Oh, look!

I wrote a sequel!

At 1:30 AM!

WeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeee!111!

Anyways, as the description suggests, this is (will be) a two-shot continuation of my one-shot "Submersion." (It was originally going to be a one-shot but it just got longer and longer and I decided to split it into two parts). I was on the fence about writing a sequel, but after Ranowa AND Akarri (the Sempai of Parental!Royed for those of you living caves... like me... because I'm a Missourian) reviewed it, it was quite clear the decision was made for me.

I am fulfilling my duty as the Adoring Fan from Oblivion and writing my Grand Champions a story they didn't ask for.

Why am I posting this in the middle of the night (early morning) on a Sunday (Monday), you ask?

Because I'm getting my wisdom teeth out tomorrow and I'm super nervous and I can't sleep.

That is why.

I also got an Ao3 account now, so... yeah. Just so ya know.

This two-shot is based on this past summer, when I got bronchitis and parvo back to back.

And you'll never guess what happened while I was finishing this chapter.

I GOT SICK AGAIN!

I HAVEN'T BEEN SICK THIS OFTEN SINCE I HAD TOXIC MEGACOLON WHEN I WAS 4!

Obligatory biologist warning, this story may (will) contain details that may (will) be found disgusting by some readers... I'll shut up now.

Roy woke to the sound of coughing.

Who's coughing, he couldn't be sure, because his own throat was raw and his lungs burned. When the itching in his chest faded well enough for him to swallow the spit that pooled in his mouth, he used his hospital sheet to wipe the drool that had spilled down his chin.

In the dark room, he could hear panting and gulping other than his own.

"Fullmetal… are you all right?"

He didn't receive an answer, only the creaking of the bed and rustling of linen as Edward settled back onto his cot.

"Fullmetal –"

"'m fine, Colonel. 'm tryna sleep."

"You don't sound fine."

"Neither do you, so shut up."

Mustang shut up.

As awful as his major seemed to be feeling, he couldn't deny that he didn't feel much better. He felt a massive headache smoldering on his forehead and was glad the lights were out. Roy shivered involuntarily, wondering why the room was so cold, and pulled his blanket over himself.

Despite his discomfort, he fell asleep immediately.

XXX

The lights blinded him through his closed eyes but he was too drowsy to do more than grunt in annoyance. He heard Fullmetal whine pathetically, a whine that broke into coughing.

His sheets were sticking to him and his body was vibrating in a bizarre, hard way, like all of his muscles had cramped up at once.

A soft hand touched his shoulder and he instinctively opened his eyes to see a nurse standing over him. She smiled pleasantly, but Roy could see her concern as her eyes studied him.

"Good morning, sir. I hate to wake you, but I was wondering if you would like some breakfast –"

"Screw off."

Normally, Mustang would have been mortified at his major's behavior.

Normally, Mustang wouldn't be agreeing with him.

"I'm afraid Fullmetal and I aren't feeling well this morning." Roy's voice sounded like he'd swallowed a cactus. "Perhaps you could come back later?"

"Perhaps you could come back never?"

The nurse smiled so beatifically; an outsider might have thought Roy had asked her to tea. The woman may have been a mind-reader as well as a nurse, because she answered with, "I'm sorry to hear that. Perhaps I could offer you a hot drink? We have tea and hot chocolate."

Mustang gave her the brightest smile he could manage, which was probably that of a lamp burning the last of its oil.

"I would very much appreciate a cup of tea. Cream and sugar, if you don't mind."

The nurse nodded dutifully, still smiling, and glanced toward the matt of messy yellow hair sprouting from a lump of blankets.

"And for you, sir?"

Edward took so long to answer that Roy began to think that he wouldn't at all, but eventually he mumbled beneath the blankets, "Got whipped cream?"

"Yes, we do."

The lump shifted, and an equally yellow eye peeked out from a window made from a lifted corner of sheet.

"Hot chocolate? With whipped cream?"

Mustang noticed the question rather than a demand. The nurse seemed to notice too and her smile widened. "I'll be right back with some." She stopped to turn out the lights before leaving the room.

Without so much as a hint of gratitude, the sheet dropped and Edward's hair slunk underneath as he curled into his bed.

XXX

The tea burned his throat in a glorious, allaying away; like it was scalding away the slime that was dripping down his throat and making his esophagus swell. He nursed it tenderly, savoring every soothing swallow, and listening as Edward slurped his own drink.

For Edward, the milk in the cocoa actually thickened the sludge in his throat, but it did make it easier to swallow, and so relieved the irritation that way. He got cream on his nose, which he licked off like a cat, swiping his tongue over his face as best he could. When the cup was empty, he set it on the table that separated his bed from the colonel's, then rolled over and closed his eyes.

He hadn't been particularly thirsty, but the thought of something hot and sweet had been strangely alluring. Perhaps it was because of the odd taste in the back of his mouth and the cold in his muscles. Mustang also set his drained mug on the table but stared at the ceiling for a minute before closing his eyes. Just like anyone else with common sense, Roy loathed being sick, but he did appreciate the freedom from work it provided. If only he felt up to enjoying it, he thought as he involuntarily slipped into unconsciousness.

XXX

Roy woke to the feeling of something cold being pressed against his back.

"Well, it ain't any more than what I expected. Still, though," the cold was removed and his blanket pulled over him, "best keep an eye on 'em. If it gets to their lungs, it'll get their fast, and it'll only get crummy from there."

Mustang recognized the voice of the doctor from the previous night – the man who looked strikingly like the fickle Pelznickel Roy heard stories about when he was younger than Fullmetal.

"Should I get them some breakfast? I asked earlier and they said they weren't hungry."

The nurse from before. She was a pretty thing, he wondered what her favorite diner was…

"No. If they don't wanna eat, it's 'cause food would be a knot in their nets right now. Best let 'em sleep. Best thing for 'em."

In the background of the doctor's voice had been Edward's soft, wheezy snoring. As if he had been waiting politely for "Pelznickel" to finish speaking, Ed's breath hitched and he started coughing. The sound was dry and rattling, like his lungs had dried up and were being shaken around inside him. The mental picture made Roy cringe.

"Well, sleep and that."

Edward had been hiding beneath his covers from the sunlight pouring in from the window, but his fit of coughing made the stuffy air turn thin. He pushed the blankets away, sucking in a breath as the cool air touched his face. He sucked in a breath and it was immediately crushed out of him by his ribs.

Strong, leathery hands slipped under his back and forced him into a sitting position. The shift made his head spin and the slag in his lungs slosh. If the doctor had been trying to help, Ed thought as he struggled to not to suffocate, he was not succeeding. As if sensing his thoughts, the man started pounding Ed on the back. Not the soft, reassuring way he had the other night; roughly and solidly, hard enough to make Edward's skin sting.

When his throat closed up, "Pelznickel" pressed a cloth over his mouth, which made it even more difficult to breathe, and Ed began to wonder if the doctor was trying to kill him when he gagged and finally managed to cough up the ball of slime his body had been fighting to expel.

The cloth was taken away, and Edward took a deep breath – a full, clear breath, as much as it chagrined him to admit.

"Nope. Just as I thought," "Pelznickel" hummed as he folded up the cloth and gave it to the nurse, who wrapped it in a handkerchief (the reason for keeping his phlegm was beyond Edward). "Clear as water. I suspect they're cookin' the germs before they can turn peaky." He glanced where Roy had taken to blink hazily at the ceiling, his eyes glassy and dull. "Well, more 'n they already is."

"Pelznickel" decided it would be best if Mustang was sitting up as well. This, unsurprisingly, had the same effect on the colonel as it did on the major, and soon Roy was sitting and sweaty and the doctor was studying a smear of Mustang's mucus, and gave the same judgment as Ed's.

"Better let them keep resting. We should make sure they drink something later," Roy heard the doctor say as he left with the nurse, closing the door quietly behind them.

They left Roy and Edward leaning against thrones of pillows, the sheets pulled up to their chins. Ed was already snoring, his head sagging against his shoulder.

XXX

Roy hadn't thought he would be able to sleep with the noise Edward was making, but he was all but dead when Alphonse snuck in, closing the door and moving to stand by his brother's bed as quietly as he could.

Al set the books he had promised Ed the night before on the table and studied his brother. The nurse had told him it hadn't been anything less than what they had expected, but that didn't stop Al from worrying.

Ed was gargling in his sleep.

Al could only hear it because of how close he was close he was and he wondered if the colonel was making a similar sound.

He stood there for a few minutes, unsure of whether to stay or go. He didn't want to wake his brother, but he didn't want to leave in case Edward woke up on his own. He was beginning to consider finding Ed something to eat (the nurse had mentioned that neither he nor the colonel had had breakfast), when the colonel gasped and started to choke.

Al turned to him, instinctively wondering how he could help, and only feeling awkward when he realized he couldn't. When the episode subsided, Roy regained his breath with a wheezing sigh, and looked up reflexively to see Alphonse standing before him, gauntlets outstretched as if to catch Mustang should the man choose to leap into the air.

Roy found himself not at all surprised to see him.

"Alphonse," he greeted tersely, then diminished to panting as if the one word had drained him.

"Good morning, Colonel. How are you feeling?" The question was a mannerism only, Roy's tousled hair and sunken eyes were enough to tell anyone the state of Roy's condition. Roy answered anyway.

"Better than I have before, but not as well as I would like."

Al was silent for a minute.

"How is Brother?"

"The doctor said it wasn't anything more than what he expected."

"Oh. So, he's probably cranky, then."

Roy thought to laugh at the understatement. He settled for an exhausted huff.

They sat in quiet for a few minutes, Alphonse not knowing what to say and Roy not having the energy to say anything. His chest felt heavy, like he had fallen asleep reading a large book and it's full weight had come to rest over his heart. Breathing was oddly more difficult than he remembered it, he seemed to have to concentrate on sucking in air in order to take a full breath.

"Alphonse, could you do me a favor?"

The armor's helmet perked up at the prospect of something to do.

"Yes, sir? What can I get you?"

"Could you open the window for me? The air in here is a bit stale."

"Of course, colonel."

Crisp, spring wind flowed into the room the moment the pane was lifted, the starch of it shocking Roy's lungs with a bizarre sensation he could only describe as wakefulness.

"Thank you, Alphonse."

"It was no problem, sir."

They fell into peaceful silence again and Mustang found his eyes sliding shut, sleep coming hard and fast now that he no longer had to think about breathing. Al noticed this but said nothing, choosing instead to sit on the floor next to his brother's cot and open one of the books he had brought with him.

Roy fell asleep to birdsong and the turning of pages.

XXX

He was drowning.

His mouth was open and his throat convulsed, gulping like a fish as he struggled to pull in sweet, precious air, but there was only water. It shoved its way into his lungs, into his body, pulling him down, making him his own lodestone, and he sunk lower, lower, to the dark, dark bottom…

There was no bottom.

The light vanished and the dark kept coming and the weight of the river kept crushing, even when he thought it should have reached its limit.

He wondered if there even was a limit.

He wondered if this was death, an infinite vacuum that just pulled and took, forever and after that.

He needed air.

He needed…

"Brother!"

He…

"Brother, wake up! Please, talk to me!"

He needed Alphonse.

And there was Alphonse.

Al's gauntlets were gripping Ed's shoulders, squeezing nearly hard enough to hurt, the boy desperately wanting to shake his brother out of whatever gurgling, hawking paroxysm he was having but too afraid of what the consequences might be.

Edward's hands snapped up and grasped Al's wrists, holding on for dear life and hoping Alphonse would pull him free of undertow he had been caught in.

It wasn't working.

"Brother?! What's wrong?! What's –"

There was a draft. He could feel it on his face.

With a strength only panic can give, Ed yanked himself off the bed, using Alphonse's arms as leverage, and staggered, blind with desperation, towards the wind, towards the air, towards…

Edward stuck his head out the window and gasped.

He gasped and coughed, his mouth filling with the taste of trees and car exhaust and rain, and he gobbled it like it was Granny's stew.

Mustang had come awake at the racket, and almost immediately forgot what had woken him as the pain swamped him.

There were knives in his ribs and they were shredding his lungs to pieces with every breath, letting the oxygen leak out like torn balloons. Breathing deeper did not help, only drove the daggers home, and not for the first time in his life, Roy Mustang thought he was dying.

His eyes opened out of instinct, frantically searching for salvation.

He saw Fullmetal leaning out the open window, breathing with so raggedly he could have been weeping. He lunged forward so that he stood on all fours and crawled like a child across the bed, his feet thudding on the floor when he reached the end.

"Fullmetal," he rasped, the name needles in his throat.

The boy glanced out of the corner of his eye but showed no other sign that he had heard.

"Move."

Then Alphonse was staring, frightened and confused, as his brother and his brother's commanding officer stood side by side, bent over a windowsill three stories up, and panted at the street below.

He had just enough sense left to tug on the chord to call for a nurse.

XXX

The door unlatched casually, then swung open with urgency as the doctor saw why he had been paged.

"What are you two doing?!" the nurse half-shrieked and trotted across the room to pull Edward away from the window.

"Don't move them." The doctor's order was a rumble and the nurse froze in place.

"Pelznickel" walked calmly towards the window, his face impassive and his movements sure. Without so much as a by-your-leave, he lifted Edward's hospital shirt and pressed his stem to the boy's back. He listened for a quarter of a minute before he pulled the earpieces out.

"Get a catheter and jar."

The nurse nodded, understanding what was far too little for Alphonse to find any meaning, and made quick work of going back the way she'd come.

"Wait."

The nurse stopped.

The doctor looked up from monitoring Mustang's breathing.

"Get two."

She nodded and walked out briskly, her shoes clacking on the floor.

"What's happening to them? What's wrong?!" Al wanted desperately to hold his brother, if only by the shoulders, as if he could somehow transfer some of his immortal invincibility into Edward's quaking body.

"There's dropsy 'round their lungs. It needs to come out before they go even."

"Pelznickel" had traded his stethoscope for his fingers, pressing his index and third against Edward's neck, counting silently to himself, then moving on to Mustang. Neither of them seemed to notice or care. Alphonse watched, nearly trembling with nerves he did not have and absent-mindedly wringing his gauntlets.

"I… I'm sorry, I don't understand. What's 'dropsy?' And what does 'going even' mean?"

The sound of wheels and high heels announced the nurse's swift return, along with a cart bearing what looked like pairs of tubes, empty jars that may have been made to hold something like pickled vegetables, and uncomfortably long needles.

She saw Al staring at the paraphernalia and understood the question she had missed.

"There's fluid building up around their lungs. If we don't drain it, their lungs could collapse, and then we'd have a real problem."

"Collapse? Their lungs will fall down?!"

Al could have sworn he saw the corners of the nurse's mouth quirk upwards in an amused smile, but if he had, she had quickly caught herself.

"No. There won't be enough room for their lungs to expand and that could put them in respiratory distress."

"But that won't happen because we're gonna take care of 'em," "Pelznickel" assured the metal boy with an odd smile that somehow made Alphonse believe him.

XXX

The doctor didn't waste any more time.

Edward felt the man's hands grip him under the arms and pull him away from the window, away from the air, away from salvation.

He was drowning again.

Ed managed a grunt, of pain or fear or simply of protest, and snapped his fingers on the windowsill, refusing to let go and trying to pull himself back. With a strength a man so old should not have, "Pelznickel" yanked Edward into the room, and Edward reflexively released his hold when the edge of the windowsill cut into his skin.

"I know, son, but I can't have you bent like that. You ain't doin' yourself any favors. Okay," the doctor huffed as he pulled his patient into a somewhat standing position and started guiding him towards the bed, "if you would get the colonel, Eliza."

The nurse hooked an arm around Roy's elbow, as if they were dancers entering a ballroom, and began leading him away from the window. Mustang went considerably more docilely than his subordinate.

Both Roy and Edward saw the cart the nurse had brought in.

Edward saw the needles, long enough to spit a chicken.

Roy saw Edward's empty eyes come to life.

Alphonse realized their mistake too late.

"Brother – !"

"Fullmetal – !"

In hindsight, the attention they should have sought was "Pelznickel's."

It didn't seem to matter, though, because the doctor heard the warning they did not say and lifted Edward, pulling his feet from the floor and turning him in his arms so that the small, lithe body was pressed against his broad, heavy one; in a movement with a deftness that can only be built up from years of handling children of myriad ages. Ed had emitted a raucous cry that reminded Mustang of a crow's death rattle (though he had never personally heard such a thing) and started flailing and snarling in the man's grasp. He clawed at the doctor's back and tried to shove his knees into the man's gut, despite the fact that his right hand had no nails and "Pelznickel" was too wide around for his legs to do much but squirm.

If Edward's manic beating and snarling caused the doctor any pain, he did not show it. He simply continued on his way, waddling in a way that was somehow completely dignified, and sat Fullmetal on the bed as gently as if he was made of porcelain. Alphonse had considered relieving the man of his brother, but decided against it, fearing Edward would hurt himself fighting Al's metal skin.

It had happened before.

As soon as he felt the arms around him loosen, Ed launched himself forward like a cat from a crate. This time Alphonse did catch him, but Edward did not fight him. He had barely taken a breath throughout his panic and black smudges burst over his vision and he convulsed so violently that Al quickly returned him to the bed to keep from dropping him.

Mustang watched as his major started turning purple.

"Fullmetal!"

He let go of Eliza, nearly stumbled at the dizziness that swamped him, was caught by Eliza and guided towards Edward, though he was almost pulling the nurse behind him in his haste.

"Pelznickel" worked with close to preternatural efficiency, shoving pillows beneath Ed's chest to tilt him upright and then pounding on his back ferociously, so much so that Alphonse cried out at the sound.

Roy wasn't sure what he was planning on doing when he reached Fullmetal's side. What he ended up doing was squeezing the boy's left shoulder, his other hand bracing himself against the mattress as his knees wobbled.

He didn't even notice his own coughing until the nurse shoved a cloth against his mouth.

When Edward's choking morphed from a dry scratching to a wet bubbling, "Pelznickel" pulled a cloth square of his own from his pocket and managed to get it over Ed's face in time to catch the phlegm that came up. The expulsion did not seem to help his breathing, he had shifted from coughing to sucking in mouthfuls of air. Mustang came close to toppling when he succeeded in spitting up whatever his clogging his windpipe, his grip on Fullmetal and the nurse standing behind him were all that kept him upright. Alphonse was unable to hold back his noise of disgust.

"His sputum's turned opaque," Eliza stated nonchalantly as she examined Mustang's expectorate.

"Pelznickel" glanced at Ed's sample for handing it off to the nurse as well.

"There's blood in that one. Tell the pharmacy we need two bags of 'cillin and a couple tanks of O-two."

Al wished he knew what any of that meant (besides the request for oxygen) as the nurse briskly walked out of the room, still holding the soiled cloths and her face tight.

"I'm gonna need your help for this, son."

It Alphonse a moment to understand that "Pelznickel" was talking to him.

"Oh… okay… what do I…"

The doctor pulled Edward's shirt up and Ed made a winded "Eee!" noise at the sudden cold and indecency.

"I need you to wet some gauze with alcohol. Should be a little bottle of it," he said, dipping his head towards the cart. "Pelznickel" donned his stethoscope and started moving the stem between Edward's shoulder blades. Finding what he was looking for, he placed a hand just beneath Ed's left scapula and used his other hand to accept the swatch of gauze that Alphonse offered him.

At the tell-tale coldness of the doctor wiping his skin with the wet cotton, Edward's eyes bulged from his face and his struggles began anew. He tried to kick against the mattress and flung his arms out, perhaps trying to grab the railing that was the closest thing the bed had to a headboard. He didn't accomplish much, as exhausted and breathless as he was, but even so Roy tightened his grip on Ed's shoulder.

"Fullmetal… listen to me –"

"No."

The protest had little bite to it but held firm in its bluntness.

"Brother, we're just trying to help you –"

"No."

"Fullmetal, this is – waah!"

That got Ed to stop.

Roy Mustang was looking quite confused and slightly disturbed as his own shirt was lifted to his neck and a metal circle started searching his back.

"What did you expect?" "Pelznickel" took a second saturated strip of gauze from Al's offering gauntlet and swiped it over the colonel's skin, making the man shiver. "You ain't that much better than he is. The boy swallowed more water'n you but it were the same water. Okay – ah, perfect as usual, Eliza."

The nurse reentered the room, making sure to close it on her way in.

"The pharmacy's got the order. They're putting it together now."

"Good, good. Be a dear and set up that kit 'n kabootle, this stuff'll need time to set."

Upon finishing his sentence, Ed felt the familiar, dreaded prick of a needle.

He opened his mouth to cry out, to swear, to something –

He settled on "Eew" as the numbing agent turned a patch of his back into pins.

"That wasn't so bad, was it Brother?"

Ed didn't answer.

He was too busy watching the colonel wince and shudder as he received his own dosage of anesthetic. Edward did not think he had ever seen his commanding officer show discomfort before, save for him shivering like a drowned kitten after their dip in the canal. For some reason, Ed did not like it. It reminded of him vaguely of seeing his strong-willed mother lying in bed with a wet towel over her eyes to stifle her migraines.

The thought made Ed look at the wall and appreciate its lack of expression.

"Wait… what are you –"

Alphonse's question and shocked cry was all the warning Edward got before he felt something punch him in the back. He grunted with the impact and instinctively lifted his torso and turned his head to see what in the hell had just happened –

Oh.

Oh God.

"Pelznickel" had been too preoccupied with stabbing the colonel with an elongated needle of his own to properly notice what Edward was doing.

Roy had been too horrified by watching the doctor pierce his major to properly notice what the man had been doing until he felt the pressure of something slicing through his flesh.

Alphonse had been too flabbergasted by what had just happened to do much of anything.

They all noticed Edward frantically reach over his left shoulder with his automail hand to pull the needle and tubing out of his back.

They all moved to stop him.

They needn't have, because Edward was stopped by the sight of strawberry milk flowing out of his body, through the tubing, and collecting in the connecting jar.

Ed fainted.

XXX

Roy had somehow, through sheer willpower or simple inattention, not let go of Fullmetal's shoulder. It was because of this the boy did not roll off his stack of pillows and onto his perforated side.

Ed's skin was shiny with sweat and he was visibly trembling, but Mustang wasn't sure how much of it was because of shock or general illness.

Perhaps it was both.

"Pelznickel" pressed two fingers to the vein in Edward's neck, counted to fifteen, and pulled his hand away calmly.

"His blood pressure slumped, but he's dandy… well, mostly." He looked up in time to see that Mustang's face had turned the color of a chicken's egg and wetness had sprouted on his brow. Eliza grabbed him a chair (the only one in the room) and quickly placed it under him and coaxed him to sit. Roy breathed shallowly and shakily and buried his head in his arm, the other one still gripping Fullmetal.

"What… what's happening?" Al finally found his voice. "What is… what is that? In the jars? Coming out of them?"

"Pleural fluid," the nurse answered plainly. "It's turned white because of infection. Basically, their bodies have been fighting off an infection in and around their lungs, and that's caused the fluid around their lungs to swell with white blood cells and bacteria. It's not that different than popping a blister."

Mustang made a noise that may have been a smothered moan and quivered as if he'd been touched by a ghost. He loathed to admit it, but seeing… that… had left him squeamish. In a backwards sort of way, he envied Fullmetal in his unconsciousness.

"How long is this supposed to take?"

He was also grateful to Alphonse for asking the questions he didn't have the strength to voice.

"No more 'n ten cracks, I'd wager," "Pelznickel" hummed, brushing Edward's bangs away from his forehead as the boy began to stir.

"This shouldn't take longer than fifteen minutes," Eliza translated without prompt.

Ed made a curious squeaking sound as his eyes blinked open and he stared forward blearily. He thought he saw an old man with a white beard slip a pillow under Roy Mustang's head, so that the colonel's apparently sleeping face was towards him.

Why was Colonel Bastard sleeping in his bed?

On his bed?

On his bedside?

His head hurt. Thinking was exhausting, so much so that he found himself only thinking about thinking and how exhausting it was. Familiar, leather fingers caressed his neck.

"Go to sleep, Brother."

Edward was too tired to think about whether or not that was a good idea.

XXX

His coughing woke him.

This seemed to be becoming routine.

Involuntarily, he took a deep breath – a deep, whooshing breath – and immediately lost it all as his body was finally, finally able to clear itself of everything that had built up inside him while his lungs had been paralyzed by fluid.

Roy Mustang saw black fire dance in his eyes and it was beautiful.

"There we go," he heard "Pelznickel" in an almost frighteningly satisfied voice. He did not open his eyes as what felt like a ball of mud oozed up his throat and out of his mouth and into the gauze the doctor held under his face. He did not want to see what new element his body had created.

And then he leaned his sweaty forehead against the mattress and breathed.

His fingers had turned numb from his unrelenting grip on Fullmetal's shoulder. He could feel the boy's breathing; strangely stuttering, as if his windpipe kept catching. He shifted his fingers to waken the blood within but didn't let go. He wasn't sure why. Reasoning didn't seem very important right now.

He dozed.

And then Ed sprang to life.

"Pelznickel" had sent Eliza to check on the other patients with strict orders to summon him in the event of an emergency. He had sent Alphonse down to the lobby to look over as much as his brother's paperwork as he could and to simply get him out of the room. The doctor did not think it would be good for him or Edward if Alphonse saw his brother like this.

Fullmetal hissed in as much air as he could and forced it out with such strain that Roy saw the tears form in his eyes. He unconsciously clasped Edward's shoulder as hard as he could and only realized it when Ed's left hand wrapped around his taut wrist – not to pull him away, but to keep him close, as if he was afraid the colonel would scramble away from him if he didn't.

Perhaps he would have.

Ed's coughing took on the sound of percolating coffee; a frightening, effervescent sound that was similar to the ones he made when Roy pulled him out of the river. Then the boy's grip on Mustang's wrist tightened as all the muscles in his body hardened and he heaved hot chocolate onto the mattress.

The resounding pulling of air was the deepest, sweetest breath of Ed's life.

At the same time, the orderly from the pharmacy opened the door.

She took in the jars of pleural fluid, the soiled bed, and the patients who were fighting to literally re-inflate their lungs.

"Pelznickel" smiled a greeting at her.

"Ah, Miss Peggy! How's your husband?"

Ta bay cumtinyood...?...