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“It’s gotten worse.”
“No, it can’t be! He has to pull through!”
“Why would he try to hide this from me?! He would never hide anything like this from me!”
“Please, just keep breathing.”
Edward lay in the bed, eyes shut, his mind reeling with all the things he had heard this week. Alphonse and Winry were beyond upset. Then again, he didn’t expect any less: he knew they would hate him for trying to hide this.
He lay there, his thin body barely making a lump under the sheets. His cheeks were hollow, his skin sickly pale, almost transparent in the light. Breathing was a struggle for him, but he forced his lungs to expand. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“He hasn’t eaten since yesterday morning,” he heard Alphonse murmur to Winry, “and he threw up afterwards.”
There was a pause before he felt someone take his hand. He pried his eyes open to see Winry holding his hand. “Hey.” she breathed, forcing a smile. “Are you feeling better?”
Ed knew that she knew the answer, that he probably wouldn’t last the night. But he forced out a somewhat cheerful response.
“Not really.” He said, his voice rough and ragged. “But don’t worry, I’ll pull through ok. It takes a lot to get rid of Fullmetal.” He gave Winry a smile and she chuckled softly, but she couldn’t hide her concern.
Ed breathed slowly. He should’ve told them. He should’ve told them from the day he knew, from the day that doctor gave him the diagnosis. He remembered how angry Alphonse was with him when he found out after he caught his brother throwing up blood. He could still hear him screaming.
“You knew?! You knew and you never told me?! Why would you do that?! We could’ve done something! You IDIOT!” Maybe he was right, he thought. Maybe they could’ve done something. No, no he did everything he could. He remembered what the doctor had told him once they knew—there was no cure yet and it was very rare for this illness to go into remission. There was nothing to do but enjoy his final moments.
“Alphonse..” he forced himself to wheeze out.
“Yes, brother?” He responded, timidly.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get your body back.” He breathed. “I broke my promise. You deserved more than what I did.”
“Don’t talk like that.” Al interjected
“You don’t deserve to be trapped in that body forever. It’s my fault that this is happening. I got you into this. You shouldn’t have had to pay the price.”
“Don’t talk like that!” Al repeated firmly. “You’re gonna get my body back, and yours too. You’re gonna make it.”
Winry brushed a hand over his forehead. By the look on her face, his fever hadn’t gone down. She quickly shook it off though.
“I’ll be right back.” She said stiffly, trying to hide the quiver in her voice. She stood and walked into the adjacent room.
Edward began to cough, starting off quietly then growing harsh and loud.
“Edward!” He saw Alphonse flinch as he doubled over and his fit became more violent, his hands pressed over his mouth, his whole body shaking. Al was at his side in an instant, rubbing his back, trying to steady him. Winry had reappeared, clutching a cloth, which was dripping with water, and looking at him in horror.
His fit finally let up and he fell backwards onto his pillow, dizzy and wheezing. He held is hand up to see it covered in blood. A drop fell onto the white sheets.
“Brother..” Alphonse muttered weakly, his voice breaking. Edward quickly dropped his hand off the side of the bed. He didn’t want Al to have to look at it.
Winry looked at him with sad, empathetic eyes. Alphonse hadn’t left his side since the coughing fit.
Edward’s chest heaved as he tried to breathe, the pain in his chest growing.
“Edward..” Winry squeaked, a tear rolling down her face. She grabbed Edward’s hand, blood squeezing out from how tight she was gripping it. “Brother.” Alphonse murmured. “Please, please breathe.”
Edward’s breathing slowed and his vision began to fail him as a blinding white light filled his vision. He fought it as best he could, he needed to stay, he couldn’t go now. But something caught his attention.
Edward’s hand went limp in Winry’s. She took in a shaky gasp. “Edward?”
“Brother?” Alphonse whispered, his voice breaking. Edward lay still. “Edward, no!” Alphonse shook his brother frantically. “Edward, please! Please wake up!”
The next few moments were a blur: Alphonse was screaming at Edward, begging for him to please stay, just stay for a little longer, and Winry sobbing uncontrollably at what had been lost. But as Winry stared at the body next to her, she couldn’t shake something she had heard as Edward slipped away. Just before he had stopped breathing, she could’ve sworn he had said, his voice barely a whisper:
“Mom...”