Content Warning: Extremely graphic depictions of vomiting and illness, and major FMAB spoilers.
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Summary: On a day trip back to Central and on poor timing, Alphonse comes down with the flu and gets it bad. Sometime after Promised Day.
Notes: I think a demon possessed me and made me write an entire novel about the blorbo brothers. I should mention that I reference CoS Alphonse’s design (cause it’s objectively better 🙄/j). Shoutout to @bugbytez13 for the plot idea and turning me into a fervent Al enjoyer
Extra Note: I can't believe I fucked up when the EdWin confession happened, I'm such a fake fan,,,,,, Just like pretend that the last chapters were like a proposal and they are already dating or something to spare me the humiliation 😭🤚
(I swear to god this is the last edit I make)
The trip back to Central to visit old friends was supposed to be tranquil.
The brothers had grown used to the hustle and bustle of the city from their time in the military before the Promised Day. Still, it was weird that Alphonse no longer took up most of a seat across from him. If they ever chose to, they could fit in the same seat with room to spare. Sometimes, he still acted like he was that large hunk of armor that bumped into things, back when he was that size. And after regaining his human body, he was still getting used to being, well, human sized again.
Their day started early, and yet Edward was watching his brother sleeping deeply on the brief ride there. His cane was across his lap with his head against the glass. A halo of foggy condensation surrounded his face against the cold window. He'd been acting a bit off all morning, but he'd been chalking it up to a lack of sleep. Given some time to reflect, he wasn't so sure if that was the truth anymore.
Something was wrong with Alphonse today.
Usually, he was very patient and good-natured. Since waking up, he seemed slightly off-kilter and sullen. He was quiet to begin with, but the silence he gave Edward had an air of irritation to it, like a storm cloud was rolling in over his head. It looked like a hellishly bad mood, which, for Edward, was not unheard of with his bad temper— but Alphonse, he wasn't like that just randomly. He asked Al if something was bothering him, but his brother dismissed his concerns politely as if he wasn’t glaring daggers at the breakfast table.
As much as he didn't want to wake him up, he gently shook his brother's shoulder right before their stop to give him ample time to collect himself. "Psst. Al, our stop’s coming up soon."
"Oh," Al mumbled, cracking an eye open. Goodness, he looked tired. "I'm awake." He brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. Straightening up in his seat, Alphonse gazed out the window vacantly as the train came to a steady stop. The world around him felt fuzzy and the air was heavy, making it difficult to breathe in. It felt like the air got trapped in his throat and chest. It made his airways ache down to his lungs.
Unknowingly, he was making that irritable face again. Edward recoiled in his seat, regretting his decision to wake him up at all.
The train came to a complete stop just moments later. He stood in tandem with Ed, firmly planting his walking stick down. He needed it less and less, but was not past the point of using it to walk longer distances. Today, however, he found himself supporting his whole weight on it, not trusting his legs to hold him up.
Furthermore, he was feeling a bit of vertigo. Paired with a gradually developing headache, it left him feeling unsteady on his feet. Since being on the train, he found that his head was not the only part of him feeling unsteady. After getting his body back, he noticed moving vessels made him feel queasy, which he recalled Edward struggling with early into their commutes from place to place when he first joined the military. He grew used to the travel sickness, and Alphonse hoped that he would too. Because boy, it wasn’t a fun time.
Today, the turning of his unsettled stomach had him looking even more annoyed. Was it because he was already so done with today? Because he was just feeling so exhausted and just... blah?
Alphonse tripped on the way out of the train, grateful for his cane and Edward's steadying arm to break his fall. Ed was talking, but Al wasn't paying all that much attention to the world around him beyond watching where he stepped. He was a bit cold, which perhaps was only making him moodier. Speaking felt like too much of a chore right now. He felt bad for his attitude up to now, truthfully.
Reaching the headquarters, the two enter and Alphonse audibly sighed, relaxing his tense muscles that he was unaware he had been tensing until now. It's so much warmer here.
What the two boys did not foresee was the flight of stairs. "It's fine, brother. I'm feeling kind of tired, I wanna wait down here." Edward turned to Al with a pensive expression, that look of worry and apprehension from earlier returning. Alphonse hoped he could dissuade him from worrying about him. "You sure, Al?"
"Positive, I'll be fine. Tell them I said hello for me." Shooting Edward a reassuring grin, he waved him off and listened to his brother's footsteps ascending the stairs before turning the corner on the current floor. The look on his face stuck with him, fastened to his psyche like a tumor. Al took a second to reconsider, and despite the lack of motivation and the fatigue, he felt a rush of determination as he stared up at the flights of steps twisting over and above him.
He would go up there to say hi to everyone with him, albeit a tad late. With a deep breath and a grunt, the boy experimentally took a few steps. The world went out of focus and he felt like he was falling. Clutching the barrister by one arm while the other was braced against his cane, he waited out the wave of vertigo. That very brief surge of adrenaline kept him standing just long enough to reach for support.
He shuffled back down the few steps he successfully went up defeatedly. By raw determination alone, he still wouldn't have made it up the stairs before his legs gave out on him, or worse if he blacked out. That would really have the opposite effect than intended. Al intended on staying out of the way of his and Ed’s pleasant day back in the city.
Using his walking stick to cement each step, he approached the waiting room that was primarily for subordinates awaiting a receptionist or their superior officer themselves to initiate their mission briefing or issuance. It was a mostly vacant space filled with chairs.
Alphonse couldn't help but let himself fall onto his side into one of the chairs towards the corner of the room, lay there and close his eyes. Idle chatter from the farther sides of the room reverberated with high sensitivity that he couldn't block out, exacerbating the throbbing headache and causing the world around him to crash into him in waves.
The ache that formed behind his eyes continued to pound with his heartbeat, he hoped laying down might relieve it some. He also hoped the remainder of this motion sickness would fade away after some rest. Now that he was laying here inside headquarters, it was too warm here.
It was a heat that felt like it was baking him from the inside like an oven, no hint of coolness from the air. It was as if the air itself had turned into a dense, thick gas tainting the oxygen on a molecular level. He was just waiting for the sweltering fumes to break him apart just like the oxygen. Unlike the dry heat of the desert, the air pressing against his skin was humid and unavoidable. Heavy, hot, and uncomfortable.
Still, he couldn't bring himself to move, his entire body felt like lead. Like a blessing from the great beyond, he drifted into a light sleep.
He woke up feeling more miserable and for extra measure, alone.
That fuzziness around himself evolved into a spiny, prickling sensation. His brain felt like it was being bashed in with a mallet to his skull and making his head hurt like mad. As well as the sweltering warmth of the building and his pounding headache, his stomach turned and flipped with nausea of higher intensity. It still wasn't gone. He didn't miss any part of that sensation back before regaining his body. It never even crossed his mind, but if it wasn’t on his list of things to do after getting his body back, he didn’t want any part of it.
Opening his eyes, he pulled one of his heavy, shaking arms to push himself to sit up. A dull ache reverberated through his limbs down to the bones. His aching head spun at the sudden change in posture, stomach doing somersaults.
He swallowed hard and dropped his head in his hands, willing the queasiness to subside. He really didn't want to throw up or pass out. Alphonse wasn't sure which it was gonna be, but he was expecting one of these outcomes in the near future. The tumultuous churning of his stomach never ceased, it only intensified.
He found himself holding his breath to stave off heaves hiding in the way back of his throat, lying in wait for the slightest spasm. Holding his breath made him even more woozy, and thus more nauseated. The world swirled and warped around him and against his skin, the humid air shoved and morphed like a dense, sweaty, massive crowd. Every molecule and microbe flitting around him, invisible to the naked eye, were pressing down on him with an immense atmospheric pressure that squeezed his organs, threatening to pop him like a balloon.
God, he did not feel good.
This was starting to feel less like a migraine or motion sickness, and more like an actual illness. Even with his head in his hands, he couldn't determine if he had a fever or not. He knew he was sweating and shaking simultaneously, which according to most medical documentation could be a sign of elevated body temperature... But thinking about it was making his headache even worse.
In the hazy state he was in, he stood with a hand over his eyes and swallowed back coppery saliva. He was determined to just splash some water over his face and ride it out until Edward came back, then they could go home and he’d sleep off this horrible illness.
Only for short periods could he look around before needing to cover up his eyes again, lest he collapse from the sheer force of gravity paired with swirling vision. Had he kept them open the entire time, he would have lost the battle against his nausea sooner. All while he stumbled through the corridor towards the nearest washroom.
What's more of a miracle is he never bumped into anyone or hit a wall in doing so.
Upon entering and slamming the door behind himself, the vertigo returned at the sight of the tiles. He emptily gagged and all but collapsed in front of the latrine like diving for safety in a disaster. Alphonse heaved unproductively for a while, no definite time applied other than it sure felt like an eternity, so it must be.
He groaned and put his head down, resting on his hand. Nothing was happening, exacerbating his suffering exponentially. Even though nothing was coming up, his stomach felt full and churned incessantly. He seriously considered inducing vomiting, but as he lifted his other hand, he dropped his head again, too scared to pull through with it. He really wished Ed was here, but he was too far away to reach. He was too busy catching up with old friends and comrades.
Besides, what's more burdensome than taking care of your sick little brother? Way to kill the mood, what a surefire way to ruin the day…
Al was hellbent on not being a burden to Ed any more than he already is.
He kept his eyes closed not to stare down into the bowl, not wishing to increase the already unmanageable nausea. He was earnestly praying to whatever god may hear his desperate pleas, that maybe, just maybe— Ed would find his way over to him. It was just wishful thinking, for if it actually came to pass, he'd be genuinely torn on how to react.
Hardly wasting his energy on swallowing, he let the thick saliva drip down into the water. Suddenly his mouth like it had dried up, rendering him temporarily unable to swallow. He attempted to swallow in futility, but it made him gag until it brought up a small mouthful of sick. I hate this so much...
He coughed and spat into the bowl, out of breath and shaking horribly. More unproductive retches tore up his throat, each cough sending burning pains to shoot through his esophagus. He reached to flush and took several seconds to stand. Between the weakness and the shakiness, getting up without his walking stick in this state was nigh impossible.
He left his cane behind in the lobby and now had to traverse back there. Not before his knees buckled and he hacked up another torrent of sick, reeling in the prospect of standing up all over again. He felt crushed.
With one hand over his cramping abdomen that churned under his touch, his other hand kept slightly out to the wall to maintain balance, he stood as slowly as his body allowed. So excruciatingly slow his aching and sore limbs trembled and locked up and the lights around him were stagnant.
Needing to grasp the doorframe as he transitioned to holding the wall for support, he staggered and willed his knees not to buckle again. His breaths shook and felt like the magnitude of air he was inhaling contorted his ribs, popped his lungs like balloons. His chest hurts, his stomach hurts, his head hurts, God... Everything hurts.
It felt like every gear in his body was turning in opposite directions. Head spinning... stomach turning... limbs not cooperating...
Alphonse felt the floor pull out from underneath him like a rug, fully prepared to just fall unconscious at this point. Until he brushed against someone's shoulder, he didn't open his eyes. The two figures fell to the floor and Al was reeling. The floor felt so nice he could just... fall asleep...
A momentary pause as the mystery voice huffed and fumbled with something small and metal, judging by the clicks and lack of a hollow reverb. Glasses, maybe? These sounds made his ears hurt, he was sure they'd start to bleed. "Phew... are you alright?" Alphonse opened his eyes to– is that...? Sheska?
He must have said her name out loud on accident, because the woman perked up. "That voice... Alphonse?!" She all but jumped up and shook his hands while he stared back sheepishly, equally bewildered, but blank. "I–It's so wonderful to finally meet you in the flesh!! I'm sorry I didn't recognize you, I'm better with faces. But hey, now I'll never forget you."
Al shook his head, trying to smile through the pain behind his eyes that worsened with the volume of her voice. He must have winced, because she made a face. "Yeah... it's me, miss Sheska." She offered to help him up and Alphonse closed his eyes as he stood with her assistance, not intent on allowing a second chance to faint. Not while talking to someone, that would be rude of him to do.
"Um... Forgive me for asking, but..." He cleared his throat and wryly smiled. "I need to sit down... I don't feel very well at the moment." Upon hearing this, she clicked her tongue in sympathy with a frown, she looked like she was thinking.
"Oh dear. You can sit down in the library since it's right here! Nobody else is using it if that's a concern at all." Sheska replied, sounding a tad bit concerned and outstretching an arm to hold Alphonse upright. He did not comment on it aloud, but man, was he grateful for her. Either she's really strong, or he's still standing on his own two feet. He honestly couldn't feel his anything, just a pins-and-needles sensation buzzing through his body. Blissful numbness.
"Thank you... brother is upstairs at the moment. I... don't want to bother him." He knew he looked rough, but hadn't actually caught a glimpse of his own face. Alphonse was pale and disheveled, and seemingly overnight he developed dark circles under his eyes. His skin was almost sheet white, as if all the blood drained from his head. She must have been worried he'd black out on her.
To anyone, he looked dead on his feet.
"Are you sure you don't want me to phone for him? You're..." Sheska started, and Alphonse hiccuped uncertainly, pausing to swallow back another, not trusting it to be just air. "No, I... I've worried him enough already. I want him to– hic... Sorry. I want him to have a good time while we're in town..." Sheska pursed her lips into a thin line as she listened to his train of thought derail.
She could tell he was a bit delirious, supported by the heat pouring off of him through their clothes.
Sheska led him in to the library and watched him slump down into one of the seats with his head rested against the back of the chair. Al closed his eyes once more, sighing deeply. "You do look awful." She remarked before covering her mouth and retracting her statement. "I–I mean—" But Alphonse nodded in agreement. "Ah... I know what you meant." He responded gently. "I feel awful, too."
Sheska was silent for a moment, then she strode over to him and experimentally reached out her hand to feel his face. Naturally, Alphonse jumped a little at the sudden gesture. "...Oh— forgive me. I was thinking." The woman said, frowning. "You feel really warm, like you have a fever. Do... you actually want me to fetch your brother?"
Alphonse was silent for a moment. "No... I don't want him to worry, or worse go home early because of..." He paused, suddenly feeling his stomach flip inside out. Oh no. He swallowed hard, bracing himself and feeling lightheaded. "Sheska, I think–"
"You what–?" Sheska gasped when Al gagged into his hand, feeling slick bile coating his palm. "Hurry—" His muffled pleas were lost in Sheska's panicking. Without thinking, she rushed over with a half-full coffee mug. "Uh, uhh here!!" She then yelped as the boy heaved over the cup. He coughed and whimpered and spat a mouthful of stomach acid into the mug. "I–I'm so sorry... miss Sheska..."
There was a moment of lag where she was thinking something over. Suddenly, she blurted out: "I—I'm so sorry for this!!" She ever so delicately set the mug on the floor below him and sprinted out of the library. On a mission to find Edward, but Alphonse was unaware of the true intent behind her actions and thus he felt abandoned.
Alphonse sat in the now quiet room, only his panting breaking through the dead silence. He hung his head between his knees, watching stringy saliva drip slowly into the ominous mix of coffee and stomach contents.
Now he really felt alone.
A clock ticked overhead, each tone sending a shockwave of pain through his head. He shivered even through the sweltering heat underneath his coat, he shrugged off one shoulder, but hadn't realized it was clasped. Suddenly, he hiccuped and weakly gagged, mostly liquid vomit rushing up his throat and splashing into the mug. It burns...
Suddenly, a strange thought popped into his head, courtesy of that fever of his.
... Does this mean I look like a coffee machine? ... ... Even when I'm human I'm not human anymore. ... ... ... Woah... I need to get a grip. ... ... ... ...
He closed his eyes and let it happen, drawing in a shuddering breath as tears stung his eyes, and sinuses already burning. Maybe it was the fever, but he really wished their mom was here. She would know how to make everything feel just a little bit less miserable.
… Why think of HER all of a sudden …
"AL! ALPHONSE, WHERE ARE YOU?"
He flinched. The shriek hardly penetrated his hearing at first, delayed, accompanied by hurried, pounding footsteps. They echoed distantly until he could no longer hear them, no matter how hard he tried listening for them. Impressive feat, when everything in the near vicinity was making his eardrums bleed.
Without opening his eyes, he silently pleaded (or rather, repeating his name aloud unknown to himself) that it was Edward while everything went completely still around him.
Down the stairs and to the far left, as he remembered. The brothers had memorized the layout of the buildings all the way down to each floorboard and overhead light. He did a thorough sweep of the waiting lobby, down to each individual seat and the floor. He reached one of the sofas and only came upon Alphonse’s walking stick.
There was a dark haired woman in red clothing sitting on the other side of the seat, now with her attention on Edward. On the armrest was a notepad she’d been perusing. “Hey– Ah, excuse me, ma’am. Have you seen a boy that looks kinda like me around this area? Or might you know where the owner of this cane is?” He held up the walking stick in question to potentially grind some gears.
“Mm. The boy must have been long gone before I took this seat.” Her droll voice slightly grated against his eardrums, her tone was one of boredom. “Of all people who came and went, none of which have looked… like you.”
“The fuck you mean by tha– Ahem.”
“You really are as I’ve heard.” She grinned, crimson lipstick contrasting with the stark paleness of her face. “However, I am not lying about my answer. This cane was already sitting here on the ground, I merely set it next to me. Surely whoever it belongs to would prefer it is easily accessible.” She placed a hand on her notepad, the other hand gravitating to her mouth as she coughed softly.
“In that case, thanks for… almost nothing.”
She was unfazed by his attitude, like it was just as she’d expected. “Go on and continue your search. Hopefully it will not be long now before you find your brother.” The woman flipped to a page of the notepad filled with writing and what looked like revisions in a different colored pen.
Edward turned around to see Sheska racing towards the lobby following her exclamation. She skidded to a stop and had her hands braced on her knees, taking a breather. It was as if she’d been running all around the place.
“What is it?” She must have seen the walking stick in his hand and pointed to it, looking up at him breathlessly. With a slight movement of her fingers, she stuck up her index finger signaling him to wait. “Hah… Ah… It’s Alphonse. He’s in the library—” She sounded frantic, and in turn made him fear the worst.
That was when he bolted without hearing the rest.
Through the corridors leading to the room they’d spent most of their time in when they were inside this building, he sprinted. It didn’t matter how many people he nearly collided with on the way, more pressing, terrifying matters were on the brain– like Al’s safety. He’d already lost him once, it was perfectly justified why he was so afraid of anything happening to him.
Losing him a second time would mean the end of the world all over again.
"Alphonse! Al!" He skidded into the doorway and stopped dead in his tracks. There was Alphonse, crumpled over himself to one side. He looked like he might be unconscious. He was so pale, almost gray, sweating through his shirt and soaked his fringe. "Al? Al!" He rushed over and shook his shoulders, all his brother could muster was a faint murmur.
Sheska caught up and watched, panting in the doorway. "I–I'll hail a cab to the train station! I'll be right back!!" And she was off like a shot again. She definitely hit her weekly quota of physical activity.
He embraced his brother, hand on the back of the other boy's head and stroking his hair, which had begun falling out of the ponytail he put it in. He wanted to keep his hair long for a while longer, because he liked how Edward's hair looked pulled up. Even though his hair turned darker the older he got, they still looked so similar. "Yes, yes... I'm here now..."
"... I'm sorry..." Al muttered, letting his head rest against Ed's shoulder limply, devoid of energy. "... I threw up, and I'm sorry." Edward grimaced, shaking as he silently nodded along with the delirious mutterings. Guilt pierced through his chest like an arrow. He was hardly even conscious and yet he was sorry for... just what exactly?
Now he knew how he must've sounded to granny and Winry after his initial automail surgery, drugged and feverish out of his right mind. He didn't remember a damn thing.
"No, no. I'm the sorry one here, Al... but I'm here now. Let's go home." He broke apart from their embrace, and he watched his ill brother slump against his arm. "I'll take you home, don't worry about a thing... I'm here." Edward positioned himself so he could carry Alphonse on his back, and once he took a (weak) hold, he situated him and held his legs. Al rested his head against the back of his neck.
"Jeez, and you're burning up, too..." He bit his lip as he began walking. After everything he put his little brother through, he'd gone and done it again. He fucked up. Again.
"I'm so fucking sorry." He said softly, and the brunette weakly nodded, not even listening. "You can... carry me now..." Al chuckled a bit to himself absently. Ed felt his heart shatter into a billion pieces. All of this was his fault. Even after getting his body back, Al saw himself as that huge chunk of steel that got in the way and made lots of noise, drew attention.
He'd been treated like a grown, hulking man because of his appearance, everyone thought he was the Fullmetal Alchemist. He was only 14 then. He was still scared of the dark. He hated sleeping alone, and even the reprieve of rest was stolen from him. He always loved picking up and taking care of stray cats.
But after all this bullshit Ed put him through, he persisted, because he trusted Edward.
He didn't realize he had tears streaming down his cheeks until Sheska encountered them. "Are... you okay?" She frowned, the glare over her glasses briefly obscuring her eyes as she stared. "Well– the cab's here. I'll... I'll get the doors." Perhaps she knew that her question fell on deaf ears. And Sheska didn't like stirring up trouble, she preferred maintaining the peace.
"Thanks." He mumbled to her as she opened the door for him. He then noticed in her hand Alphonse's cane, her eyes followed his gaze and she perked up, having forgotten she was still holding onto it amidst the chaos. "Oh, I– I picked it up after you rushed to his side. I figured that it belonged to him if you were running around with it while looking for him."
"Thanks again." He said. Sheska seemed to think of something, and tapped on Al's shoulder. He opened his eyes, just barely. "I wasn't running away to leave you—" Alphonse closed his eyes again and smiled, nodding to himself. "You led him over to me... Thank you, Miss Sheska..."
Tears even stung her eyes, moved by the pure gratitude. "P— Please come back when you're feeling better, okay?! Don't be strangers, now!"
Edward nods, briefly locking eyes with her before looking away. "Sure." Sheska opened the cab door and helped Ed get Al situated inside. "Thanks again. Guess I owe you." Sheska waved her hand. "Nonono...!! I'm just helping because I want to. Well– I was squeamish but held it together! Then I found you, and—"
"No, no, you're good. Thanks."
He helped Alphonse out of the cab. Turns out Sheska even paid the right amount to get them to the station... He really does owe her. That memory of hers has saved their hides more times than he can count.
Alphonse supported himself using his cane, allowing Edward to guide him, being his eyes. Ever since getting his body back, gravity has hated him, and vertigo was a real pain to deal with. It never helped that his muscles were still weakened from long term deterioration. Ed knew this, some days were worse than others. It was not uncommon for Alphonse to be glued to the floor just to not lose consciousness.
Alphonse forgot how much bodies ached and throbbed whenever something was wrong with it. His head pounded, his stomach was cramping and doing flips, and his entire body was just sore and shaky and stiff. Being sick sucked, but he would never take it for granted ever again. He was eternally grateful to just feel anything. Still hated every minute of this, though.
As they were walking, something hot rushed up his throat and he pitched over, hacking up a stream of bile. Edward kept a hold of his shoulder and pushed back his bangs. He gathered his hair that since was falling out of the ponytail. Alphonse coughed and gagged up a thicker mouthful of sick. The kind that sounded like he was choking on it.
Al just groaned, spitting and catching his breath. "No sorry... please."
Silence fell between them. While Al was not blaming Ed, he was irritated that he was always apologizing to him. Not everything required apologies, especially multiple. He knew apologizing helped Ed feel better when he wasn’t sure how to approach his emotions, but it wasn't working right now. It only made him tweak out more when he didn't receive specific feedback. Al had no energy left to respond to his apologies adequately.
Alphonse was far too miserable to spare any of the energy he had left towards pulling Edward out of his thought spiral. And he was aware of himself enough to admit that he'd say something stupid out of frustration if he allowed this to continue. He hated losing his temper because it hindered his ability to listen and comprehend. You can't reason in the face of anger.
Edward on the other hand, took his words as just that— anger, subsequently blame. Guilt-ridden, he said nothing as they waited at the station. Al sensed his brother's hand weigh less against his shoulder, as if wary. Walking on eggshells, even. It really didn't suit him to be so meek, being the more confrontational brother.
The boys settled down on a bench, waiting for the hour that the train back would be arriving. Ed was still worried about the ride back, being as how sick Alphonse was already, not even mentioning that he suffered motion sickness terribly since getting his body back. He was seriously considering just booking somewhere local for the night.
The air was chilly. Noticing Alphonse sighing and relaxing against the back of the bench possibly out of relief, Ed frowned at the sight. "Before we get on the train... want me to remove your coat? We need to keep that fever down until I get you medicine." His brother nodded, his eyes opening to glance up at his face warmly. He felt more at ease, making eye contact and communicating wordlessly.
As he unbuttoned his brother's coat, he sighed. He hated seeing him this feeble and miserable more than he hated when Alphonse was mad at him. After all, he deserved to be resented for everything he put them through. For both at the same time, Ed felt like the sky was falling. Even if it wouldn’t be unfounded, the sting wouldn’t lessen. "I know you're annoyed with me, but... be honest. Are you—"
"...Mad at you for leaving me?"
"Ah, yeah... that." Edward watched Al's expression as he shrugged off the coat. Underneath the coat was his white shirt and black vest. He looked... utterly miserable. But unmistakably, he was also smiling softly. Just having company was enough to make everything just a little bit more bearable.
"Not really... I was scared, but... not mad at you at all." Al mumbled, suddenly leaning against Ed. The older of the two could feel Al's fever even through all his own layers. "I didn't wanna tell you, cause... Well, you were so... excited. To see everyone." Ed bit his tongue, waiting. "It's not your fault for not knowing... I didn't want you to know because you’d worry."
Edward couldn't help but interject on that front. "I should have stayed with you or interfered, you're literally burning up, Al. I should've—"
Alphonse hiccuped into the other's shoulder, pausing. He fully intended on not puking any more today, though deep down he knew it wouldn’t be the last time. He’d prefer to stall as much as possible in favor of savoring what little energy he had left for the exhausting train ride back. "... Should've never come? Hm?"
"...That's right," Ed was interrupted. "You're so difficult, brother..." Al's eyes flutter open briefly to watch for the train. "Just let me win this argument, just this one... Okay?" Edward turned to feel his brother's forehead, a frown prominent on his face as he examined him. Still on fire… "With that fever, you won't remember winning this argument anyway." He attempted to lighten up the conversation.
Al pondered for a moment before sighing. Thinking was too hard, between the throbbing of his head and the brain fog. "Probably not... but you'll remember. You never forget things like that... I trust you'll remember. So… don’t let me down, brother." A ghost of a smile crossed his exhausted features, reassuring Ed.
Al's hand gravitated towards Edward's, bumping his fist weakly against his, despite how much his arm trembled at the exertion. Such a minute task still consumed energy he hardly spared. The other boy chuckled. "Then I'll make up for abandoning you by remembering who won this debate." Ed bumped fists back. Alphonse huffed a laugh. "I'll let that slide... Deal?"
"Deal. Now let's go home so you can get some rest, in a bed this time."
Time dragged on in mostly silence, and Alphonse drifted off into a restless sleep fueled by exhaustion. Edward busied himself by thinking of every element and chemical that he memorized and whispered them to himself. He often did that to distract himself when he was under a lot of stress. A conductor in passing approached the two boys, noticing them waiting there. "Trains are delayed due to technical difficulties."
Edward looked up in disbelief. "Huh? By how long?" The man assumed a thinking pose. "...For the forseeable future." Ed cursed under his breath, but avoided making a scene in favor of letting Alphonse get some shut eye. "Thanks for the heads up." The man nodded and continued walking, explaining to other waiting future passengers.
Ed lightly brushed a hand against his brother's forehead. The other boy murmured softly and cracked open his eyes. "Mmmn... Brother...?" He smiled reassuringly and nodded. "Yeah, I'm still here." He faintly shivered despite the earlier complaint of being too warm.
"How much longer? I don't feel very..." He hiccuped. His arms tightened around his middle and he leaned into Ed again. Edward frowned, hesitant to break the news after seeing that spark of hope that he had woken Alphonse to board the train. But this was one of those inescapable truths. "So, Al... We need to book a room for tonight. Trains are delayed."
"......." He gazed down at Alphonse in response to the silence. Honestly, he looked on the brink of tears... or maybe on the brink of puking. It was actually quite a challenge to guess. "To be real with you for a second... I think you'd be even more miserable on the train if we left now." Al swallowed thickly and nodded slowly. "Maybe– hic– ugh… Maybe you’re right…"
"We'll head home whenever we’re ready tomorrow, but you need some time to recuperate before charging back into the fray." He patted his shoulder. Then silence. "...That also means we need to get going now before it gets dark." It took Alphonse a second to not only process, but realize he was being spoken to. He was in such a daze between the excessive tiredness and overwhelming nausea. "Oh... Yeah."
"On three. One... Two... Three."
He helped Alphonse stand, but to his surprise, at the same moment they both stood, Al all but projectile puked up some murky stomach contents with zero resistance. The muddy liquid splattered against the concrete. Edward grimaced in sympathy as his brother heaved weakly. He patted his back and glanced away, not too keen on contributing to the mess. "Yeah, you would actually die if we took the train right now."
Checking into a hotel was the hardest part, between supporting Alphonse and finding a place that wasn't booked. There came a point where Al couldn't walk much farther, feeling overwhelmingly lightheaded and weak with illness and dehydration setting in. Their final stop was made with Al on his back and praying that there was an open room.
Upon entering, the innkeeper lady smiled. "Hey, do you have any open rooms?" To the boys' relief, she nodded attentively. Her gaze switched between both of them at random. "Yes, we actually have a room available."
"Thank you so much..." He signed the room in and she handed him the keys. She kept stealing glances over his shoulder at Al, who kept quiet in favor of getting by as fast as possible by pretending to be asleep. If it were up to him, he’d rather be asleep for real. However, as Edward climbed the stairs with him on his back, he briefly stirred to view the surroundings and source of the movement. "Sorry if I'm jostling you around too much." He said between breaths. Alphonse only sighed. "It's fine... I hope I'm not too heavy."
As he'd anticipated, this made Edward walk up the (admittedly long) stairwell with newfound strength. When he reached the top, Al carefully stepped down and leant against Ed's shoulder, using his cane to also support himself.
"You said that to give me a second wind."
"Then... Thanks, Al." He chuckled at that.
The moment he unlocked the door to the designated room, he realized that he made a grave error. He didn't ask for the bed count. Alphonse noticed the way Ed all but deflated the moment he heard the door creak open. He kept his eyes closed to stop the world from spinning. Otherwise, he'd certainly fall. "Brother, what is it?"
"How do you feel about sharing a bed again after all these years?"
"Oh..." He unexpectedly brought a fist to his mouth and hiccuped. The two stepped inside, diverting paths as Alphonse escaped into the solace of the bathroom, gagging painfully and falling to his knees. Edward watched for a moment, hesitating. He approached his brother and leant against the doorframe. "Need anything?"
Catching a break from the unproductive heaving, he looked up. "Kinda doubt it'll be needed, but... my hair— mmph—" His mouth suddenly shut as he raised a finger to signal 'wait'. He muffled a warning gag and closed his eyes. A productive retch made his cheeks puff out and he buried his head into the bowl again. Ed grimaced as the mouthful of vomit landed in the water with a sickening splash.
"No, I get what you meant." The elder of the two kneeled behind him and gently eased the hair tie out of Alphonse's hair. He gathered the brownish-blonde hair and began to braid it. Unlike a ponytail, it would create less tension against his scalp and it would be more comfortable to sleep with. "All done."
"Thankyou..." Alphonse breathed, seeming to be done for the time being.
"You're not gonna like it, but we've gotta get some water in you or you'll shrivel up." Al groaned and plopped his head against the rim of the seat. "Can I at least shower first before you initiate my timely demise...? I don't wanna die feeling sweaty and dirty..."
“You’re not dying, Al. You’re just a bit sick, that’s all.” The look that Alphonse gave him could kill a man. Turning his head slowly, eyes watering and vomit still on his bottom lip. “...I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you say that to me.” Of course, it made Ed snicker. Al tiredly smiled and chuckled, then groaned. “But I still want a shower, man…”
"I don't know if a shower's the best plan right now, Al... You can barely stand, and I don't want your fever getting any higher." Ed tried reasoning. But Al stared up at him pitifully, clearly using his current condition as leverage against his brother. Something he knew he picked up from Winry, the puppy dog eyes. Even knowing that, Ed couldn't just say no.
"...Ugh, fine. On one condition."
The heat of the shower felt nice beating against his back. It was almost enough to help him forget that Edward was in there with him because he was too worried to let him shower alone. While part of him felt loved, the other part of him rejected being coddled so vehemently. These two sides of him were battling it out inside his pounding head, but he hardly noticed. Amidst his spacing out he nearly dozed off standing up.
With a slight jolt, his head snapped up after nodding off. “You good, Al?” He heard his brother ask. "Uh-huh, yeah. Feels nice.” He went back to washing his hair, taking brief pauses to rest his achy and shaking arms. His stomach had settled for the time being, but his headache felt worse.
Al’s head felt like it was stuffed with cotton or filled with a dense smog that clogged all of his senses. His face felt unbearably hot, despite the water running down his skin it felt dry. Dizzying heat enveloped his body and constricted his lungs, he felt like he was suffocating. The air was too heavy, too humid.
Ed briefly glanced back as his brother quietly cleaned his hair. The way Alphonse's spine still jutted out never failed to make Ed shiver.
That mortifying image of Al so emaciated still haunted him, but he saw progress. He was still spindly and bony, but no longer just a grotesque shell of his brother with diminished humanity. Though he was recovering, being sick like this would set him back a few days, needing to rest and all. Not only that, but his current predicament of being unable to hold anything down would certainly cause him to shed weight he really can't afford to lose.
One of Alphonse's knees bent and he crumpled down to the linoleum tiles. Ed only had a few second window to dive in to catch his brother by the shoulder and support his head. "'M sorry." Al mumbled between laborious breaths. His face was flushed, he was definitely overheating.
"Yup, shower time's over." Ed reached one hand up to turn the water off. He helped his brother lean against the walls of the shower. Brandishing a towel, he draped it over Alphonse's shoulders. He looked so small. He opened the washroom door to vent out some of the steam. “Lay me down.” Al mumbled. Hesitantly, Edward complied, familiar with this request. He gently lowered Al to lay flat on the floor, eyes closed and breathing slowing.
“Thank you.” He whispered, taking a deep breath in. Breathing was still hard, with the humidity caused by the steam making the air feel so thick you could chew it. Ed stood to dry off and wrap a towel around himself, but was wary to leave his brother unattended in the scenario he loses consciousness or attempts to stand while his back is turned.
“You can go… get dressed. ‘M staying here till the room stops spinning…” Alphonse sighed. The elder of the brothers also sighed. “Alright. Let me know when you’re good to stand up.”
"Shit. We don't have any other clothes."
"'T's fine..." Edward turned his head towards the doorway and frowned at how out of it Alphonse was looking. He laid there for a good few minutes, by now Ed had finished putting his clothes back on and awaited his word. “Think I’m ready now.”
“Alright.” He stood and walked over to the washroom, kneeling and helping Alphonse sit up. “One, two, three. Up.” He kept an arm around his waist to support him as he walked him over to the edge of the bed, to which Al flopped on his back on the bed.
"Can I have my shirt 'n pants...?" He huffed a small laugh and nodded. "Course. Just take another minute to cool off first, 'kay Al?" He looked back at his brother, who was laid back flat across the bed. Ed picked up the clothes haphazardly laying on the floor, like a trail of breadcrumbs almost. He then carried them to Al in the crook of his arm.
When Alphonse did sit up, he was muffling a weak burp behind his hand, abrupt and urgent enough to warrant a fight or flight response from Ed. "Woah, hold on." Ed reached for the small wastebasket by the door and held it under his brother's chin. Al coughed into it, and then nothing else happened.
Alphonse belched over the receptacle and shuddered with disgust. He then placed a shaky hand on the rim of the wastebasket, lowering the container. "...Sorry– false alarm."
"No sorries out of you. And while you're upright, let's get dressed, a’ight?" Edward urged him, noting how he shivered so violently as the air hit his skin. His temperature regulation was poor at best, and the last thing he needed right now was for his temperature to jump up and down and serve to make him even more miserable. He could tell that Alphonse was in delirium already, only worsened by the hot shower. Any longer and he’d be suffering from heat exhaustion too.
Alphonse was able to dress himself fine, all Ed did was tidy up their space some. When the younger brother was done changing into what he opted to just be his shirt and boxers, he shuffled under the covers to escape the chilled air and pull the duvet over himself, curling up. The effort of fiddling with the belt to his slacks was too much at the moment.
When Edward returned from putting away the towels, he paused in his tracks when he noticed his brother curled up and trying to sleep. With just his head poking out from behind the blankets and his wet hair splayed across the pillow and sticking to his face. Ideally, he would've liked to braid his hair again before he laid down to minimize knots, but he didn't have the heart to disturb him.
A thought occurred to him, with their departure being delayed until further notice, Edward needed to call Granny and Winry to alert them. After briefly pausing to tie up his hair, he quietly creaked the door open. “Be right back, Al. Gotta call home.” His voice was hardly above a whisper as he said so sadly, closing the door behind him and shoving the key in his pants pocket.
He dialed the number at the payphone and anxiously waited, the tone stuck in his head long after Winry picked up. He had spaced out. “Rockbell residence. … Hello?”
He snapped out of his trance. “Oh. Hi, Winry.” He cleared his throat after hearing how soft his voice sounded. “I heard that trains got delayed earlier. They’re still not running?” Ed’s silence must have been telling, because she paused and asked another question, this time her voice was tense. “Is everything okay? Don’t tell me you’ve gotten yourselves into trouble, even after everything…”
“Yeah, about that… Had to book a room until tomorrow. Al’s pretty sick.” A beat of silence followed his statement. “Is it bad?”
He had to think about it, because Al really looked miserable, but ‘bad’ is usually used to constitute ‘needing immediate medical attention’. Al was in bad shape, yes, but not in a dangerous state. A doctor wasn’t a bad idea, though… “He’s not well enough to travel right now.” Edward said. “He’s been throwing up since earlier, and has a fever, not sure how high.”
“I see.” The tone of her voice was one of unease. “Keep him hydrated and focus on lowering his temperature, cool compresses work just fine.” She explained. Seemed easy enough, most of it he already knew how to do. Although, having Winry saying the same thing gave him the confirmation that it was the right thing to be doing. “Got it–”
“No blood or anything, right?”
“Not that I noticed. Thankfully.”
“Alright. Doing those things should hold him over until you’re both back, since I don’t imagine you have medicine or the money on your person for a doctor.” Edward sighed defeatedly. “Nope. Hardly.”
“Sleeping, I think. Earlier he finessed me into letting him shower and he almost passed out. It was a good thing I refused to let him alone.” He then sighed. “Am I being… too protective?”
“Hmm,” Winry chimed. The silence had Edward bracing for something. “You always are, but I think this time, your intuition was right on the money.” Hearing that made his heart ache just a bit, knowing he had abandoned Alphonse just hours earlier in his condition. “Your concern is definitely not unfounded. And you know he’s more reasonable than both of us put together. He understands, I know it.”
He paused. “I should get back to him.”
“Yeah, you should go do that.” She said, admittedly worried. After all, they lost him once, for anything to happen to him again would shatter him and Winry. “Please call before you take the train back, I want to be there at the station when you’re back. I wanna accompany you to visit a doctor if he isn’t any better.” Ed was actually glad to hear that, undoubtedly he’d be exhausted by the time they returned (not that he was worried about himself).
“Yeah, I will…” He paused, and the two were in silence for a moment, both hesitating to say the same thing. “Love you.” His face heated up as he said it and his hand trembled slightly, he was resisting the urge to hang up before he could hear her response. She, too, hesitated. It was hard for both of them to get used to the whole ‘being in love’ thing. “Love you too. Bye.”
“Bye.” He placed the phone back and exited the phone booth. Ed walked back inside, waving to the receptionist and climbing the stairs, down the hall to the room he and Alphonse were in. He hesitated to open the door for a split second, but swallowed his worry and opened it, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He tiptoed to the other side of the bed and climbed in carefully, to which Alphonse just shifted and groaned, murmuring a greeting.
He still looked miserably sick and exhausted, under his eyes were dark and his face was flushed, twisted into a grimace of discomfort. Occasionally he would inconspicuously swallow and wince, making Edward wonder if his throat was sore along with everything else. On second thought, of course it was. It had to be, considering the violent retching over the course of what now had been a few hours.
He reached to turn off the lamp by the bed, hoping that Al could catch some shut-eye. Getting some sleep himself wouldn’t be so bad, either.
"Your leg keeps touching me... It's cold." Alphonse mumbled, his head still resting against his brother's back. Sometimes, Ed forgot about his automail leg, having it for so long that it felt more normal than a real one.
"Heh. Sorry, restless legs." Edward uttered in reply, pulling his knees more towards his chest. It didn’t help that his anxiety about Al’s current condition was also making him all fidgety. "I remember we always had to sleep separately because I would kick you so much that you always woke up with bruises. Remember that, Al?" He felt his brother nod against him.
"Mhmm..." Ed turned slightly to look back at him. Alphonse was quiet, laying still while pressed up against him. "Feeling sick again?" He thought about it for a moment before shrugging and shuffling closer. While his stomach felt unsettled and ached, it was tolerable so long as he stayed still. The subtle shivering of his body kept him on edge about it, though. "Not badly… but laying down helps a lot… Just cold all of a sudden."
"Huh. I wonder if you've got the flu. Maybe that shower was a bad idea." Edward took a pause before turning over to face his brother. To none of his surprise, Al looked no better (from what he could see in the darkness).
"No... it actually helped a little." The darker-blonde responded, laying flat like a pancake as though the weight of the atmosphere was crushing him like a hydraulic press. Ed placed one hand against his brother's cheek, all with a straight face. Alphonse shivered at the touch and shrunk into the warmth of the duvet. "Ah–! Your hand's freezing… Stop that."
"Still have a fever too." He removed his hand and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. In comparison to the sauna that was being under the covers with his feverish brother, he shuddered when the cool air of the room hit him. “That fever’s almost as stubborn as you are.”
"Pshh… Wait. Don't leave." Al murmured, curling up to preserve warmth. Unbeknownst to him, he was like a space heater on his own right now. "You're nice ‘n warm..." He continued tiredly, keeping his eyes closed not to disrupt the sleepiness overtaking his senses. Sleeping was hard for Alphonse, he lost the ability to sleep soundly even when getting his body back. After being incapable of sleeping for so long, you need to relearn, similarly to how Ed had to relearn how to write and walk after getting his automail.
They spent many sleepless nights together after the Promised Day, in part due to the immense trauma of it all and the events that transpired. Scared to face the light, to go outside, to enter the reformed world that they helped to save.
But damn, the world was beautiful when they had the strength to see it.
"Sorry, but you should drink some water before going to sleep. You'll feel even worse if you get dehydrated." Al opened his eyes a crack and watched Ed fill a paper cup from the tap and moaned as he buried his face in his pillow. The cups must be left by the coffee machines for those who actually drink the stuff. As he walked over to his side of the bed, Al laid completely still as a form of defiance. “I’ll get back in bed after you drink some. Deal?”
“Ugh, deal.” He grumbled, squinting up at him just to see a bit in the pitch darkness. The sun had fully set by now and the moonlight hardly cut through the clouds and the curtains. Ed chuckled at Alphonse’s hint of attitude. "Here, sit up a bit."
"If I get sick again it's your fault." Alphonse said with amplified drama, intending it to be a joke. However, he saw Edward's eyes go sad, even in the dim lighting. "...You're so sensitive sometimes, brother, I'm just kidding. I'll live."
Sitting up with the back of his head pressed against the headboard, he accepted the water and drank slowly. Drinking it soothed his throat and eradicated the sour taste stuck to his tongue, but feeling each mouthful of water plop against his stomach lining stirred it up again, little by little. Enough small ripples can make a tidal wave big enough to level a village.
"Heh, sorry. Still on my mind I guess." He watched tentatively and held out his hand as Al handed him the cup, only a few milliliters remained. "That's all I can do... it hurts." He sunk back down into the pillow and wrapped his arms around his middle. "It's okay. You did pretty good." Edward reassured him.
After a beat of silence, he shifted his head to gaze up at Ed, who was rounding the bed to climb in on his established side. "Strange question," Al cleared his throat, cringing at his own voice as it croaked against his raw and sore throat. However, the action of clearing his throat jostled his stomach. He winced as it sloshed uncomfortably, a bitter taste stinging the back of his throat, threatening to spill over like a teapot. "I didn't... ruin your day, did I?"
Ed slid into bed and turned to look at him, the faint clicking of his automail leg as he fidgeted restlessly. "No, you didn't ruin anything. My day would’ve been ruined if something terrible happened to you and I didn't show up in time. I could never have a bad day again knowing my little brother has his flesh body back."
"Oh... Okay. Cool." Al muttered, going rigid and lowering his head under the covers. Edward bit his cheek, taking notice of the shorter responses. Not wanting to prod too much, he just laid on his back with his face still towards his brother. Alphonse had his face scrunched up, eyes screwed shut tightly. That's when Ed knew he messed up again.
"Do you feel sick again?" He started to sit up, eyeing his younger brother in concern. Unexpectedly, Alphonse reached out to hold his wrist before Ed could even stand up.
"Don't." He jumped when Al grabbed his wrist. He still poured off heat like a furnace, and his hand was clammy and sweaty. "Just for a few minutes... stay here." He pleaded, still feeling too ill to open his eyes. "Please?" How could Edward say no? Telling his sick brother no was about as evil as kicking a puppy. It’s the same crime against humanity, only a different font.
Edward hesitated before relenting, just this once. He slid back under the covers with a sigh. "Okaaay. Just don't puke on me."
A huff in reply. "I'm not planning on it... So stop talking about it." Ed just grinned and settled back down on the bed. "Okay, okay. Just go to sleep and block me out till morning." His smile broadened when he saw Alphonse crack a smile and sigh. He still faintly shivered, his grasp loosening to nothing when he knew Edward wasn't going anywhere this time. He’d be staying with him where it was quiet and warm. Feeling peaceful.
"Al," He whispered, wary not to wake him if he did finally sleep— or slightly bashful in admitting his feelings toward his beloved family in the immediate vicinity of the subject of those emotions. Truly, they couldn't live without one another. It had always been Ed and Al, and especially in this moment, it felt like they never grew up. They were kids again, back when things were mundane, and things were still new. "I'm so happy I get to see you smile again."
It didn't matter if he heard him, because he knew already. The effort they gave going through the same back-breaking, soul-crushing, death-defying things together to restore their original bodies, for each other. Ultimately they would end up saving their world and everyone they hold dear, past, present, and future– they didn’t even need to tell each other those little things. Both brothers went through literal hell and back, and their trust never wavered even when their hearts or minds did.
All that mattered was that they were able to live normal lives again, together with their loved ones.