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“Shit! Al!”
Ed glanced around hopelessly, and he saw Arthur Blackwood, known pyro and current enemy of the military doing the same, even though there really wasn’t much use. The building had already swayed dangerously, flames licking up the outside wall quicker than Ed was comfortable with. With all the alchemy they had done on the building, its support had gone awfully thin and Ed was worried it wouldn’t last long.
“Al!”
Not to mention he had no idea where his brother was.
“Hey!” Ed exclaimed as Blackwood suddenly made a bolt for the door and clipped Ed’s side, making him lose his balance and grasp the doorway. Ed wasn’t far along after him though and quickly exited the room, heading for the stairs. Hopefully Al would realize what was happening and try to get out quick.
Ed thought it would be better on the stairs heading down, away from the source of the smoke, but somehow it was more stifling in the stairwell, and he coughed as the smoke filled his lungs.
“Idiot, why would you light that fire?” He yelled as he ran after Blackwood down the stairs. Blackwood growled. He swiveled and punched blindly behind him, catching Ed in the jaw.
Ed stumbled, grasping the railing as he saw stars for a second, but continued on when he turned around and saw smoke continue creeping behind him.
Finally, they reached the bottom and Ed frantically glanced around hoping to spot the suit of armor outside. When Al was nowhere in sight, Ed turned back toward the building and felt his face drain of all blood as he saw the state of it.
Black smoke poured out of the windows at alarming speeds, and he even saw flames licking the walls inside. He could tell that the floor he had just been standing in was about to collapse, and Al could still be inside.
“Al!” He yelled again, but his throat gave out and he fell to his knees, coughing and just trying to breath.
“Looks like he’s going down with the building.”
Ed turned to sock Blackwood in the face, but he beat him to it and kicked Ed in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him before running away.
Ed wrapped his arms around his stomach and tried to get any air into his lungs, but he’d breathed in too much smoke, and he was starting to panic. Where was Al?
Ed looked up at the building again and saw that the top floor was starting to cave in, collapsing on the rest of the building. Ed knew the entire building was going to crumble shortly afterwards, and Al was still in there!
Pushing himself up, Ed wheezed and took a step towards the building. He wasn’t going to just watch as it fell, possibly crushing or melting Al. Not if he could do something to prevent it.
“Al!” He yelled again into the building. He took a breath and clapped his hands, forming a transmutation circle. He grasped the doorway and strengthened the formation with the ground. The feat brought him to his knees and he held onto the door as he coughed into his arm.
He knew the alchemy had been helpful though. He could feel the newly strengthened walls, and could only hope that Al hadn’t been in one of the top floors.
He was tempted to go back in and look for his brother. For all he knew, Al was trapped under a fallen support beam, or a collapsed wall, but he could barely breath just standing where he was. He couldn’t imagine surrounding himself again in the smoke.
Just when he was about to transmute the walls again, he heard metal creaking, and looked up in time to see Al appear from the stairwell, quickly followed by plumes of black smoke and bright orange flames not far behind.
“Brother!” Al shouted upon seeing Ed. He ran towards the entrance and barely slowed as he scooped Ed up like a football, running quickly away from the collapsing building.
Al’s hands were hot, and he seemed to realize this when as soon as they were far enough away, he dropped Ed and scuttled a good few feet away from him as if the heat that still clung to him could travel through air. Ed remained on his knees, gasping and coughing, trying to catch his breath.
"Did I burn you?" Al's voice was urgent but calm, contrasting to Ed's still panicked mind. He wheezed and braced himself on the ground as he shook his head no.
Both brothers looked suddenly back to the building as it creaked loudly and crumpled even more.
"Come on, we gotta–" Ed started to say, but his voice was horribly raspy and just that was too much on his lungs. He wheezed again and clutched his chest, trying to ignore the slight pain he'd begun to feel.
"Don't talk, just breath," Al said as he cautiously approached the older alchemist. "Can you walk?"
Ed thought that maybe he could, but the lack of oxygen was starting to make him lightheaded and he feared that he would pass out at any moment. He answered with a harsh sounding cough, and that seemed to be answer enough for Al who caught him as his eyes began to flutter shut. He listened to his own rattly breaths as Al lifted him and began hurrying away.
Ed didn't know how much longer it had been, but soon woke to people frantically running near him. There was something on his face over his nose and mouth. It stuck to his cheeks and pulled at his hair and he wanted it off.
He opened his eyes and realized he must be in the emergency room. Beds surrounded by various supplies and dividers lined the walls, and there was a circulation desk in the middle of the room. Ed's bed was tucked away in a corner, and a divider prevented him from seeing much.
He was surprised to see though that he'd been left alone. While nurses and doctors hurried around near his bed, no one seemed to be paying that much attention to him specifically. Ed didn't care though, if it meant he could sneak out of there quicker.
One thing did seem to be off though, and that was the lack of little brother. Al was nowhere in sight, and that was not normal for a seven foot tall clanking suit of armor. Not to mention the fact that Al was always there when Ed would wake up in the hospital. Always. All the more reason to get out of there.
Reaching up to his face, he easily pulled the mask up and over his head. He immediately felt how his breathing was now more labored and wheezy, but he told himself he would be fine. He'd had worse.
It didn't seem like anyone had gotten an IV in him yet, and he rejoiced at little victories. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he hopped down, hitched his breath, and that's when the coughing began.
And it wouldn't stop.
Ed fell onto all fours, bracing himself on the ground as he tried to catch his breath. The coughing turned into hacking, tearing at his throat, and bringing tears to his eyes. He felt something slide up his throat, and he was tempted to swallow it back down, but he spit it out and was horrified to see that it was black.
"What are you doing?!"
Voices suddenly broke through to his ears over the coughing, and he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Get the mask back on him!"
"Who left him alone?"
"Someone track down his brother."
"Where's Al?" and Truth if it didn't sound like his throat was shredded to pieces.
"Just breath, honey."
Someone gently placed the mask back over his nose and mouth and held the back of his head. Ed wanted to protest at the term "honey", but he was too busy breathing in the sweet oxygen from the mask.
Slowly, the dizziness which he hadn't even realized had been too bad started to ebb, and the emergency room stopped spinning. He focused his eyes on the woman in purple scrubs holding the mask to his face. She smiled when she saw him looking at her.
"I leave you alone for a second, and you hatch an escape plan, huh?"
Ed scowled, not in the mood for nice hospital staff. "Where's Al?" he asked again, but this time his raspy voice was muffled by the mask.
"He went to go make a few phone calls, but someone just went to tell him you're awake," she answered, still holding the mask to Ed's face. Ed didn't like her being this close to him, and he reached up to keep the mask in place so that she would stop holding his head.
"Great," she said, "my name is Ellen by the way," and Ed couldn't help his scowl deepening at her cheeriness. "Do you think you could get back on the bed so I can try again to get your IV in?"
Huh? Ed looked down at his left arm and saw a tiny pinprick in the crook of his arm.
"You have great veins, but I guess today wasn't my lucky day," she said with a shrug. "It was probably nerves knowing I only had a couple chances."
Only a couple chances because there was no other arm to try. Ed hesitantly moved the mask down his face a little.
"Do I have to get it?" he asked, whispering so as not to start another coughing fit.
"I'm afraid so," she said. "You at least need saline to keep you hydrated, and swallowing's not going to be fun at all, you're going to want the IV meds."
Ed highly doubted he would want an IV, but he complied and got back into the bed, surprising himself. While he would never admit it, he kind of liked Ellen. Aside from the "honey", she was treating him like his actual age and she wasn't giving him any bullshit. Most of all, she'd actually answered his question when he asked where Al was.
"Can we wait for Al?" he asked with a slight cough at the end.
Before she could answer though, there was a loud clang, and both Ed and the nurse looked over to see Al very quickly catch himself before toppling over after trying to fit through a narrow hallway across the emergency room.
Al looked… terrible, which was a feat for an emotionless suit of armor. Black scorch marks peppered the upper half of his body, and the white ribbon that hung off his helmet was slightly singed at the end. Ed couldn't help but stare wide eyed as his brother staggered his way in between equipment and doctors to get to him.
"Al–" Ed squeaked, cringing inwardly.
"Brother! You're awake!" relief filled Al's voice, and he hurried the last few feet to Ed's bedside. "I just got off the phone with Lieutenant Hawkeye. She and the Colonel will be here soon so we can brief him on what happened. They might even be able to catch up to Blackwood."
"Why can't we just go–" Ed's voice broke off halfway through trying to say that they could just go to the office. He took the mask off as he coughed harshly into his arm, trying to catch his breath. He choked and the something slimy slid up his throat again. Ellen held a basin below his mouth and he spat into it. She moved it away quickly, but he could see more black sludge coating the bottom of the it.
"Breathe," Ellen commanded again, and she pressed the mask to his face. Ed wanted to tell her it wasn't as simple as that, but he was too busy trying to put the room right side up again.
"Why–" Ed started to say, but had to take a shaky breath before he could get anything else out. He shut his eyes for a second as the lightheadedness caught up to him.
"You breathed in a lot of smoke, Brother," Al explained, partly answering his question. Ed opened his eyes again and startled when he again saw the scorch marks covering his brother. He suddenly wondered if he looked the same, if his hair had been singed as well. His arm twitched as if ready to pull his braid over his shoulder to check, but something else came to his mind. He pointed to the basin that Ellen had set on a rolling cart to the side.
"You're coughing up smoke debris, which mean's you're going to have to stay here tonight so we can keep administering the oxygen," Ellen explained. "The doctors can get more specific with you when they come around, answer all of your questions."
Ed sighed. It was not the answer he wanted.
"Do you think I can put in that IV now?" Ellen asked apologetically. Ed leaned back against the pillows, shutting his eyes in exasperation, but nodding anyway. He switched his hold on the mask to his automail arm and held his left out straight for her to work with. He tried not to flinch at the small pinch and uncomfortable feeling of something sliding into his arm. It wasn't like he'd never had it done before, but it didn't make it easier.
"All done," Ellen said, pulling off a pair of gloves. Ed looked over and saw the catheter neatly taped to the inside of his elbow leading up to a saline bag attached to an IV stand. He groaned. "I'm going to go check the status of your room. Just let any of us know if you need anything!"
"Thank you," Al said, and Ellen gave him a smile before leaving. He took her vacated stool and helped Ed pull the straps of the mask over his head so he would have both hands free.
"You need– polish," Ed said weakly. He hated that just talking seemed to take his breath away, and the fact that he would most definitely pass out without the oxygen that the mask provided.
"It does look like I'm overdue for one," Al said with a small chuckle. "I think I look a little better than you do, though."
"You're all singed–" Ed whispered, "and your ribbon–"
"It doesn't matter," Al said, tone suddenly serious, "if you hadn't strengthened the walls, I would have been trapped."
Ed's eyes widened at the reveal, not thinking his alchemy had really done anything.
"The stairwell doorway had collapsed and I couldn't fit through." Al explained, "There were no windows for me to jump out of. When you did that, it made the doorway right itself. I would have been a melted lump of metal–"
"Don't talk like that!" Ed said forcefully and soon regretted it as he choked again and fought to catch his breath. Al helpfully held the basin under his mouth and he spit out a glob of "smoke debris" or whatever Ellen had called it.
He didn't like thinking about Al dying. Most of the team considered him just about invincible, but Ed was constantly worrying about the blood seal getting damaged. It wouldn't take much for Al's soul to be torn from the suit of armor for good, much less than it would take to kill Ed or Mustang, or anyone of them.
"Just rest," Al said quietly, "we'll talk about it later."
When Mustang arrived at the hospital, he was prepared for a fight. Ready to convince Edward that he had to stay in the hospital as long as the doctors thought he needed. He was ready with the fact that Arthur Blackwood had already been caught by local police shortly after people had reported the burning building. Ed had no reason to leave.
What he didn't expect to find was Alphonse moping around the hospital halls looking like a cooking pot that had been left on the fire for too long. The kid was always with his older brother. When Mustang asked him what he was doing, he mumbled something about how Ed had requested some "decent food". Al was nowhere near the cafeteria though, and looked as if he wasn't actually looking for food at all.
Ed had been brought to a room on the pediatric floor, and the walls outside his room were painted bright colors, and were lined with children's artwork: painted paper plates, crayon drawings, cutout snowflakes… Roy had felt out of place standing among such innocence. He'd removed his ignition gloves and had subconsciously pulled his coat over his service weapon even though no one was around.
Now, standing outside Ed's room, he was almost scared of what was waiting for him on the other side. He didn't expect what he found when he pushed open the slightly ajar door with a sigh.
Ed looked tiny on the bed. He lay curled on his side, the steep incline of the bed putting him in an almost sitting position. His hair was undone and fanned limply behind him. Its usually vibrant golden color was muted and singed in some places. There was an IV line attached to his arm, and an O2 line was set just under his nose. One of his hands gently cradled his side, and the other held a book in front of him. Though his eyes were open, he didn't seem to be reading the book. At the sound of the door opening, his eyes darted to meet Mustang's, and then closed tiredly with a sigh.
"Thought you were… Al."
If Ed's appearance hadn't at first shocked Mustang, his voice definitely did. Scratchy and faint, it was contrasted by harsh coughing that made the Colonel wince. He stared dazedly for a second, before stepping further into the room and shutting the door behind him.
"You sound awful," he said, pulling off his great coat.
Ed weakly rolled his eyes and took a very wheezy and controlled deep breath. The doctor had told Mustang that it would be painful and difficult for Ed to breath, and that he would be coughing for a while. He also notified him of the mild painkiller they'd given him for the first degree burns in the shape of giant hands around his middle.
"Come to yell at me for… destroying a… building… and–"
"The local police caught Blackwood a little while ago," Mustang interrupted the younger alchemist. It was hard to listen to him struggling to form words bookended by hacking. Truthfully, when he'd heard the news that his youngest subordinate had been involved in the destruction of public property, he'd been furious, and ready with a lecture and the threat of indefinite desk duty for the kid.
But then he’d gotten their side of the story from Al, and learned that not only had Ed not started the fire, but that he and Al had both almost died trying to escape the burning building. Riza had stayed behind to get Al’s full statement while Mustang payed Ed a visit.
“His own smoke inhalation managed to slow him down enough and turn enough eyes to garner the police attention.”
“Serves him right,” Ed said. He shut the book and moved it to the bedside table. “Well?”
Mustang furrowed his eyebrows. Ed was staring at him expectantly, most likely waiting for the lecture he’d been practicing on the car ride over.
“I’m not going to yell at you, it wasn’t your fault,” he said.
“It’s never my fault-“ Ed said almost to himself. Then he very suddenly broke out into a coughing fit that had him folding over himself and blindly reaching for a pink basin sitting on the bed. Mustang grabbed the basin and held it to Ed's mouth, also grasping Ed's shoulder to steady him. The coughs were harsh and wet, and Mustang winced just listening. Ed spat something into the basin and grimaced, flopping back onto the pillows in defeat.
“This sucks,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
Mustang had at first been surprised to see that Ed hadn’t initially pulled the O2 line off his face, but now he could see how much he really needed it, with how heavily he was breathing.
“What’s going on with Al?” Mustang asked, trying to get Ed's mind on something else.
“He went to find me some food, damn hospital staff, can’t even do their job-“
“So that's why he's moping around out in the halls then?" Mustang leaned back, crossing his arms. He didn't know why he was trying to get him to open up. Maybe because it was hard seeing the kid without his bravado, or seeing Al so miserable.
Ed took a shaky and controlled breath. "He came so close to dy–" Ed's voice broke, but he kept going, "and all he cared about was whether I was okay. If I hadn't randomly strengthened the walls, he would have been trapped, and all he could talk about was the stupid burns he gave me"
"And you don't think this might be how he feels whenever you almost die?"
"It's not the same," Ed rasped, "his soul is attached to that armor by a five year old blood seal. It would hardly take anything to damage it, and then he would be gone."
"Have you talked to him about it?"
Ed scowled, glaring at him. Mustang just gave him a pointed look back, and the staring contest was one for the books. Ed finally broke it after about a minute with a sigh.
"Shut up, bastard, you give terrible advice."
Mustang didn't say anything, just kept up his stare, his arms still crossed.
"What's it to you…anyway? The perp is caught! Thank you for…signing whatever…hospital paperwork shit I had, but…you're free to go now–"
Ed's outburst had caused another coughing fit, this one more spastic and forceful than the last. He again coughed the black spit into the basin, and was sat gasping, a slightly panicked look on his face.
"Do you need a nurse?" Mustang asked, unsure of what to do. Ed shook his head, and pointed a trembling hand to a breathing mask that was hanging off of his IV stand. Mustang reached for it and handed it over, watching as Ed held it to his face and breathed, the plastic fogging up with each breath. After a few seconds, his breathing finally slowed down. Once he'd caught his breath, he set the mask down on the bed and wrapped his flesh arm protectively around his waist with a whimper that shocked the Colonel.
"I'm not leaving," Mustang said quietly. "You're my subordinate, and contrary to popular belief, I care about my subordinates."
Ed rolled his eyes.
"And their brothers."
At this, Ed scowled, and opened his mouth to retort, but at that moment, said brother appeared in the doorway with Hawkeye peering out from behind.
"Edward, good to see that you're alright," Hawkeye said. "Colonel, the local police are on the phone wanting a statement from you."
Mustang nodded and stood, pulling his coat off the back of the chair. "We'll head back to East City once you're cleared for discharge," he said to Ed. Then with a lazy salute, he left with Hawkeye.
Ed let out a breath and leaned back against the pillows as Al hesitantly came further into the room and took Mustang's recently vacated chair.
"The cafeteria was clos–"
"Al?"
Ed's voice was weak, and could barely be heard over Al's but the younger quickly noticed and quieted.
"Yeah?"
"Don't you get scared?"
Al was quiet, and curse his emotionless face that was impossible to read. It had been hard enough to ask the question, but waiting for the answer was almost worse. Ed forced his gaze to remain on Al's face, and not dart nervously away.
"Yeah," Al's voice came out quiet, as if he was revealing something he shouldn't. "I get scared a lot."
Ed didn't say anything, truthfully taken aback by Al's honesty.
"How many souls are attached to an inanimate object?" he chuckled slightly, but it was halfhearted. Ed couldn't even bring himself to smile. "Sometimes, at night when you're sleeping, I get so deep in my thoughts and suddenly I can't move. Every time I wonder if the armor is rejecting me, and then it's over and everything's fine. But it's hard to forget."
Al's voice had gotten if possible, even more quiet. Ed could only stare wide eyed and shocked at the confession. He knew Al's nights were lonely, but he didn't know that.
"You can tell me–you know– when that happens," Ed said, "you shouldn't have to hide it to yourself."
"Okay," Al said.
"Sometimes I think about how easy it would be for you to be ripped from the armor–" Ed said, pausing to take a breath, "it terrifies me," he said, his voice coming out as a whisper.
His breathing had started to quicken and his hands were shaking. He forced himself to calm down, not wanting another coughing fit.
"I know," Al said. One of his big hands covered Ed's on the bed, stopping it from shaking.
Al physically couldn't breath or have shaky hands. His fear didn't manifest in physical ways. It just seemed wrong and all the more scary for Ed to witness.
Ed took a deep breath, the easiest one he'd taken all day. "We'll find that stone, and then this will all be behind us," he said, determinedly.
"Definitely," Al said, with just as much fervor. Ed smiled and leaned against the pillows, his eyes shutting.
"Get some rest, brother."