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Edward had to get out of there. He could feel pressure building up in his chest and throat, promising a coughing fit. It was coming soon and he could do nothing to stop it.
Despite this, he did his best to keep his composure as Mustang briefed him for his next mission with the military. He had kept his illness a secret for this long and he still didn’t plan on telling them just yet. He wasn’t sure how long he intended to keep it hidden, but that was the last thing on his mind now as the pressure in his chest grew more and more intense.
Mustang asked Ed a question; about what, he wasn’t sure, he couldn’t even listen anymore, he was so concerned with getting out of there as soon as possible. He quickly nodded, feigning attentiveness. He couldn’t even speak anymore, if he opened his mouth at all the, coughing fit could ensue. He could tell already this one was going to be bad. He was getting worse; he wasn’t able to keep food down anymore, along with the coughing fits becoming more and more intense. He’d already scared Alphonse last night after vomiting and coming down with a fever, he couldn’t deal with anyone else finding out. Not today, he begged, not today, please.
Just like that, the briefing was over. Edward quickly spun on his heel, ready to leave as fast as he could and duck into the nearest empty hallway until this was over.
“And Fullmetal?” Edward turned back to look at Mustang. “I advise you to get some rest. It’s becoming apparent that your work has been taking a toll on your health and we need all the men we can get for this mission, including you.” Edward, caught off guard by the comment, froze before quickly nodding, turning back around and heading for the office door.
But it was too late; he had taken too long. Just before he could leave, he let out a small cough. He tried to steady himself but it was no use, and he began coughing and hacking more violently than ever. He covered his mouth and tried to play it off as a mild occurrence, but it was much worse than he thought it was. He was much more accustomed to these symptoms while they were new to everyone else, and they could see how serious it was.
“Fullmetal?!” Mustang rushed over as Edward doubled over, sinking to his knees, one hand pressed tightly over his mouth, the other pressed against his chest. The pain was unbearable, his chest was burning and his throat was raw. Edward silently begged for it to stop, please just let it stop.
“We need some help in here, now!” Mustang yelled as other soldiers began coming in to see what the commotion was, surprised to see Mustang trying to steady Edward, who was doubled over with blood visible on his glove as he coughed violently.
“Don’t just stand there, call for a doctor!” Mustang ordered as Edward continued to cough.
The fit finally let up. Edward pulled his hand away, gasping for breath, to see it covered in more blood than usual, to the point where it was dripping from his red stained glove. His chest ached so much he could barely breathe, his head was spinning and his vision was failing him. He couldn’t keep himself upright and he slumped onto his side. He shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself; god, why was he so cold all of a sudden? Oh god, he thought. Is this where I die? He thought it not the best place, in Colonel Mustang’s office, on the floor with him beside him, talking with him in an effort to keep him awake as other soldiers panicked and tried to get help. But he figured there was nothing he could do about it.
“Brother!”
He looked up to see a large figure, blurred by his failing vision, running towards him as the sound of metal clanking against the tile floor grew closer and closer. Edward didn’t even need to think twice about who it was, the fact that his little brother now had to see him on the floor and violently sick made his stomach drop.
Alphonse quickly picked his brother up, the only thing he could think to do. “Edward, just look at me! Just try to stay awake!”
He lay there, breathing ragged and labored, head resting against his brothers metal chest as the military panicked around them.
“Why the hell would you two keep this hidden?! Do you realize how serious this is?! Does HE realize how serious this is?!” Edward could vaguely hear Mustang outside his door, exploding at Alphonse for not saying something when he knew. If he had the strength to stand, he’d march out that door and punch Mustang for treating his brother like that.
He could hear Al timidly explaining that this was all Edward’s decision, that he was the one who told him not to say anything, before Mustang erupted again, saying he still should’ve told the military so they at least knew to take it easier on Ed when giving him missions.
He was half thankful and half ashamed to still be alive. If he had died then and there, Al wouldn’t have to see him like this: emaciated and pale, stuck in a bed, living out his last moments. This was the exact treatment he wanted to avoid giving his loved ones, and now here he was, being forced to live out the nightmare of them seeing him waste away.
The conversation outside suddenly ceased and Al came in and shut the door quietly. Ed couldn’t find the strength to open his eyes or greet him, he just lay there as though he was sleeping.
He heard metal scraping wood as Alphonse slid to the floor and started sobbing quietly, making Edward’s heart sink. Wasn’t his little brother seeing one loved one die like this enough?
“Alphonse...” Ed muttered weakly. “Brother?” Al responded, softly. “I’m so sorry, Al.” Ed whispered as a tear rolled down his face. “I’m so so sorry.”