Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, or any related characters.

Through his fever- haze, Edward was still able to form enough coherent thought to blame himself for this mess.

He was currently lying on a stretcher, being rushed through the empty back corridors of Central Hospital to their containment ward. He was covered with an angry red rash, his throat was beyond raw, and he was pretty sure his fever could set a world record. Ed was shivering and itchy and incoherent, and why? Because he had to go to Xing—but he couldn't be bothered to get the proper vaccinations, oh no. Because instead of just staying in the cities and enjoying his time with Al and May (and even a brief visit with Ling), he had to go traipsing through barely charted forests exposing himself to who knows what.

It was almost funny. Almost. Because, really, he'd only been considering not getting the shots until Winry had to make a big fuss about it, so of course he then decided he wouldn't do things the proper way, if only to stick it to her. This was all because of his stupid pride.

Briefly, Ed's shudders increased. It had been two years since the Promised Day, but he still couldn't think of the word "pride" without being reminded of that homunculus.

The orderlies at his side (in full coverage—he was "extremely contagious") pushed open a door and slowed, pulling him down a ramp gently. Ed twisted his head, wincing at the pain that simple motion elicited from his throat, to see where he was being taken: a transparent cube, inside which was a typical hospital room setup. The only difference was, the door and delivery window were airtight, and a humming pump chugged along beside the setup, continuously refreshing the air inside to prevent re-infection.

Edward understood why all this was necessary, but the sight still made his chest tighten uncomfortably. He didn't know how long he would be expected to stay in that contraption, but he did not handle being cooped up well. It wasn't a phobia—it was that he was eternally restless. Being alone in a box all day was like an additionally punishment for his stupidity.

Not that he had any say in the matter. Or that he could speak at all, really—it wasn't worth feeling like his throat was tearing in two.

Groaning internally, Ed let his eyes slide shut as he was wheeled into the quarantine chamber. He didn't want to see it from the inside, just yet. After all, he'd have plenty of time to get use to the view later.

Realistically, Roy had better things to do than be sitting on a train heading to Central. Rebuilding Ishval was nowhere near an easy task, and though he'd started more than a year and a half to go, progress was slow. There was always a conflict to be smoothed out, and while his team members were more than capable of handling them, Roy always had liked to have a finger on every issue.

But on the other hand, he was fiercely loyal to his team, and even though Edward Elric wasn't (as far as the paperwork revoking his State Alchemist's license was concerned) a part of that group anymore, Roy still couldn't live with himself if he didn't go see the kid in his time of need.

Kid. That was hardly an accurate description, anymore. He should probably kick the habit of thinking of Ed that way by the time he reached the hospital.

Sighing, Roy looked out the window at the passing scenery. Lieutenant Hawkeye, who had of course refused to let him leave for Central alone, glanced at him, turning away again when he said nothing. This was silly. What could he even hope to do? Al, when he had told him of Edward's mystery illness in a frantic phone call, said they were putting Ed in quarantine as a precaution against the disease spreading. So it wasn't like the visit would be anything close to normal, even as far as hospital visits went. Hell, Roy wasn't even certain he'd be able to talk to the boy—man. The whole trip was spontaneous and potentially pointless…but if he didn't make it, he'd be plagued with guilt over being insensitive for weeks to come.

Hence the train ride. Roy sighed once more, glancing at his watch. Still an hour before they arrived in Central, then perhaps twenty minutes to the hospital. He'd say hello to Al, who had sped back to Amestris as soon as he learned his brother's condition, take a look at Ed, and take his leave in a timely fashion so as to get back to his responsibilities—his tangible ones, rather than this emotional kind—as soon as possible.

Alphonse was livid. And he wasn't one to anger easily, so that was saying something. But he was justified—after all, wasn't it a little ridiculous that the doctors overseeing his brother wouldn't even tell him what Ed's condition was yet? "Wait until everyone is here, so we can explain it once," they said. His brother's health was more important than their convenience, thank you very much!

"Al, sit down. You can glare at the walls all you like, but they aren't going to change their minds, so there's no use getting worked up over it," Winy chastised him from her seat across the otherwise empty waiting room.

"How are you so calm about this?" Al asked, exasperated. "We haven't even been able to see him yet."

Winry bit her lip, looking away as she answered, "I guess I just expected something like this. I mean, he's been travelling and being reckless for two years, and I told him he needed to get the vaccines, but does he listen? No! Don't get me wrong, I'm glad everything worked out and he got his arm back, and you your body, but I swear he thinks he's immortal now. Like just because you both survived that mess, nothing can possibly touch him now."

"How can you say that?" Alphonse cried, throwing his arms wide. "That's ridiculous. After all that's happened to us, Brother knows better than anyone how fragile our morality is. He's got a streak of hubris a mile wide, but he's not naïve, Winry."

She opened her mouth to counter, then, changing her mind, shut it. Al turned away from her, regret for his outburst washing over him almost immediately. This sterile, brightly lit hospital room should be where they bonded over worry for Edward, not where they started a fight. It just wasn't right.

Alphonse peeked at the clock on the wall; only five minutes had gone by since he'd last done so. Roy should be here within the hour. Until then, it was just a waiting game.

Winry, Riza, Roy, Alphonse; lined up in the waiting room, they were finally faced with the doctor assigned to Edward's case. All were silent as the man, portly and severe in expression, cleaned his glasses, fidgeting to get them just right. No one was surprised that Al was the first to break the qiuet, bursting out, "Well? What is it?"

"It's known in Xing as the Red Viper. Not a very practical name for a disease, but there you have it," the man replied, the gravity in his voice implying a seriousness that was, unfortunately, lost in translation.

"You'll have to forgive us common folk," Roy began coolly, impatient. He hadn't come up here for a doctor to waste his time. "We don't know what that is."

After an impatient tsk, the man finally went into explanation mode. "It's a more serious variation of scarlet fever. The fever, in the case of the Red Viper, is actually secondary to the severity of the inflammation of the esophagus and pharynx—the sore throat. It takes longer to be healed, is extremely infectious, and can be more resistant to typical antibiotic strains."

"But Brother's going to be okay, right?" Alphonse questioned, his eyes pleading for that to be the case.

"Well, the odds are, he will be," the doctor replied. Al deflated like a popped balloon at the uncertain answer.

"Odds?" Winry repeated, voice trembling. "What kind of odds?"

"Oh, it's about seventy-thirty in his favor. We've begun the treatment, and we have a few other options should this particular antibiotic not be effective, but this disease is more vicious than scarlet fever. Sometimes it just…wins."

Roy felt immediately secure in his decision to come here. Alphonse looked like he might pass out, and Winry was tensed into a coil; with Ed in this kind of danger, even with the odds in his favor, Roy needed to be here to show his support.

"Can—can we see him, then?" Al stammered. "I know he's in quarantine, but I was told on the phone we could still visit…"

The doctor nodded once, curtly, before opening the door he had come in through and ushering them forward with one hand. "Right this way."