son of elricest
Sep. 30th, 2004 03:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mikkenekoTitle: Fever
Pairing: Elricest (sequel to Whatever It Takes)
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Angst, elricest, v. light lime [edit] Also fluff, apparently.
Al knocked, and let himself into the bedroom. "Brother," he called. "I brought you lunch." He lifted the tray of chicken soup and crackers, in illustration; one of his best recipes, the one he had learned to make under Pinako's supervision.
Ed looked up from his book, from where he was sitting up in the bed, propped against the headboard. His right arm was caught up in a sling, bound tightly against his chest to keep all strain off the shoulder. Even with the added support, his right shoulder was discolored and swollen, with long raw patches showing around the edges.
Aside from the sling and a few bandages, Ed was bare-chested; getting a shirt on and off would have been nearly impossible without alchemy, and Ed had deemed it not worth it. It had been that way ever since Winry's last visit, and would probably only worsen over the next week until Winry and Pinako were ready for the surgery.
Ed looked away. "Thanks," he said, "but I'm not hungry."
"It's the fever that makes you feel that way, Brother," Al said softly, setting the lunch on the bedside table. "But you need to eat anyway. This is taking a lot out of your body, you have to keep up. Besides," he said, letting a bit of wicked humor into his tone, "all this means you're finally growing, doesn't it? If you don't feed it, it'll stop!"
"Huh." Ed snorted. "If growing means this much trouble, I could almost do without it." He picked up his book again, folding his legs up under the blanket to rest it on his knees so he could turn the pages with his free hand. Although he stared at the book, his eyes didn't really move over the page, and Al could almost feel the miserable frustration radiating all the way across the room.
It didn't suit Ed, to have to stay in one place for so long. He was a terrible convalescent; not that he was making himself unpleasant to Al. In fact, it was almost painful to watch him try and control himself around Al, not to let his pain and boredom snap out in temper against the only close thing nearby. He was just glad that he seemed to be a source of comfort for his brother, whether it was helping him with his arm or fetching him books or touching... Al found himself blushing at that line of thought and quickly headed it off. Or just being nearby!
Still, there were times when even Al's presence was enough to get Edward restless and agitated. When he would snap every third word and apologize every fourth, when he would shy away from Al's touch. And although Al knew, intellectually, that the only thing he could do at times like those was to stay away, it still felt like an abandonment.
He bit his lip, and sat next to Ed on the bed. His hand rose of its own accord, reaching to brush over the automail limb. Ed turned his head away, but not quickly enough to conceal his wince, and Al couldn't help but wince with him. It was hard, very hard; Ed's shoulder had grown so painful that he almost couldn't bear to be touched on the arm, and as the fever spread through his body, almost any contact was uncomfortable. He put up with Al's clinginess, though no matter how painful it was. And seeing his brother's suffering only made Al need to touch him more, to try and soothe and comfort Ed and to reassure himself that Ed was still there. And the cycle continued.
Ed's breath hissed through his teeth, and Al realized that his hand was gripping Ed's upper arm, pulling on the shoulder. "Sorry, Brother," he whispered, taking his hand away again.
"It's fine." Ed smiled briefly at him, then turned to the tray Al had brought him. With only one usable arm, he couldn't both hold his book and get at the food on the tray. He set his book on his lap, hunching over it to hold the place open, as he fumbled with the bowl.
"Here, I'll get that --" Al edged over on the bed and reached for the tray at the same time as Ed. It jolted under their hands, and he saw his brother's face flush with something more than fever.
"Don't bother," Ed snapped. "What, are you planning to spoon-feed me? I'm not a cripple. I can manage my own lunch."
"I know you're not a -- I'm sorry." Al couldn't keep a faint trace of hurt out of his voice as he sat back, and Ed's face tautened as he busied himself with the tray. He managed to get it settled across his legs, and reached for the book to place open on it.
The corner of the hardcover tome banged against the tray as he brought it up, sending it wobbling. Ed made a grab for it, but when the movement put strain on his bad shoulder he flinched, and the tray and its contents upset all over his book and his legs.
"Brother --" Al started to reach for Ed, but then stopped.
Ed had his eyes closed, his body tense as he took a few slow, deep breaths. At last he swallowed, opening his eyes, and pushed himself to sit up as he reached to pick up the bowl and book.
It was on the tip of Al's tongue to offer to help, to push away Ed's hands and pull off the blanket, shaking it on the floor, to whisk the mess and sharp splinters away from Ed and do it for him, but there had been too many incidents like this already for him to have any illusions of how Edward would react to that kind of help.
Still, as he watched Ed moving slowly and deliberately, trying to maneuver the difficult task one-handed without jolting his bad arm too much, and frustration bubbled up inside him. He clapped his hands, feeling it seethe between his palms, and pressed his hands to the bed.
The liquid seeping slowly into the blankets crackled, and ran backwards; the bowl reassembled itself to contain it. The book's cover leapt open, the pages fanning out as they cleaned and dried. He picked up the tray to set it safely aside, and found himself staring at the reassembled bowl. It was funny, how sometimes alchemy could make it seem as though time had run backwards, and your mistake never happened. That was a lie, though. Some mistakes couldn't be undone.
"I'm not a cripple," Ed said, drawing Al's attention out of his thoughts. His head was lowered, bangs falling into his face and hiding his eyes. "This is just for a couple of weeks. Then I'll be back to normal."
"Normal, brother?" Al couldn't stop the catch in his tone, the strange feeling in his throat. "Things ought to be normal now, but they're not. This isn't normal. This is my fault. I..."
"Al," and Ed sounded like he couldn't work up the energy to get angry. "Don't start this again. It's nothing to do with you."
"Do my promises mean so little to you, then?" Al's fingers hovered over the automail shoulder, eyes eyes fixed on the splitting, reddened flesh along the edges. "I promised, Brother! I promised you I'd find some way to return your normal arm and leg, and I didn't, did I? I barely even tried. I should go back to Central, and find some way to get into the Library. Even the civilian branch should have something useful. After what we've already accomplished, I can't believe it's impossible to --"
"No!" Before Al could blink, Ed had twisted around and grabbed onto Al, yanking him down onto the mattress. "Don't do that, Al! Never again! Don't even talk about it!"
"Huh?" Ed's eyes were wide and terrified, with white showing all around the rim. His grip on Al's arm, even with the human hand, was like steel.
"Never again, Al, do you understand me? Never again! It's too dangerous!" Ed hissed, pulling Al down face to face with him. "Don't you realize how lucky we were to get out of the last time alive? If you go back there... if you... anything could happen, don't you see? I won't let anything happen to you!"
"Brother..." Al said wonderingly. He tried to squirm out of Ed's grip, just so that he could put his arms around him in return, but Ed held on ferociously.
"I don't want you to disappear," Ed murmured, almost into Al's shoulder. "I couldn't stand it if you disappeared. Never... never again..."
"I'm not going anywhere." He finally managed a hand free, and worked it around Ed's chest, carefully holding him tight. "Don't worry."
"I wouldn't worry if you didn't say such stupid things." Ed relaxed a little bit, enough that he could pull back to look at Al again. "Don't go, you idiot. Don't go, do you hear me?"
"I won't go," Al promised. Still, he added, "Although I think you're overreacting, brother. It wouldn't even be like we were trying to make a whole new body out of scratch, just a--"
"No," Ed said, and he was pressing Al against him, squeezing so tight it made Al's ribs ache. "It's not worth it. This isn't worth it. You're what's important to me, Al."
"I'm..." It shouldn't have struck him that hard, hearing Ed say that aloud. After all, it wasn't as though he didn't know. Still, it was enough to make him catch his breath, and hug his brother back, hard enough that he knew he had to be hurting him.
"I'm so dumb," Ed said, muffled against Al's hair. "It's driving me crazy, having to stay in one place like this and there's nothing to do but read or look at but the walls and, and... and the damn thing hurts, okay? It's sending me up the wall, and I snap and snarl and it must be hell to put up with me, when all I really want..."
"You stayed with me when my body was new," Al sighed, rubbing his palms up Ed's back, taking care not to get too close to the place in his shoulder where he knew the bones inside were growing and twisting and grating against metal... He stopped thinking about that. "What kind of brother would I be if I didn't stay here for you?"
"I don't know, a smart one?" Ed said acidly. "If you'd complained half as much as I do, I wouldn't have stayed around."
"You would have," Al whispered, bringing his lips close to Ed's. "Mhmm... you would have."
He could feel the fever radiating off his brother, when he touched him lightly on his forehead, cheeks, jaw. It reminded him to be careful when he kissed Ed, not to press too far, not to lose himself too thoroughly in the taste of his brother's mouth, the scent of his skin, the touch...
He was so busy reminding himself not to put pressure on Ed, that it took him a minute to notice Ed's free hand tugging at his shirt, pulling it out of his pants. "Brother, wai -- What are you doing?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Ed said, with a hint of a chuckle in his voice. "I want you, Al... take this off and come onto the bed. I want to..."
"Ahmmm..." Al hummed with pleasure as Ed's mouth fastened on his throat, arching backwards in the bliss of touch. He pulled his brother against him, lining up their bodies in glorious friction, and sighed again in sheer bliss.
Ed bent forward, moving his mouth to Al's chest, but the small wince that passed over his face as he moved was enough to snap him out of it. "No, don't," he exclaimed. "You'll hurt yourself. Don't put strain on your shoulder. Lie back, and let me."
Ed sat back, but the scowl on his face and the shadow in his eyes spoke his unhappiness. "What?" Al said, half amused and half concerned. "Do I do it wrong all of a sudden? You've never complained before."
Ed snorted. "It isn't that," he said. "I just -- don't want you to. Is all. It doesn't make any sense, but I -- if I'm not holding you, I feel -- I feel like you're about to disappear."
"Oh, Brother..." Al leaned forward, gone misty-eyed. Ed turned solid red from embarrassment.
"That and, uh," he said, and wouldn't meet Al's eyes. "Right now I don't think I can... well... it's just hard to get in the mood."
"Huh?" Al looked at his brother a little blankly. Ed might be weird, but he was still a seventeen-year-old boy, and seventeen-year-olds never got out of the mood, not unless they were --
Oh. The fever. Right. Al closed his eyes, feeling like a fool. Well, that explained Ed's embarrassment, anyway. Al counted to ten, then sighed, a long sigh, and opened his eyes again.
"What?" Ed said, half irritated and half worried. He reached for Al with his left hand again. "Uh, it's okay, Al, I can still --"
"I don't feel like doing anything if it isn't good for you too," Al interrupted. He caught Ed's hand in one of his, and pulled it up to rub his cheek against, smiling. "Besides. I thought you wanted to hold me."
Without letting Ed protest, he managed to pull and prod Ed into lying back in the bed, back and shoulders flat and most supportive of his bad arm. Ed watched him warily, through half-shuttered lids, until Al finally wrestled off his shift and came to lie down with him. Only once Al was snuggled within the curve of his human arm, both his brother's arms around his chest, did Ed finally relax.
Ed really was too hot, Al decided. And sex would have been nice, for all his self-sacrificing words. But he didn't move, or complain. Right now, this moment, might have its problems, but there were blessings to be found, as well. There were still moments of peace and pleasure, made all the more precious for their contrast to the pain around them.
"Lunch?" Ed said, breaking the silence. He didn't move either, though.
"You got distracted," Al said, shifting a little against Ed's side. "I'll heat it up later, if you like."
"Good," Ed replied, sounding a little slurred. "Need it. 'M a growing boy..."
He sighed, a barely audible breath of air, and drifted off. Al lay close to his brother, felt the fever burning in his chest, and smiled.
~fin~
Pairing: Elricest (sequel to Whatever It Takes)
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Angst, elricest, v. light lime [edit] Also fluff, apparently.
Al knocked, and let himself into the bedroom. "Brother," he called. "I brought you lunch." He lifted the tray of chicken soup and crackers, in illustration; one of his best recipes, the one he had learned to make under Pinako's supervision.
Ed looked up from his book, from where he was sitting up in the bed, propped against the headboard. His right arm was caught up in a sling, bound tightly against his chest to keep all strain off the shoulder. Even with the added support, his right shoulder was discolored and swollen, with long raw patches showing around the edges.
Aside from the sling and a few bandages, Ed was bare-chested; getting a shirt on and off would have been nearly impossible without alchemy, and Ed had deemed it not worth it. It had been that way ever since Winry's last visit, and would probably only worsen over the next week until Winry and Pinako were ready for the surgery.
Ed looked away. "Thanks," he said, "but I'm not hungry."
"It's the fever that makes you feel that way, Brother," Al said softly, setting the lunch on the bedside table. "But you need to eat anyway. This is taking a lot out of your body, you have to keep up. Besides," he said, letting a bit of wicked humor into his tone, "all this means you're finally growing, doesn't it? If you don't feed it, it'll stop!"
"Huh." Ed snorted. "If growing means this much trouble, I could almost do without it." He picked up his book again, folding his legs up under the blanket to rest it on his knees so he could turn the pages with his free hand. Although he stared at the book, his eyes didn't really move over the page, and Al could almost feel the miserable frustration radiating all the way across the room.
It didn't suit Ed, to have to stay in one place for so long. He was a terrible convalescent; not that he was making himself unpleasant to Al. In fact, it was almost painful to watch him try and control himself around Al, not to let his pain and boredom snap out in temper against the only close thing nearby. He was just glad that he seemed to be a source of comfort for his brother, whether it was helping him with his arm or fetching him books or touching... Al found himself blushing at that line of thought and quickly headed it off. Or just being nearby!
Still, there were times when even Al's presence was enough to get Edward restless and agitated. When he would snap every third word and apologize every fourth, when he would shy away from Al's touch. And although Al knew, intellectually, that the only thing he could do at times like those was to stay away, it still felt like an abandonment.
He bit his lip, and sat next to Ed on the bed. His hand rose of its own accord, reaching to brush over the automail limb. Ed turned his head away, but not quickly enough to conceal his wince, and Al couldn't help but wince with him. It was hard, very hard; Ed's shoulder had grown so painful that he almost couldn't bear to be touched on the arm, and as the fever spread through his body, almost any contact was uncomfortable. He put up with Al's clinginess, though no matter how painful it was. And seeing his brother's suffering only made Al need to touch him more, to try and soothe and comfort Ed and to reassure himself that Ed was still there. And the cycle continued.
Ed's breath hissed through his teeth, and Al realized that his hand was gripping Ed's upper arm, pulling on the shoulder. "Sorry, Brother," he whispered, taking his hand away again.
"It's fine." Ed smiled briefly at him, then turned to the tray Al had brought him. With only one usable arm, he couldn't both hold his book and get at the food on the tray. He set his book on his lap, hunching over it to hold the place open, as he fumbled with the bowl.
"Here, I'll get that --" Al edged over on the bed and reached for the tray at the same time as Ed. It jolted under their hands, and he saw his brother's face flush with something more than fever.
"Don't bother," Ed snapped. "What, are you planning to spoon-feed me? I'm not a cripple. I can manage my own lunch."
"I know you're not a -- I'm sorry." Al couldn't keep a faint trace of hurt out of his voice as he sat back, and Ed's face tautened as he busied himself with the tray. He managed to get it settled across his legs, and reached for the book to place open on it.
The corner of the hardcover tome banged against the tray as he brought it up, sending it wobbling. Ed made a grab for it, but when the movement put strain on his bad shoulder he flinched, and the tray and its contents upset all over his book and his legs.
"Brother --" Al started to reach for Ed, but then stopped.
Ed had his eyes closed, his body tense as he took a few slow, deep breaths. At last he swallowed, opening his eyes, and pushed himself to sit up as he reached to pick up the bowl and book.
It was on the tip of Al's tongue to offer to help, to push away Ed's hands and pull off the blanket, shaking it on the floor, to whisk the mess and sharp splinters away from Ed and do it for him, but there had been too many incidents like this already for him to have any illusions of how Edward would react to that kind of help.
Still, as he watched Ed moving slowly and deliberately, trying to maneuver the difficult task one-handed without jolting his bad arm too much, and frustration bubbled up inside him. He clapped his hands, feeling it seethe between his palms, and pressed his hands to the bed.
The liquid seeping slowly into the blankets crackled, and ran backwards; the bowl reassembled itself to contain it. The book's cover leapt open, the pages fanning out as they cleaned and dried. He picked up the tray to set it safely aside, and found himself staring at the reassembled bowl. It was funny, how sometimes alchemy could make it seem as though time had run backwards, and your mistake never happened. That was a lie, though. Some mistakes couldn't be undone.
"I'm not a cripple," Ed said, drawing Al's attention out of his thoughts. His head was lowered, bangs falling into his face and hiding his eyes. "This is just for a couple of weeks. Then I'll be back to normal."
"Normal, brother?" Al couldn't stop the catch in his tone, the strange feeling in his throat. "Things ought to be normal now, but they're not. This isn't normal. This is my fault. I..."
"Al," and Ed sounded like he couldn't work up the energy to get angry. "Don't start this again. It's nothing to do with you."
"Do my promises mean so little to you, then?" Al's fingers hovered over the automail shoulder, eyes eyes fixed on the splitting, reddened flesh along the edges. "I promised, Brother! I promised you I'd find some way to return your normal arm and leg, and I didn't, did I? I barely even tried. I should go back to Central, and find some way to get into the Library. Even the civilian branch should have something useful. After what we've already accomplished, I can't believe it's impossible to --"
"No!" Before Al could blink, Ed had twisted around and grabbed onto Al, yanking him down onto the mattress. "Don't do that, Al! Never again! Don't even talk about it!"
"Huh?" Ed's eyes were wide and terrified, with white showing all around the rim. His grip on Al's arm, even with the human hand, was like steel.
"Never again, Al, do you understand me? Never again! It's too dangerous!" Ed hissed, pulling Al down face to face with him. "Don't you realize how lucky we were to get out of the last time alive? If you go back there... if you... anything could happen, don't you see? I won't let anything happen to you!"
"Brother..." Al said wonderingly. He tried to squirm out of Ed's grip, just so that he could put his arms around him in return, but Ed held on ferociously.
"I don't want you to disappear," Ed murmured, almost into Al's shoulder. "I couldn't stand it if you disappeared. Never... never again..."
"I'm not going anywhere." He finally managed a hand free, and worked it around Ed's chest, carefully holding him tight. "Don't worry."
"I wouldn't worry if you didn't say such stupid things." Ed relaxed a little bit, enough that he could pull back to look at Al again. "Don't go, you idiot. Don't go, do you hear me?"
"I won't go," Al promised. Still, he added, "Although I think you're overreacting, brother. It wouldn't even be like we were trying to make a whole new body out of scratch, just a--"
"No," Ed said, and he was pressing Al against him, squeezing so tight it made Al's ribs ache. "It's not worth it. This isn't worth it. You're what's important to me, Al."
"I'm..." It shouldn't have struck him that hard, hearing Ed say that aloud. After all, it wasn't as though he didn't know. Still, it was enough to make him catch his breath, and hug his brother back, hard enough that he knew he had to be hurting him.
"I'm so dumb," Ed said, muffled against Al's hair. "It's driving me crazy, having to stay in one place like this and there's nothing to do but read or look at but the walls and, and... and the damn thing hurts, okay? It's sending me up the wall, and I snap and snarl and it must be hell to put up with me, when all I really want..."
"You stayed with me when my body was new," Al sighed, rubbing his palms up Ed's back, taking care not to get too close to the place in his shoulder where he knew the bones inside were growing and twisting and grating against metal... He stopped thinking about that. "What kind of brother would I be if I didn't stay here for you?"
"I don't know, a smart one?" Ed said acidly. "If you'd complained half as much as I do, I wouldn't have stayed around."
"You would have," Al whispered, bringing his lips close to Ed's. "Mhmm... you would have."
He could feel the fever radiating off his brother, when he touched him lightly on his forehead, cheeks, jaw. It reminded him to be careful when he kissed Ed, not to press too far, not to lose himself too thoroughly in the taste of his brother's mouth, the scent of his skin, the touch...
He was so busy reminding himself not to put pressure on Ed, that it took him a minute to notice Ed's free hand tugging at his shirt, pulling it out of his pants. "Brother, wai -- What are you doing?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Ed said, with a hint of a chuckle in his voice. "I want you, Al... take this off and come onto the bed. I want to..."
"Ahmmm..." Al hummed with pleasure as Ed's mouth fastened on his throat, arching backwards in the bliss of touch. He pulled his brother against him, lining up their bodies in glorious friction, and sighed again in sheer bliss.
Ed bent forward, moving his mouth to Al's chest, but the small wince that passed over his face as he moved was enough to snap him out of it. "No, don't," he exclaimed. "You'll hurt yourself. Don't put strain on your shoulder. Lie back, and let me."
Ed sat back, but the scowl on his face and the shadow in his eyes spoke his unhappiness. "What?" Al said, half amused and half concerned. "Do I do it wrong all of a sudden? You've never complained before."
Ed snorted. "It isn't that," he said. "I just -- don't want you to. Is all. It doesn't make any sense, but I -- if I'm not holding you, I feel -- I feel like you're about to disappear."
"Oh, Brother..." Al leaned forward, gone misty-eyed. Ed turned solid red from embarrassment.
"That and, uh," he said, and wouldn't meet Al's eyes. "Right now I don't think I can... well... it's just hard to get in the mood."
"Huh?" Al looked at his brother a little blankly. Ed might be weird, but he was still a seventeen-year-old boy, and seventeen-year-olds never got out of the mood, not unless they were --
Oh. The fever. Right. Al closed his eyes, feeling like a fool. Well, that explained Ed's embarrassment, anyway. Al counted to ten, then sighed, a long sigh, and opened his eyes again.
"What?" Ed said, half irritated and half worried. He reached for Al with his left hand again. "Uh, it's okay, Al, I can still --"
"I don't feel like doing anything if it isn't good for you too," Al interrupted. He caught Ed's hand in one of his, and pulled it up to rub his cheek against, smiling. "Besides. I thought you wanted to hold me."
Without letting Ed protest, he managed to pull and prod Ed into lying back in the bed, back and shoulders flat and most supportive of his bad arm. Ed watched him warily, through half-shuttered lids, until Al finally wrestled off his shift and came to lie down with him. Only once Al was snuggled within the curve of his human arm, both his brother's arms around his chest, did Ed finally relax.
Ed really was too hot, Al decided. And sex would have been nice, for all his self-sacrificing words. But he didn't move, or complain. Right now, this moment, might have its problems, but there were blessings to be found, as well. There were still moments of peace and pleasure, made all the more precious for their contrast to the pain around them.
"Lunch?" Ed said, breaking the silence. He didn't move either, though.
"You got distracted," Al said, shifting a little against Ed's side. "I'll heat it up later, if you like."
"Good," Ed replied, sounding a little slurred. "Need it. 'M a growing boy..."
He sighed, a barely audible breath of air, and drifted off. Al lay close to his brother, felt the fever burning in his chest, and smiled.
~fin~
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-09-30 05:28 am (UTC)*Melts into warm puddle of goo*
So cute!
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Date: 2004-09-30 09:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-30 09:27 am (UTC)Too late now, I was expecting angst!
*Dissolves back into puddle* Call me if you write anything else, mmkay? XD
no subject
Date: 2004-09-30 11:27 am (UTC)o_o *cries* IT'S A HOMUNCULUS! *pulls on Roy gloves and snaps* *fries*
...oh, wait. Not a homunculus... just a fangirl. >_>; My bad.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-30 11:34 am (UTC)Ignore the insane crazy fangirl, she needs tea.
Oh, and it's not so much sap as "fluff". Sap is OMGEWWW cloying while fluff is "awww" and melting into puddles of goo.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-30 12:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-30 12:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-30 03:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-30 05:30 pm (UTC)Even when they're angsting?
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Date: 2004-09-30 05:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-05 02:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-05 09:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-30 07:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-30 09:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-30 11:50 pm (UTC)Eventually, I'll get you to write an Elricest lemon. Maybe even a PWP.
*^_^*
no subject
Date: 2004-10-01 12:03 am (UTC)Squee, I'm loved! ^_^
Eventually, I'll get you to write an Elricest lemon. Maybe even a PWP.
I bet if you wrote finger-sucking, or baby Al, that would inspire me. 9_9
no subject
Date: 2004-10-01 11:07 pm (UTC)This was wonderful! Thank you for writing it. <3
no subject
Date: 2004-10-01 11:56 pm (UTC)I don't mind. This is a fanblog, all posts are public. :)
I'm happy that you thought it complemented the other fic well, and also that you didn't think it was OOC. I guess if enough people tell me that, I won't need to worry so much about it. *grin*
I especially loved the bit where Ed freaks out when Al talks about getting his limbs back.
I think if he were completely lucid, he'd tone down the spaz-and-deathgrip factor a bit, but he's a little emotional 'cause of the fever. :)
Glad you enjoyed it!