To Survive a War (FMA Fanfiction)

Chapter One

It had been a mistake for Edward to allow his eyes, to allow sleep to wash over him.

It had been a mistake for him to accept sitting in the mostly full train car.

It had been a mistake.

He woke with a strangled scream, reaching for a knife he usually kept under his pillow just in case...only to realize that it wasn't there. That he didn't have his pillow. That he was on the train.

He froze. There were other people.

Oh god, there were other people.

He curled in on himself, trying desperately not to cry, his far too thin frame shaking like a leaf as he tried to get himself under control.

He flinched violently when a gentle hand tugged lightly at his shirt sleeve.

His wide, golden eyes, hardened from war, looked to see who it was.

A young boy, no more than seven, staring at him in wide eyed concern.

"'Scuse me, mister, but are you okay?" He said shyly.

Edward had to fight to get himself under control, ignoring the looks from other passengers, both pitying and judgmental. Even after trying to calm himself, he was still trembling.

"Y-yeah...thanks, kid. Run along now, eh?" Ed murmured, feeling rather nauseous.

It became apparent after a minute that the nausea wasn't going to just simply go away, and Edward bolted out of his seat, lurching to the bathroom. God dammit! Why had they put him on a civilian train?!

This was embarrassing!

He made it to the bathroom just in time to collapse heavily onto the floor in front of the toilet.

His stomach chose that moment to give one violent lurch before he was throwing up, the bile burning his throat since he hadn't eaten in a few days.

He couldn't keep it down, or he just wasn't hungry.

He vomited until there was nothing left, and then dry heaved long enough that his entire body hurt.

When, finally, he let himself stand from the floor, face pale and body trembling worse than before, he wiped his mouth, flushed, and then staggered from the bathroom.

But not without catching sight of his appearance.

His uniform was crumpled, torn slightly in some places and with the enemies blood caked on it. Ed's hair, normally silken strands of gold, seemed duller, more of a pale hay color, and definitely in need of a good brushing.

His complexion was sickly, and his eyes had a dazed yet fierce look in them, as though he wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone who approached him.

There were large bags under his eyes, deep purple and black in color, and his uniform hung awkwardly from his frame where it had once fit perfectly.

He continued his lurching walk to the phones, and grabbed one with a shaking hand. Placing it in between his neck and shoulder, he falteringly dialed the number to Mustang's office.

He didn't have to wait long to get the familiar and welcome voice of Riza. "General Mustang's office, Colonel Hawkeye speaking."

"Hey, Riza." He rasped, his throat complaining with every syllable.

There was shocked silence.

"Edward?!" She exclaimed.

"Yeah, it's me. Haven't died yet, although that might have been for the best if I had." He chuckled darkly, his laughing turning into coughing and a quiet groan moments later. "Listen, can you tell the bastard that I won't be able to make it into work to report right away? I...I don't want you guys to see me like this..." His voice was quiet. "I'm a mess, Riza...and Winry is going to hit me when she realizes I broke her precious automail." Ed said, almost in his usual mocking tone if not for the defeat hidden beneath the surface.

Riza didn't hesitate to answer. "Ed, if you ever need us...we're here. We know what war is like." Her voice was soothing, maternal even, and Ed could hear muffled voices on the other line.

"I know...but Riza...I h-had no reason to keep going...A-Al has his b-body back...that was as far as I planned...and then when the war started...I just wanted to help...I didn't know it would end up like Ishval..." His voice cracked several times as it started to give out on him, turning raspy as tears started to blur his vision against his will.

"Ed..." She paused, as if unsure on how to continue. "Ed, are you sick? You sound like you just threw up...you should get that checked out." There was worry in her voice.

"Yeah...I threw up, but there's nothing physically wrong with me besides my automail and a few superficial bumps and scrapes. I just...the nightmares...the flashbacks...the goddamn panic attacks...I had a nightmare not even an hour ago and woke up screaming, reaching for a knife in a half full train car." He sounded broken.

He didn't know why he was telling Riza all of this. Maybe he just really needed someone to talk to, someone who understood.

"Edward, listen to me, you need to sleep. I'd bet right now that you look like hell. Wash up as much as you can, change clothes, and try to get some sleep. Ask to be moved to a private compartment."

He sighed. "Okay...but remember to tell the bastard I won't be going straight to central, all right?"

"All right, Ed."

The line went dead.

--908 Words--

*Giant flipping yawn* I've been in the car all day, so I've been writing. It's three in the morning. Imma sleep. ~The_Sin_Pride