Because I Feel Like I Should Post Something
She hurried behind the nurse through the medical tents that had been put up around the battlefield. “You said he’s not military,” she pressed.
The red haired nurse turned to glance behind her. “He wasn’t wearing a uniform, and he’s an alchemist. There were no alchemists with the units that were deployed here.” She grasped the arm of a passing doctor. “Dr. Parson, this is Lieutenant Ross, she just got here from Central. She came with the medical caravans.”
The young man nodded distractedly, sifting through some boxes that had been unloaded in his particular tent. “The supplies are a big help, Lieutenant,” he said, his voice rushed. “We were losing a lot of men due to infection since we simply didn’t have enough antibiotics. Most of these soldiers really need to be transported to a hospital, but the General says we don’t have a safe passage yet.”
“Doctor,” Ross said firmly, commanding his attention. “I’ve come to see the alchemist responsible for the transmutation. I was told he was under your care.”
The doctor stood up, wiping his brow, and faced the woman. He gestured around the large medical tent. “Everyone here is under my care,” he said, and clearly by his expression he was stretched thin as it was. “The alchemist, the alchemist… the little guy with the automail,” he said, as if he was speaking to himself. His expression became serious. “Lieutenant…?”
“Ross,” she supplied again.
“Ross,” he repeated. “Your mystery alchemist saved the life of every man in here. That’s what the survivors are saying. But his condition is serious,” he told her frankly. He motioned for him to follow him along the narrow corridor between the rows of beds. “He was wounded several times, shot twice in the stomach and stabbed in the shoulder, and he’s running a fever. There’s been some damage to his automail that I can’t even begin to know how to look at that. Like I said, we didn’t have enough antibiotics,” he repeated. “Get some of those into these men and all of their chances will improve. Infection is a deadly thing.” He looked at her soberly. “Although I don’t know much about alchemy, I’m sure a transmutation with the magnitude he managed to pull off would drain the reserves of even a healthy person. And they’re saying he did it after he was wounded.” He pulled aside the thin sheet that made a makeshift curtain around the cot.
She gasped. His skin had a pale grey cast to it, and he seemed so small, under the sheets, and thin. A grimy bandage was wrapped around his forehead the side of his face, hiding one eye and speckled with blood that had seeped through. His hair was a dull brown color; whether from dirt or blood or some combination of both, she wasn’t sure. He gave a low moan, and she jumped.
The nurse who had been sitting at his bedside slipped a chip of ice between his lips, and he quieted for a moment. “Mr. Heiderich, there’s someone here to see you,” she said softly, and his eyes flickered open.
Mr. Heiderich? Maria Ross pondered that, then pushed it to the back of her mind for later thought. This was most definitely Edward, of that she was certain.
“The moon is on fire, Al,” he said, his voice hoarse. His eyes never stayed on one object for more than a few seconds. “I’m drunk, Al, and there are ghosts everywhere.”
She felt a chill that began at the base of her skull and traveled agonizingly downward. She knelt at the side of his bed, placing a hand on his flesh shoulder. “I’m not a ghost, sir,” she whispered.
His head rolled to the side, not acknowledging her. “Al, you’re the fly kid,” muttered, his eyes bright with delirium. “But not me, I’m a sky kid! Gonna fly all the way up, home, a little bit higher. Up, up, the moon is on fire! Balance yourself like a bird on a beam in my flying machine going up, all on, miss Josephine-”
“Edward,” Maria said gently. “Edward, listen to me, everything is going to be all right now, the medical supply trucks got through. You’re going to be just fine.”
“He can’t hear you,” said the doctor, “he hasn’t regained consciousness since he was brought in.” He studied the woman carefully and debated whether or not to speak the next sentence. Finally he said, “Lieutenant, whoever he is, he may not have much time. There’s only so much I can do out here, away from a hospital. If you know his identity-“ he saw her glance up, protest clear in her eyes, but he continued. “you may want to notify his next of kin.”
“He’s going to be fine,” she said, steeling her expression. “He’s going to be just fine.” She stood up. “The supplies we brought are only a temporary solution. General Hawkeye is securing a safe passage for the troops back into safe territory.” She pulled the curtain closed with a swift motion. Hopefully it will be in time, she prayed silently. Out loud, but in a hushed tone, she asked the nurse, “Why did you call him Mr. Heiderich?”
The young woman paused, pressing her lips together, and glanced back at the now obscured figure in the bed. “That’s they told us his name was, ma’am. Edward Heiderich. He’s from the village just north of here. All the soldiers said the same thing about him, that he just showed up in the middle of the battle and started fighting. They didn’t even know he was an alchemist the first day. And then, when they thought all hope was lost, he started ordering everyone to retreat back. They didn’t want to listen to him, but eventually they did, and he- well, they just said he transmuted. They didn’t say what he transmuted, or how, or anything like that. But the few left on the enemy side that weren’t killed retreated, and the battle was over.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He is the Fullmetal Alchemist, isn’t he?” she pressed.
Ross opened her mouth, then closed it again, not sure how to respond.
“That automail, that blond hair, and plus he’s so small, and looks so young… it has to be him. Isn’t it?”
The Lieutenant Colonel sighed worriedly. “I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to speculate as to our mystery friend’s identity. That is the official answer I was ordered to give from Central.” That was the answer I was to give if it really was Edward, she thought. If it was someone else, I suppose I could just say ‘no.’ “But I think his actions have proved that he is indeed a friend, and if he says his name is Heiderich, I think we should believe him, shouldn’t we?”
The red haired nurse turned to glance behind her. “He wasn’t wearing a uniform, and he’s an alchemist. There were no alchemists with the units that were deployed here.” She grasped the arm of a passing doctor. “Dr. Parson, this is Lieutenant Ross, she just got here from Central. She came with the medical caravans.”
The young man nodded distractedly, sifting through some boxes that had been unloaded in his particular tent. “The supplies are a big help, Lieutenant,” he said, his voice rushed. “We were losing a lot of men due to infection since we simply didn’t have enough antibiotics. Most of these soldiers really need to be transported to a hospital, but the General says we don’t have a safe passage yet.”
“Doctor,” Ross said firmly, commanding his attention. “I’ve come to see the alchemist responsible for the transmutation. I was told he was under your care.”
The doctor stood up, wiping his brow, and faced the woman. He gestured around the large medical tent. “Everyone here is under my care,” he said, and clearly by his expression he was stretched thin as it was. “The alchemist, the alchemist… the little guy with the automail,” he said, as if he was speaking to himself. His expression became serious. “Lieutenant…?”
“Ross,” she supplied again.
“Ross,” he repeated. “Your mystery alchemist saved the life of every man in here. That’s what the survivors are saying. But his condition is serious,” he told her frankly. He motioned for him to follow him along the narrow corridor between the rows of beds. “He was wounded several times, shot twice in the stomach and stabbed in the shoulder, and he’s running a fever. There’s been some damage to his automail that I can’t even begin to know how to look at that. Like I said, we didn’t have enough antibiotics,” he repeated. “Get some of those into these men and all of their chances will improve. Infection is a deadly thing.” He looked at her soberly. “Although I don’t know much about alchemy, I’m sure a transmutation with the magnitude he managed to pull off would drain the reserves of even a healthy person. And they’re saying he did it after he was wounded.” He pulled aside the thin sheet that made a makeshift curtain around the cot.
She gasped. His skin had a pale grey cast to it, and he seemed so small, under the sheets, and thin. A grimy bandage was wrapped around his forehead the side of his face, hiding one eye and speckled with blood that had seeped through. His hair was a dull brown color; whether from dirt or blood or some combination of both, she wasn’t sure. He gave a low moan, and she jumped.
The nurse who had been sitting at his bedside slipped a chip of ice between his lips, and he quieted for a moment. “Mr. Heiderich, there’s someone here to see you,” she said softly, and his eyes flickered open.
Mr. Heiderich? Maria Ross pondered that, then pushed it to the back of her mind for later thought. This was most definitely Edward, of that she was certain.
“The moon is on fire, Al,” he said, his voice hoarse. His eyes never stayed on one object for more than a few seconds. “I’m drunk, Al, and there are ghosts everywhere.”
She felt a chill that began at the base of her skull and traveled agonizingly downward. She knelt at the side of his bed, placing a hand on his flesh shoulder. “I’m not a ghost, sir,” she whispered.
His head rolled to the side, not acknowledging her. “Al, you’re the fly kid,” muttered, his eyes bright with delirium. “But not me, I’m a sky kid! Gonna fly all the way up, home, a little bit higher. Up, up, the moon is on fire! Balance yourself like a bird on a beam in my flying machine going up, all on, miss Josephine-”
“Edward,” Maria said gently. “Edward, listen to me, everything is going to be all right now, the medical supply trucks got through. You’re going to be just fine.”
“He can’t hear you,” said the doctor, “he hasn’t regained consciousness since he was brought in.” He studied the woman carefully and debated whether or not to speak the next sentence. Finally he said, “Lieutenant, whoever he is, he may not have much time. There’s only so much I can do out here, away from a hospital. If you know his identity-“ he saw her glance up, protest clear in her eyes, but he continued. “you may want to notify his next of kin.”
“He’s going to be fine,” she said, steeling her expression. “He’s going to be just fine.” She stood up. “The supplies we brought are only a temporary solution. General Hawkeye is securing a safe passage for the troops back into safe territory.” She pulled the curtain closed with a swift motion. Hopefully it will be in time, she prayed silently. Out loud, but in a hushed tone, she asked the nurse, “Why did you call him Mr. Heiderich?”
The young woman paused, pressing her lips together, and glanced back at the now obscured figure in the bed. “That’s they told us his name was, ma’am. Edward Heiderich. He’s from the village just north of here. All the soldiers said the same thing about him, that he just showed up in the middle of the battle and started fighting. They didn’t even know he was an alchemist the first day. And then, when they thought all hope was lost, he started ordering everyone to retreat back. They didn’t want to listen to him, but eventually they did, and he- well, they just said he transmuted. They didn’t say what he transmuted, or how, or anything like that. But the few left on the enemy side that weren’t killed retreated, and the battle was over.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He is the Fullmetal Alchemist, isn’t he?” she pressed.
Ross opened her mouth, then closed it again, not sure how to respond.
“That automail, that blond hair, and plus he’s so small, and looks so young… it has to be him. Isn’t it?”
The Lieutenant Colonel sighed worriedly. “I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to speculate as to our mystery friend’s identity. That is the official answer I was ordered to give from Central.” That was the answer I was to give if it really was Edward, she thought. If it was someone else, I suppose I could just say ‘no.’ “But I think his actions have proved that he is indeed a friend, and if he says his name is Heiderich, I think we should believe him, shouldn’t we?”