Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Impossible! ❯ Red and Gold ( Chapter 7 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Rizenbool, July 12th 1910

Ed had a fever.

Just like she knew he would. Almost all of the books she had read said that it was a very normal reaction, especially during nerves treatments. The fever started at night, soon after he finished his first therapy; Winry was the first one who noticed. After some convincing, they finally managed to usher him to bed.

His temperature increased as the hours ticked away. By one in the morning, he had reached 39º C, which wasn't good at all. Too bad they could not give him any medication, since any kinds of medicine was forbidden while patients were undergoing their nerves therapy. The only thing she could do was putting a bag of ice-cold water on his forehead so the fever would not damage his brain.

He slept restlessly, occasionally tossing and turning, waking up every now and then. She was forced to handle him slightly rough to keep him on his back, so the ice bag would not slip.

Al was outside the room, he sometimes did that. He had been sitting outside a lot at nights. The first time Winry discovered this new habit of his was also in a time like this; Ed was struggling with a fever, and she was sitting in the room nursing him. That was also the night that Winry found out that Al did not sleep… could not sleep with his present body.

Ed turned again to his side, facing her. The ice bag slipped again from his forehead, hitting the mattress with a bump. She was about to stand up and correct his position when his eyes slowly opened.

His voice came out hoarse at first, so he cleared his throat before trying again, “Winry… Al’s outside?” His gold eyes pierced in the night, even if they were rather dilated, probably due to his fever.

“Yes,” she replied. She put one hand at each of his shoulders and pushed him back gently.

Ed got her message and obliged, his eyes wandered to the ceiling.

Winry put the ice bag back onto his forehead but he avoided it.

“No, too cold.” he complained.

She dropped the bag onto her lap. “You prefer a cool cloth instead?”

“Hmm,” he murmured his agreement.

She decided that she could get the things later; she put the ice bag beside the candle on the side table. “How do you feel?”

He lifted his left forearm, put over his eyes and snorted dejectedly, “Like crap.”

She let out a soft laugh, “Body hurts all over?”

“Hmm,” he murmured again.

“Well, your fever is high, maybe I should get you that cool cloth now?”

“Not right now; I’m fine. Maybe later,” said Ed. He lifted his forearm, wincing in the process. “No medication, huh?” he asked wryly.

“No,” Winry shook her head. “Sorry.”

“I hate medicines anyway…” he trailed off indifferently, his voice slurred.

Winry smiled tenderly, “You’re going back to sleep?” She pulled his blanket up to his chin then brushed the fabric gently.

Ed murmured something she couldn’t hear, but probably something like ‘thank you’ or ‘yes.’ But knowing Ed it was probably the last.

She waited a few seconds as his breath steadied; after she was convinced that he was asleep she stood up and made her way towards the door.

“…ay….”

Winry stopped in her tracks, not quite sure if it was his voice that she had heard. Slowly, she turned on her heels, “Huh?”

“Stay here…,” he slurred again.

She moved back beside his bed, wanting to check if he was really awake or he was only talking in his sleep. Surprisingly, his eyes were open, though they were still rather dilated. He was staring right through her, like he didn’t really see her standing there.

Winry felt the pained smile tugged the corner of her lips. She brushed his long bangs away from his face. “I’ll get Al for you….”

His left hand abruptly came out from under the covers and held her wrist, his eyes focused on hers, “No… stay, Win…”

Winry suddenly felt exceptionally hot, especially around her face, and her heart picked up a pace. He had never called her ‘Win’ before… it felt disturbing… yet in a strange pleasant kind of way. She tried to pull her hand away, but Ed held tight. For a sick person, he had quite a strong grip.

Her throat felt dry. “I- but your cool cloth?” Winry did not like the stammer in her voice.

“Just put the ice-bag back.” It was no request, his command came out plain and clear; leaving no room for her to argue.

“Mmm…kay,” she replied uneasily, sitting down again on her wooden bench. Ed slowly let go of her wrist.

Silence fell between them, the only sound she could hear was Ed’s rather heavy but steady breath. Not knowing what to do, she put the ice-bag back onto his forehead. This time he did not move away from it and his eyes eventually slid close again.

He looks peaceful like that; she thought. His face was relaxed, and his expression was of one who did not care for the rest of the world. When she studied his sleeping face, it finally came to her how much Ed had changed. He did not smile in his sleep anymore. He used to grin like an idiot when he was sleeping, stomach exposed and all. She used to tease him while he napped under their sanctuary. She smiled tenderly at the fond memories.

His sleep was not the only thing that had changed in him. He was less open… more quiet. His grins reduced to dry smiles, his laugh was almost unheard of. He spent a lot of time in the library, surprisingly reading books about automail –not alchemy like she would have expected him to. He never even bragged about his alchemy anymore, nor did she see him doing it. She was happy that he was out of his state of depression, but seeing the laugh escape his life was equally as painful.

“I don’t want him to see,” Ed suddenly spoke, snapping her out of her musings. His voice eerily quiet.

Winry stood and pulled his blanket up again, his arm back under it. “Al?”

He hummed his ‘yes.’

“You don’t want him to see what, Ed?”

Ed fell silent for a while; Winry thought he would not answer.

“… me,” he replied slowly, hesitantly. “I don’t want him to see me complaining,” another pause, “Compared to his pain this is nothing.”

“Ed...,” she began sadly.

“…they hurt,” he cut off her sentence, like he did not even want to hear what she had to say.

She stared at him. Did he just…?

“…the jolts hurt really bad,” Ed continued, “I felt like my arm and leg were torn all over again, and seared with a dagger again…. They were all over my body, I couldn’t think straight… I couldn’t see straight… all I see is red and gold, they blinded me….”

Her eyes blurred, and she bit on her lower lip. His voice rang in her mind, his groans of pain from the treatment echoed inside her head. Winry felt drained, she felt useless… she hated feeling useless.

She opened her mouth to say something, but the only thing came out was a horrible whimper.

“I shouldn’t complain,” Ed threw his face away, his voice in disgust. The ice-bag slipped again, but neither of them moved to pick it up. “This is my decision; I don’t have the rights to protest.”

Winry bit on her lower lip harder. She cursed in frustration inside her head. She did not want him to know that she was crying. She could feel his gaze searing her; she did not dare to lift her face, hiding behind her bangs.

His voice came out quiet, almost weary, “Why are you crying?”

Her hands instantly flew to her eyes, no use pretending anymore now that he knew. Wiping her tears furiously, she shook her head, not giving him any reply.

He gave a tired snort, shaking his head, “You always cry a lot, Winry….”

“Shut up,” she quipped hoarsely, masked with emotions.

Ed returned his gaze to the ceiling. “I never meant to make you cry…,” he murmured distantly.

She shook her head again. She didn’t want to make him get the wrong impression, she was not crying because he was complaining. “I don’t care. I prefer crying than not knowing about your pain.”

“….”

“No. I’m serious, Ed. I’m your therapist, from now on; I want to hear every pain from you, every discomfort.”

“You’re crying,” he argued.

“Not because you complained.”

Ed looked at her again, his expression unreadable.

She held his gaze, her voice now strong, demanding, “Promise me you will. You’ll tell me every time you feel it.”

He did not answer immediately. His gold eyes studied her, unwavering. But in the end he sighed yieldingly, “Okay, I promise.”

She nodded, but not done yet, “And when you finally get those metal limbs, you’ll let me be your mechanic and take care of them. I would have no less.”

“…fine,” he shook his head. “You and your automail… I always knew you were weird.”

She huffed in an unlady-like manner, “Well, I’m a girl mechanic, what did you expect? A perfect Xing bride?”

He smiled at her secretively and her stomach fluttered. She decided that she did not want to know what he was thinking about.

Grandma Pinako entered the room not long after, demanding Winry to have some sleep. Al came back to the room, and took over her duty. The next thing she knew, she was steered away to own room and tucked into bed in no more than ten minutes.

“Try to get some sleep,” said Pinako as she lit a candle beside Winry’s bed.

Winry opened her mouth to say something but it quickly turned into a huge yawn. She murmured her agreement and turned away from the door, lying on her right side. “Oyasumi, baa-chan,” she murmured again.

“Sweet dreams, Winry,” replied her grandma. Winry did not even hear the elder woman exit the room; she was out in a flash.

She did have a sweet dream that night (or morning, regarding the grandfather’s clock). She dreamt something about a Xing wedding, she was wearing a red wedding dress, and her groom had familiar gold eyes.

She did not remember the dream by the time she woke up. The only thing left from her dream was a small pleasant smile tugging on the corner of her lips, and a blur of red and gold.

Ooo TBC ooO