don't want to worry you."
"I'd rather know what's wrong right away than spend the day wondering."
"Sorry."
"It's fine. Just tell me everything now."
"Well…" Ed starts, shifting uncomfortably. "The dream itself was nothing special; I've seen it a hundred times. But then I started thinking about you, and how you must've seen it too, and I started worrying."
Al pauses. "Do you want the truth?" Ed nods. "I didn't see it at first. I was too confused, waking up in a new body, and the first thing I saw was you—and I got so scared. I knew I had to get help, and it was when I grabbed you and turned around that I saw…" Al wrings his hands together, the leather gloves crunching beneath each other. "At first I didn't even realize what it was. But then...when I realized it was Mom...I—I couldn't move."
Edward closes his eyes, a whole new weight of guilt settling in his chest.
But Al isn't finished. "I think I stood there for a minute at least, just staring. And I felt so awful, Ed. I felt like I killed her. But then, you started making this...gurgling sound again and I remembered I was holding you, and you were bleeding so much and I just started running." Alphonse falls silent, the memory of Ed's blood-soaked clothing and the primal terror consuming Al's ethereal being leaving him shaking once again.
"I'm sorry, Al. That you had to see all that…" Ed says softly. It's all he can offer, because no apology could ever truly express the regret Edward has for putting his little brother through this.
So, Ed remains quiet for the rest of the night, as does Al, minds both occupied by memories far too brutal for boys so young.
so the friend who's beta-ing this for me asked if Ed was actually just unlucky with the cards or if Al could see them, and while my original idea was that Ed is just unlucky, I thought it would be hilarious if Al was so tall that he could see over Ed's hand to his cards. And then he would signal to Winry what number to do next, just to play a joke on his brother XD
Hope you enjoyed the funny moments in this one... They're not going to be around much longer *evil laughter*