FMA Fic: "Devotion" Chapter 15/?
Devotion
evil_little_dog
Summary: The cold stone seemed to freeze all the feeling in her fingertips but she couldn't stop herself from tracing the letters.
Disclaimer: I am not Hiromu Arakawa. I just play her on TV.
Rating: Adult; i.e., it'd get at least a hard "R" rating based on the old system.
Pairings: Past Al/Winry, Ed/OC, ultimately Ed/Winry
A.N.: Mangaverse, futurefic. Everything up to at least chapter 76 (and possibly beyond) is fair game. Spoiler warning. Much thanks to lyrangalia for loving this story and for cornerofmadness' edits, comments and attaboys.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
* * *
The doctor had okayed Edward leaving the hospital three days after Mr. and Mrs. Curtis arrived. Winry wasn’t sure if she was relieved at this or not. There had been a consultation - many consultations, in fact; the first involving Ed telling the physician that he didn’t have a problem. The second had been between the doctor and Mr. Mustang, though Winry had sat in on that one, too. Mr. Mustang insisted she attend that particular meeting, explaining that, as Edward’s mechanic and also the one closest to the situation, her opinion and concerns were valuable. The doctor had agreed to allow her to attend the meeting, though Winry thought he took a dim view of her being there and directed all his comments and questions to Mr. Mustang, even when she spoke directly to the doctor. Her frustration nearly led her to leave the room but her concern for Ed convinced her to stay. The final meeting had been between the Curtises, Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Mustang and herself, deciding exactly what would happen with Edward.
In between the meetings, the amount of morphine in Edward’s saline drip was reduced. His reaction was immediate and intense - letting Winry know just how addicted he’d become. Sitting up all night while Edward vomited himself practically inside out; stripping the bedding and him when he lost control of his bowels; dealing with his nausea and fevers and the nightmares that suddenly struck wore Winry out faster than she expected.
She wasn’t the only one subjected to Ed’s withdrawal symptoms. Izumi - she suggested Winry drop the ‘Mrs. Curtis’ while they were bathing Edward after a particularly grueling bout of diarrhea - Ed had been too exhausted to even protest their view of his naked form - took her turns, as did Gracia and Mr. Curtis. But Winry couldn’t forget Edward’s eyes following her every time she tried to leave to get some rest, to take a few minutes away from him to gather herself up. As long as he needed her, she hated walking away.
“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Gracia scolded gently as she guided Winry down the hospital hallway, taking her to the cantina to make her eat. “You have to maintain your own strength so you can be strong for him.”
Winry knew Gracia was right. Even so, she was haunted by that expression Edward wore when she walked away from him, as if he was afraid she’d leave and not come back. She didn’t know how to tell him she wouldn’t do that. Both of them had too much experience in people going away.
She would be traveling with Ed and the Curtises from Central City until they reached Rush Valley. Winry would return to work then, finish up the commissions she had, make Ed’s new leg and travel farther south to Dublith. She hoped her stop off wouldn’t take more than a week. It wasn’t something she’d talked to Ed about. He was too sick to follow much of a conversation right now beyond, ‘Try to drink something.’ “I don’t know how to tell him,” she muttered, staring at the food behind the counter without really seeing it.
Gracia squeezed her shoulder, her hand warm through Winry’s clothing. “I know it’s hard.”
Winry nodded, a little dazed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten - probably a good reason to get something but none of the food set out looked very good. “I can’t order anything.” The words came out in a pained grumble.
“I’ll get you something to eat. Why don’t you decide what you want to drink?” Gracia indicated the young woman at the far end of the line, handing a cup across the counter, her smile almost radiant. Winry had to blink twice at her before she really came into focus and made her way toward that part of the cantina.
The sounds around her were so much background noise, a blurred buzzing that did little to attract her attention. Winry found herself in front of the girl, her short dark hair glossy beneath her little hat, grinning at her in welcome. Winry couldn’t help but smile back. “Do you want something to drink?” the girl asked.
“Yes, I guess,” Winry rubbed at one of her eyes, thinking they felt gritty, “just hot tea. And a glass of water.” Eyes closing as she waited for the drinks, Winry realized how easy it would be to fall asleep standing up. Like a horse. Of course, four legs were probably steadier than two and if she didn’t open her eyes now, she’d probably fall down and wind up in the bed next to Ed’s. The thought that he might like it pulled her eyes open in time to see the young woman passing the cup of tea and glass of water across the counter.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” she asked as Winry fumbled for the sens to pay the bill.
Nodding, Winry handed over the money, waving off the change. She made her way to one of the tables, sitting at it to wait for Gracia. The sound of a chair scraping across the floor made her jerk her eyes open and Winry blinked a few times, realizing she’d fallen asleep.
“See? You’re wearing yourself down to a nub.” Gracia adjusted her seat, setting a bowl of soup in front of Winry, as well as a sandwich half. “And I know you haven’t eaten since yesterday. I understand that Ed needs you but you need to take care of yourself. If you don’t, you won’t be any good to him.”
Winry stirred the soup before sipping a spoonful. The taste of salt and chicken broth seemed to dance over her tongue and Winry had to restrain herself from picking up the bowl and drinking from it. Her stomach let out a growl she was sure the entire cafeteria could hear as she supped. Gracia hid her smile behind a fold of her napkin. “Your body knows what it needs, Winry. Eat. And if that isn’t enough, I’ll get you more.” The motherly expression Gracia wore made Winry duck her head. “And you should at least take a nap.”
“I’ll rest on the train.” Winry mumbled around her bite of sandwich. Surely Ed would be better by then and she’d be able to sleep. Catching some of the chicken salad as it spilled out of the bread, Winry licked her finger clean. She tried to ignore Gracia’s studious look. “I can’t leave him, Gracia.”
“I understand how much he needs you, Winry, but you just said you’ll have to spend time in Rush Valley.” Gracia reached across the table, laying her hand on Winry’s. “I know he’s sick and I know you want to take care of him. You can’t do it all.”
The nearly empty bowl of soup and crumbs of sandwich showed Winry just how right Gracia was but, “He’s already landed in the hospital because of all this.” Her fingers twirled in the air, meaning Alphonse’s death; everything that had happened since then. “I have to help him pick himself back up so he can keep moving forward.” Never mind that he hadn’t moved in any direction but down in a long time. This was Edward. He could pull himself out of this rut. He’d done it before; he just needed to be reminded he could do it again. The idea that Edward might not be able to didn’t bear thinking about. “Besides, I’m used to all-nighters. I’ll rest,” Winry hesitated, looking at her empty plate. She’d be busy in Rush Valley, working on automail for her customers. It wasn’t fair to ask Mr. Garfiel to do that, though she was sure he would.
“When?” Gracia’s gentle question brought Winry back to the present. “On the train?” She sighed. “Winry, you have to take care of you. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis will take care of Ed while you come back to my house and take a nap.” When she opened her mouth to protest, Gracia raised a finger. “It’s already been arranged. When you wake up, you can come back to the hospital.” At Winry’s glance toward the doorway, Gracia went on. “Mr. and Mrs. Curtis have it under control. Ed, I mean. You’re my ward.” Though the words sounded funny, Gracia’s expression brooked no argument and Winry found herself stumbling to her feet to follow the older woman to her car.
Later, Winry couldn’t remember the drive to Gracia’s home, and barely recalled getting inside the house. All she did remember was the sweet fragrance of roses on her pillow before she slipped into a dreamless sleep.
* * *
Everything hurt. Edward felt like his skin was stretched too tight over his body. Joints he didn’t know existed had needles sewing through them, even through his automail limbs, worse even than before a thunderstorm. His tongue rasped over his dry lips, flannel over sandpaper, and his eyes were so dry, they itched behind his eyelids. “Nnuuuunng.” Sand lined his throat while bile ate at his stomach and Edward hoped he wouldn’t have to throw up again. He thought he’d been doing that too much lately but he couldn’t quite tell. Memories were twisted and strange right now, like he saw them through a fog.
“Ed? You’re awake?” His master looked down at him, smiling brightly. “I’m glad to see that. Are you thirsty?”
Smacking his mouth, Edward winced at the sensation in his jaw. He almost wished it was automail so he could have Winry grease it. “Winry?” Twisting his body, he searched for her despite the agony moving put him in to.
“She’s resting, Edward.” Mr. Curtis’ form blocked Edward’s view of the doorway.
“Where?” He didn’t see her in the other bed. “Winry?” He raised his voice.
“She isn’t here, Ed.” Izumi shook her head slowly, as if she knew Edward couldn’t follow any fast movements. “She’s resting. She’ll be back soon.”
It hurt his head to frown, all the way down into his brain. “Why?”
“Because she needed to rest.” Izumi frowned back. “Now, do you want something to drink, or not?”
The dry swallow made his throat ache but Edward waved off the question, trying to sit up. Every movement seemed to concentrate first in his joints and twist his skin into knots. He didn’t care, forcing his body to continue moving. “Winry.”
Izumi’s strong hands pushed him back onto the bed. “You’re not getting up, Ed. Winry’s not even in the hospital and you’re in no shape to try to find her.” He struggled against her grip, realizing she was strong enough to keep him pinned. Lips curling back from his teeth, Edward snarled at Izumi. She ignored the threat. “Do you want her so sick she can’t help you? Stay where you are. Don’t do something so stupid as make her worry any more than she already does.”
Panting, he glared at his master. The words wouldn’t come to explain why he had to get up and find Winry. Maybe he shouldn’t even tell Izumi. Maybe she wasn’t Izumi Curtis. Sure, he’d seen Envy commit suicide…hadn’t he? But what if it was a trick? What if Envy was here, now, keeping him pinned to this bed? Bradley had made Winry a hostage and that bastard, Kimbley, was willing to use her to keep Edward under control. Whatever Bradley did, Envy was aware of and that meant Winry could be in danger. “Le’ me go.” He tried to force himself up but Izumi kept him flat on the mattress, didn’t even seem to have a problem with holding him down.
“Do you remember your leg was crushed and removed?” She jerked her chin to the space where his left leg should have been. “And that you were in surgery? You’re not leaving the hospital, Ed.”
“Listen to her, Edward.” Someone moved into view over Izumi’s shoulder. Edward blinked the sweat out of his eyes, trying to focus his vision. Was that Sloth? How did the homunculi get into this place?
“Winry?” Her name escaped him and Edward swore at himself for letting that happen. They’d use her, hurt her, and he couldn’t protect her with Envy holding him down. “Let go of me, you bastard!” He punched at that sneering face.
“Whoa!” Envy laughed, dodging. “Didn’t I tell you before, pipsqueak? I don’t like to fight.”
“Don’t. Call.” Edward shook off the hands. “Me. Pipsqueak!” At the last word, his right leg swung up, knocking into that despised form, sending it sprawling. Envy chuckled, rising to its feet, jaw elongating. Sloth moved in and Edward flung himself off the bed, landing in a heap on the floor. “Shit!” No leg. Where was his leg? What had they done with it?
“Edward!” Envy shouted at him, sounding weirdly concerned.
“No!” He grabbed hold of the bed, using it to haul himself upright. Sloth was prowling around, just out of range. Edward swallowed hard, wishing he didn’t feel so hot and tired. Winry needed him. Something caught his eye and Edward realized he might be able to escape this place, if he could just get to the window.
“Ed, what do you think you’re doing?” Envy glared, a really evil look, but Edward scrambled back, managing to hold onto the bed to keep from falling again.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Sloth said, the most coherent thing Edward could remember coming out of the homunculus’ mouth.
“No need. To worry.” Edward had to take a breath. “‘Bout me.” Where was Al? Why wasn’t Al here helping him? Or that stupid prince? One of them was always around - did he tell them to protect Winry? They wouldn’t just leave him alone with the homunculi, would they? He tried to wipe the sweat from his eyes, smacking himself in the nose hard enough he saw stars. “The hell?” The thing on his arm made no sense. Edward wondered if it was something to keep him from using his alchemy.
“Ed, you’ve been sick,” Envy was saying. “You need to lie back down before you fall down.”
“You’d. Like.” The last word seemed stuck in his throat. Edward couldn’t get it out. Sick? Why? He’d never been sick before. Not since he was a little kid. He couldn’t afford to get sick, not when Al needed him. Where was Al, anyway? Maybe he needed to go looking for his little brother before he tried to find Winry. “What’ve. Done.” He hated that he had to catch his breath again. “Al?” He could just make out Sloth and Envy exchanging glances. Slinging his sweat-damp hair out of his eyes, Edward readied himself for their attack as best he could without letting go of the metal headrail.
“You’re hallucinating, Ed.” Envy’s voice took on a placating note as it started for him.
Sloth moved to block him from the window. “You should be in bed.”
“Nnnng-no!” He shook his head, realizing that made the room swim. Edward had to close his eyes for a few seconds, taking deep gasps of air, trying to keep from falling. His knee buckled and even the grip his metal hand had on the rail didn’t keep him from crashing to the floor. It seemed to take a long time, long enough for Edward to remember that time in Gluttony’s belly with Ling and Envy. Long enough for Edward to remember the heat of the blood spilling out of Alphonse’s stomach.
His guts turned to acid and Edward heaved, feeling everything within him try to turn inside out. Bile spilled out of his mouth, burning his throat, making his nose run. Hands grasped his shoulders and Edward turned, vomiting on Sloth, as if that might scare off the Homunculus.
“We told you you were sick.” Envy stroked his forehead with something cool and damp. Edward wondered what sort of sick reason the homunculus might have for being nice. It had to be a trick, something to make Edward let down his guard. He snapped at Envy’s hand, teeth clicking hard against each other as Envy jerked back. “Ed!”
“Lemme the fuck go!” He thrashed, trying to break free. Tightening his grip around Edward’s torso, Sloth held Edward tight against his chest.
“Get a doctor,” he grunted as Edward’s automail elbow dug unerringly in Sloth’s kidneys and Edward saw Envy back up, running for the door.
The realization struck that Sloth was stronger than he was, though Edward had his doubts the homunculus was smarter. Rather than fight, he let his body go limp, sagging against Sloth’s grip. He coughed, no difficulty in that, his ribs aching from this encounter, then slumped in the homunculus’ arms.
“Ed?”
Sloth’s concern was disconcerting but Edward ignored it, even as a ham-sized hand stroked his sweat-slicked hair away from his face. It was hard to stay still with those fingers so close to his mouth but Edward let his head bobble from the touch rather than whip around and bite. Keeping his eyes half-closed was the most difficult thing; his lids wanted to flicker and move but he guessed he was doing a good job when Sloth lifted him up and laid him back on the bed. Inwardly, Edward seethed - he’d been trying to get out of the bed and now he was back in it - but at least he’d duped Sloth into letting him go. The homunculus lumbered toward the door, voice raised in alarm.
Taking a deep breath, Edward forced his hands together, activating a transmutation circle. The familiar scent of ozone tickled his nose, the bluish light swirled around him. When the light died down, the transmutation revealed a pegleg with straps. It wasn’t as good as Winry’s automail but if it got him around until he found her and Alphonse, it would do. Strapping the pegleg into place, Edward carefully slid off the bed, testing his self-made prosthesis. His thigh fell into the cup, the metal of his automail port ringing softly against the rim of the prosthesis. Grimacing, Edward wondered if he dare take the time to tighten the cup, deciding that could wait until he’d escaped the homunculi.
Edward took a few hobbling steps. The pegleg didn’t work even as easily as the loaner legs the Rockbells produced. Surprised the sound of the leg clacking on the floor didn’t alert Sloth, Edward limped toward the wall. He could transmute his own exit. As he pressed his hands together, he realized he had no idea where to even start his search for Alphonse and Winry. His stomach twisted again, the sensation nearly spilling him to the floor. Edward grabbed for the wall, windmilling his arms, managing to grab hold of something that rattled and clattered. Vision swimming, he tried to focus on what he’d run into. Whatever lay on the top of it looked like instruments of torture.
“Ed!”
The shout startled him, sending him in a half-circle toward the door. It felt like his head kept spinning without him. Edward found himself on the floor, the world circling around him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Master Izumi knelt beside him, grabbing his shoulders and holding him down. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Someone else was on his other side. Edward felt something sting his arm, making him let out a pained, “Ow.” He couldn’t seem to turn his head to see what bit him.
“It’s all right, Lieutenant Colonel.” The voice soothed but Edward couldn’t tell who was talking to him. “Everything is going to be fine.”
No, it isn’t, Edward tried to protest but his tongue felt thick and strange in his mouth and wasn’t cooperating. Wanting to stand, to get away, he attempted to thrust himself up, only to collapse back to the floor, the weight of Izumi’s hands still on him. So stupid, was the last thought in his mind before the black arms from Truth’s doorway dragged him through the opening, the door slamming behind him.
* * *
next part
evil_little_dog
Summary: The cold stone seemed to freeze all the feeling in her fingertips but she couldn't stop herself from tracing the letters.
Disclaimer: I am not Hiromu Arakawa. I just play her on TV.
Rating: Adult; i.e., it'd get at least a hard "R" rating based on the old system.
Pairings: Past Al/Winry, Ed/OC, ultimately Ed/Winry
A.N.: Mangaverse, futurefic. Everything up to at least chapter 76 (and possibly beyond) is fair game. Spoiler warning. Much thanks to lyrangalia for loving this story and for cornerofmadness' edits, comments and attaboys.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
* * *
The doctor had okayed Edward leaving the hospital three days after Mr. and Mrs. Curtis arrived. Winry wasn’t sure if she was relieved at this or not. There had been a consultation - many consultations, in fact; the first involving Ed telling the physician that he didn’t have a problem. The second had been between the doctor and Mr. Mustang, though Winry had sat in on that one, too. Mr. Mustang insisted she attend that particular meeting, explaining that, as Edward’s mechanic and also the one closest to the situation, her opinion and concerns were valuable. The doctor had agreed to allow her to attend the meeting, though Winry thought he took a dim view of her being there and directed all his comments and questions to Mr. Mustang, even when she spoke directly to the doctor. Her frustration nearly led her to leave the room but her concern for Ed convinced her to stay. The final meeting had been between the Curtises, Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Mustang and herself, deciding exactly what would happen with Edward.
In between the meetings, the amount of morphine in Edward’s saline drip was reduced. His reaction was immediate and intense - letting Winry know just how addicted he’d become. Sitting up all night while Edward vomited himself practically inside out; stripping the bedding and him when he lost control of his bowels; dealing with his nausea and fevers and the nightmares that suddenly struck wore Winry out faster than she expected.
She wasn’t the only one subjected to Ed’s withdrawal symptoms. Izumi - she suggested Winry drop the ‘Mrs. Curtis’ while they were bathing Edward after a particularly grueling bout of diarrhea - Ed had been too exhausted to even protest their view of his naked form - took her turns, as did Gracia and Mr. Curtis. But Winry couldn’t forget Edward’s eyes following her every time she tried to leave to get some rest, to take a few minutes away from him to gather herself up. As long as he needed her, she hated walking away.
“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Gracia scolded gently as she guided Winry down the hospital hallway, taking her to the cantina to make her eat. “You have to maintain your own strength so you can be strong for him.”
Winry knew Gracia was right. Even so, she was haunted by that expression Edward wore when she walked away from him, as if he was afraid she’d leave and not come back. She didn’t know how to tell him she wouldn’t do that. Both of them had too much experience in people going away.
She would be traveling with Ed and the Curtises from Central City until they reached Rush Valley. Winry would return to work then, finish up the commissions she had, make Ed’s new leg and travel farther south to Dublith. She hoped her stop off wouldn’t take more than a week. It wasn’t something she’d talked to Ed about. He was too sick to follow much of a conversation right now beyond, ‘Try to drink something.’ “I don’t know how to tell him,” she muttered, staring at the food behind the counter without really seeing it.
Gracia squeezed her shoulder, her hand warm through Winry’s clothing. “I know it’s hard.”
Winry nodded, a little dazed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten - probably a good reason to get something but none of the food set out looked very good. “I can’t order anything.” The words came out in a pained grumble.
“I’ll get you something to eat. Why don’t you decide what you want to drink?” Gracia indicated the young woman at the far end of the line, handing a cup across the counter, her smile almost radiant. Winry had to blink twice at her before she really came into focus and made her way toward that part of the cantina.
The sounds around her were so much background noise, a blurred buzzing that did little to attract her attention. Winry found herself in front of the girl, her short dark hair glossy beneath her little hat, grinning at her in welcome. Winry couldn’t help but smile back. “Do you want something to drink?” the girl asked.
“Yes, I guess,” Winry rubbed at one of her eyes, thinking they felt gritty, “just hot tea. And a glass of water.” Eyes closing as she waited for the drinks, Winry realized how easy it would be to fall asleep standing up. Like a horse. Of course, four legs were probably steadier than two and if she didn’t open her eyes now, she’d probably fall down and wind up in the bed next to Ed’s. The thought that he might like it pulled her eyes open in time to see the young woman passing the cup of tea and glass of water across the counter.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” she asked as Winry fumbled for the sens to pay the bill.
Nodding, Winry handed over the money, waving off the change. She made her way to one of the tables, sitting at it to wait for Gracia. The sound of a chair scraping across the floor made her jerk her eyes open and Winry blinked a few times, realizing she’d fallen asleep.
“See? You’re wearing yourself down to a nub.” Gracia adjusted her seat, setting a bowl of soup in front of Winry, as well as a sandwich half. “And I know you haven’t eaten since yesterday. I understand that Ed needs you but you need to take care of yourself. If you don’t, you won’t be any good to him.”
Winry stirred the soup before sipping a spoonful. The taste of salt and chicken broth seemed to dance over her tongue and Winry had to restrain herself from picking up the bowl and drinking from it. Her stomach let out a growl she was sure the entire cafeteria could hear as she supped. Gracia hid her smile behind a fold of her napkin. “Your body knows what it needs, Winry. Eat. And if that isn’t enough, I’ll get you more.” The motherly expression Gracia wore made Winry duck her head. “And you should at least take a nap.”
“I’ll rest on the train.” Winry mumbled around her bite of sandwich. Surely Ed would be better by then and she’d be able to sleep. Catching some of the chicken salad as it spilled out of the bread, Winry licked her finger clean. She tried to ignore Gracia’s studious look. “I can’t leave him, Gracia.”
“I understand how much he needs you, Winry, but you just said you’ll have to spend time in Rush Valley.” Gracia reached across the table, laying her hand on Winry’s. “I know he’s sick and I know you want to take care of him. You can’t do it all.”
The nearly empty bowl of soup and crumbs of sandwich showed Winry just how right Gracia was but, “He’s already landed in the hospital because of all this.” Her fingers twirled in the air, meaning Alphonse’s death; everything that had happened since then. “I have to help him pick himself back up so he can keep moving forward.” Never mind that he hadn’t moved in any direction but down in a long time. This was Edward. He could pull himself out of this rut. He’d done it before; he just needed to be reminded he could do it again. The idea that Edward might not be able to didn’t bear thinking about. “Besides, I’m used to all-nighters. I’ll rest,” Winry hesitated, looking at her empty plate. She’d be busy in Rush Valley, working on automail for her customers. It wasn’t fair to ask Mr. Garfiel to do that, though she was sure he would.
“When?” Gracia’s gentle question brought Winry back to the present. “On the train?” She sighed. “Winry, you have to take care of you. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis will take care of Ed while you come back to my house and take a nap.” When she opened her mouth to protest, Gracia raised a finger. “It’s already been arranged. When you wake up, you can come back to the hospital.” At Winry’s glance toward the doorway, Gracia went on. “Mr. and Mrs. Curtis have it under control. Ed, I mean. You’re my ward.” Though the words sounded funny, Gracia’s expression brooked no argument and Winry found herself stumbling to her feet to follow the older woman to her car.
Later, Winry couldn’t remember the drive to Gracia’s home, and barely recalled getting inside the house. All she did remember was the sweet fragrance of roses on her pillow before she slipped into a dreamless sleep.
* * *
Everything hurt. Edward felt like his skin was stretched too tight over his body. Joints he didn’t know existed had needles sewing through them, even through his automail limbs, worse even than before a thunderstorm. His tongue rasped over his dry lips, flannel over sandpaper, and his eyes were so dry, they itched behind his eyelids. “Nnuuuunng.” Sand lined his throat while bile ate at his stomach and Edward hoped he wouldn’t have to throw up again. He thought he’d been doing that too much lately but he couldn’t quite tell. Memories were twisted and strange right now, like he saw them through a fog.
“Ed? You’re awake?” His master looked down at him, smiling brightly. “I’m glad to see that. Are you thirsty?”
Smacking his mouth, Edward winced at the sensation in his jaw. He almost wished it was automail so he could have Winry grease it. “Winry?” Twisting his body, he searched for her despite the agony moving put him in to.
“She’s resting, Edward.” Mr. Curtis’ form blocked Edward’s view of the doorway.
“Where?” He didn’t see her in the other bed. “Winry?” He raised his voice.
“She isn’t here, Ed.” Izumi shook her head slowly, as if she knew Edward couldn’t follow any fast movements. “She’s resting. She’ll be back soon.”
It hurt his head to frown, all the way down into his brain. “Why?”
“Because she needed to rest.” Izumi frowned back. “Now, do you want something to drink, or not?”
The dry swallow made his throat ache but Edward waved off the question, trying to sit up. Every movement seemed to concentrate first in his joints and twist his skin into knots. He didn’t care, forcing his body to continue moving. “Winry.”
Izumi’s strong hands pushed him back onto the bed. “You’re not getting up, Ed. Winry’s not even in the hospital and you’re in no shape to try to find her.” He struggled against her grip, realizing she was strong enough to keep him pinned. Lips curling back from his teeth, Edward snarled at Izumi. She ignored the threat. “Do you want her so sick she can’t help you? Stay where you are. Don’t do something so stupid as make her worry any more than she already does.”
Panting, he glared at his master. The words wouldn’t come to explain why he had to get up and find Winry. Maybe he shouldn’t even tell Izumi. Maybe she wasn’t Izumi Curtis. Sure, he’d seen Envy commit suicide…hadn’t he? But what if it was a trick? What if Envy was here, now, keeping him pinned to this bed? Bradley had made Winry a hostage and that bastard, Kimbley, was willing to use her to keep Edward under control. Whatever Bradley did, Envy was aware of and that meant Winry could be in danger. “Le’ me go.” He tried to force himself up but Izumi kept him flat on the mattress, didn’t even seem to have a problem with holding him down.
“Do you remember your leg was crushed and removed?” She jerked her chin to the space where his left leg should have been. “And that you were in surgery? You’re not leaving the hospital, Ed.”
“Listen to her, Edward.” Someone moved into view over Izumi’s shoulder. Edward blinked the sweat out of his eyes, trying to focus his vision. Was that Sloth? How did the homunculi get into this place?
“Winry?” Her name escaped him and Edward swore at himself for letting that happen. They’d use her, hurt her, and he couldn’t protect her with Envy holding him down. “Let go of me, you bastard!” He punched at that sneering face.
“Whoa!” Envy laughed, dodging. “Didn’t I tell you before, pipsqueak? I don’t like to fight.”
“Don’t. Call.” Edward shook off the hands. “Me. Pipsqueak!” At the last word, his right leg swung up, knocking into that despised form, sending it sprawling. Envy chuckled, rising to its feet, jaw elongating. Sloth moved in and Edward flung himself off the bed, landing in a heap on the floor. “Shit!” No leg. Where was his leg? What had they done with it?
“Edward!” Envy shouted at him, sounding weirdly concerned.
“No!” He grabbed hold of the bed, using it to haul himself upright. Sloth was prowling around, just out of range. Edward swallowed hard, wishing he didn’t feel so hot and tired. Winry needed him. Something caught his eye and Edward realized he might be able to escape this place, if he could just get to the window.
“Ed, what do you think you’re doing?” Envy glared, a really evil look, but Edward scrambled back, managing to hold onto the bed to keep from falling again.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Sloth said, the most coherent thing Edward could remember coming out of the homunculus’ mouth.
“No need. To worry.” Edward had to take a breath. “‘Bout me.” Where was Al? Why wasn’t Al here helping him? Or that stupid prince? One of them was always around - did he tell them to protect Winry? They wouldn’t just leave him alone with the homunculi, would they? He tried to wipe the sweat from his eyes, smacking himself in the nose hard enough he saw stars. “The hell?” The thing on his arm made no sense. Edward wondered if it was something to keep him from using his alchemy.
“Ed, you’ve been sick,” Envy was saying. “You need to lie back down before you fall down.”
“You’d. Like.” The last word seemed stuck in his throat. Edward couldn’t get it out. Sick? Why? He’d never been sick before. Not since he was a little kid. He couldn’t afford to get sick, not when Al needed him. Where was Al, anyway? Maybe he needed to go looking for his little brother before he tried to find Winry. “What’ve. Done.” He hated that he had to catch his breath again. “Al?” He could just make out Sloth and Envy exchanging glances. Slinging his sweat-damp hair out of his eyes, Edward readied himself for their attack as best he could without letting go of the metal headrail.
“You’re hallucinating, Ed.” Envy’s voice took on a placating note as it started for him.
Sloth moved to block him from the window. “You should be in bed.”
“Nnnng-no!” He shook his head, realizing that made the room swim. Edward had to close his eyes for a few seconds, taking deep gasps of air, trying to keep from falling. His knee buckled and even the grip his metal hand had on the rail didn’t keep him from crashing to the floor. It seemed to take a long time, long enough for Edward to remember that time in Gluttony’s belly with Ling and Envy. Long enough for Edward to remember the heat of the blood spilling out of Alphonse’s stomach.
His guts turned to acid and Edward heaved, feeling everything within him try to turn inside out. Bile spilled out of his mouth, burning his throat, making his nose run. Hands grasped his shoulders and Edward turned, vomiting on Sloth, as if that might scare off the Homunculus.
“We told you you were sick.” Envy stroked his forehead with something cool and damp. Edward wondered what sort of sick reason the homunculus might have for being nice. It had to be a trick, something to make Edward let down his guard. He snapped at Envy’s hand, teeth clicking hard against each other as Envy jerked back. “Ed!”
“Lemme the fuck go!” He thrashed, trying to break free. Tightening his grip around Edward’s torso, Sloth held Edward tight against his chest.
“Get a doctor,” he grunted as Edward’s automail elbow dug unerringly in Sloth’s kidneys and Edward saw Envy back up, running for the door.
The realization struck that Sloth was stronger than he was, though Edward had his doubts the homunculus was smarter. Rather than fight, he let his body go limp, sagging against Sloth’s grip. He coughed, no difficulty in that, his ribs aching from this encounter, then slumped in the homunculus’ arms.
“Ed?”
Sloth’s concern was disconcerting but Edward ignored it, even as a ham-sized hand stroked his sweat-slicked hair away from his face. It was hard to stay still with those fingers so close to his mouth but Edward let his head bobble from the touch rather than whip around and bite. Keeping his eyes half-closed was the most difficult thing; his lids wanted to flicker and move but he guessed he was doing a good job when Sloth lifted him up and laid him back on the bed. Inwardly, Edward seethed - he’d been trying to get out of the bed and now he was back in it - but at least he’d duped Sloth into letting him go. The homunculus lumbered toward the door, voice raised in alarm.
Taking a deep breath, Edward forced his hands together, activating a transmutation circle. The familiar scent of ozone tickled his nose, the bluish light swirled around him. When the light died down, the transmutation revealed a pegleg with straps. It wasn’t as good as Winry’s automail but if it got him around until he found her and Alphonse, it would do. Strapping the pegleg into place, Edward carefully slid off the bed, testing his self-made prosthesis. His thigh fell into the cup, the metal of his automail port ringing softly against the rim of the prosthesis. Grimacing, Edward wondered if he dare take the time to tighten the cup, deciding that could wait until he’d escaped the homunculi.
Edward took a few hobbling steps. The pegleg didn’t work even as easily as the loaner legs the Rockbells produced. Surprised the sound of the leg clacking on the floor didn’t alert Sloth, Edward limped toward the wall. He could transmute his own exit. As he pressed his hands together, he realized he had no idea where to even start his search for Alphonse and Winry. His stomach twisted again, the sensation nearly spilling him to the floor. Edward grabbed for the wall, windmilling his arms, managing to grab hold of something that rattled and clattered. Vision swimming, he tried to focus on what he’d run into. Whatever lay on the top of it looked like instruments of torture.
“Ed!”
The shout startled him, sending him in a half-circle toward the door. It felt like his head kept spinning without him. Edward found himself on the floor, the world circling around him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Master Izumi knelt beside him, grabbing his shoulders and holding him down. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Someone else was on his other side. Edward felt something sting his arm, making him let out a pained, “Ow.” He couldn’t seem to turn his head to see what bit him.
“It’s all right, Lieutenant Colonel.” The voice soothed but Edward couldn’t tell who was talking to him. “Everything is going to be fine.”
No, it isn’t, Edward tried to protest but his tongue felt thick and strange in his mouth and wasn’t cooperating. Wanting to stand, to get away, he attempted to thrust himself up, only to collapse back to the floor, the weight of Izumi’s hands still on him. So stupid, was the last thought in his mind before the black arms from Truth’s doorway dragged him through the opening, the door slamming behind him.
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