Rating: T

Pairing: EdWin/Edward x Winry

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Word Count: 2574

Title: Symptoms

Description: EdWin One Shot

Edward and Winry are on a trip to Central, but things don't go as planned.

A/N: Enjoy. Like. Comment. Happy reading!

Winry

Ow.

I close my eyes slowly and massage my temples. The dull pain I woke up with has gotten worse. It's a full-blown, throbbing, excruciating headache now. I was hoping a hot shower would help, but it seems not.

On top of that, my stomach has started feeling queasy. Weak. Like I'm standing in this tub with the water spraying on me, but any second, I might have to sit down.

I don't want to go out tonight. Usually, I wouldn't mind, but my body is in rebellion, apparently. But, of course, it's not like it's a dinner date we can just reschedule. No. It's a private party being thrown in honor of General Mustang. Ed insisted we attend, which actually sort of surprised me since I didn't think he was the biggest fan of the general's.

But whatever his reasons, we're here. In a hotel room in Central. Ed went out to pick up his suit from the tailor's. He should be back any minute. I'm supposed to be dressed when he gets here. With my hair and makeup done. At this point, it'll be a miracle if I have underwear on.

Why won't this water get warm? I turn to check the faucets, but the cold is practically completely off. I can see the steam rising around me, and I can tell it isn't cold, but for some reason I can't get rid of these goosebumps. And I keep shivering.

What is going on?

Since my hair and skin are clean, and my attempt to use the shower to make myself feel better is failing, I shut off the water and grab a thick towel, wrapping it around me. When I step over the side, the cool air almost knocks me over. I stand completely still, and hug the towel close to my freezing body.

"Winry?" Ed's voice calls out, echoing through the bedroom and into the bathroom.

"I'm in here," I try to call back, but for some reason my voice isn't working right.

I sit down on the edge of the tub and rub my arms.

"Hey, are you–" he stops mid-sentence from where he's standing in the doorway holding a garment bag and stares at me. "Why aren't you ready?"

"I'm sorry," I murmur faintly. "I was trying to be, but…I don't feel good."

"Oh." He frowns. "Well, are you going to be able to go? I can't be late for this. It's important."

"I know." I nod. "I j-just…" I pause when my teeth start chattering. "I just need a few minutes."

"Okay." He nods, and I can tell he's distracted. "I'm gonna get changed."

He goes back into our room, and I force myself to stand, making my way on shaking legs to where I set out my panties and bra. It takes me longer than it should to get them on. My knees and back and neck all ache. And I just want to lie down on the tile and curl into a ball.

"Winry?" Ed pokes his head back in. "Do you want me to bring your dress in here?"

"No." I shake my head slowly, trying to quell the searing pain behind my eyes. "I… Oh." I get dizzy all of the sudden, and throw a hand out to balance. I hit the wall, and slowly slide down, resting my cheek against it.

"What the hell?"

"It's nothing," I whisper.

This event is important to him. For some reason. I don't want to ruin it.

"You look pale, Winry. Are you sure –"

"I…" I close my eyes and wince. "I don't think…"

Tears suddenly clog my throat, and I can't keep them back. I feel too horrible.

"Wait. What? Why are you crying?" He steps back, clearly still unable to handle girl tears.

"I already told you," I reply pitifully, "I don't feel good."

"I thought you meant it was…you know… That you got your, uh…"

"I'm not on my period, Ed," I growl at him.

"Oh." He blinks and runs a hand over the back of his neck. "Well, then what…"

"Oh God," I moan. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

I scramble over to the toilet and lift the seat up with unnecessary force. My stomach is roiling. But I don't vomit. Maybe I would feel better if I did, but I don't. When the worst of it passes, I slump back onto my knees, shivering in my underwear.

"Okay. What was that?"

"Dammit, Ed." I look over and glare at him. "Are you paying any attention at all? I already said I don't feel good. My whole body aches. I feel queasy. I've had a headache all day, and–"

"Okay!" he cuts me off, and sighs before turning back to me. "Wait. You're not pregnant, are you?"

"I'm… What?" I shriek at him.

"Well? You said–"

"No! I'm… I can't be…" I pause and do the math in my head. "No," I tell him finally. "I'm not pregnant."

At least, I don't think I am.

"I think I'm just sick," I announce finally. "I…don't think I can go tonight."

"Yeah." He crouches down next to me. "I was afraid you were gonna say that."

"You can still go," I point out, forcing my teeth not to chatter. "I can just go to bed, and–"

"You said you have a headache, nausea, and your body hurts?"

"And, uh, chills," I add softly. "I can't get warm."

"Well, that implies fever," he mutters. "Which means, with all those symptoms, I'm thinking this is some kind of flu."

I feel more tears start welling up, and I sniffle loudly.

"I'm not leaving you here alone like this," he goes on, scooping me up off the floor. "I'll just call Mustang and tell him I can't make it."

"Ed, you don't have to–"

"Shut up, Winry. I'm not arguing about this."

"Okay," I whisper, burying my pounding head in his neck.

He puts me in the bed, tucking me in. I start to ask for my sleep shirt, but just thinking about the effort required to put it on tires me out. Instead, I curl into the pillow, and he brushes the hair off my forehead.

"I'm going to make you some tea and find some juice or something. Do you think you can eat?"

"No," I mumble. "Thank you."

He comes back a few minutes later with a cup of hot tea and another of apple juice.

"I brought a cool cloth for your head," he tells me softly.

"Mmm," I whimper when it makes contact with my skin.

"It should help your fever and your headache. Mostly, you should probably just sleep."

"You can go to the party," I murmur. "It's okay."

I'm falling asleep when he answers, but I think I might make out the word "bullheaded," before I do.

Edward

She keeps mumbling and moving in her sleep. I watch her sleep all the time, but usually she's pretty peaceful. Unless they're, uh, special dreams. Which may not be peaceful, but I definitely enjoy them more.

This though. She keeps tossing and turning and whimpering. I'm sure it's the fever. As much as I've tried to get it down, it still hasn't broken. I've been using ice water and cold cloths. I made her five different kinds of tea and tried to wake her up enough to drink them. I… I'm running out of ideas.

For now, all I can really do is keep an eye on her. I've only left her long enough to change back out of my suit and into my sleep pants. I'm afraid to fall asleep in case she needs something. I'm tempted to call someone, but… I need to be able to do this myself. Winry is… She's mine. And I have to take care of her on my own. I'm not very good with sickness, really. When I got sick, Mom was always there to fix me. And after…Winry and Granny took care of me. Now, it's my turn, and I can't let her down.

"Ed?" Winry's voice breathes my name, and I move immediately to her side.

"What is it? Are you thirsty? Do you need something to eat? I–"

"Shhhh," she hisses. "Too loud."

"Sorry."

"I need to go…to the bathroom." She starts to get up, but her face gets pale, and she instantly drops back onto her pillow.

"It's okay. I got you."

She doesn't fight me when I pick her up again and carry her back in the small room adjoining ours. At first, I'm hesitant to leave her, but there's a line I'm not crossing, and this is it.

I wait outside the door until I hear her voice.

"Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"I think…"

"What, Winry? Do you need me to–"

She pulls the door open, surprising me, only to turn around immediately and fall on her knees in front of the toilet, where she starts gagging. I follow her, kneeling behind her to hold her hair out of her face. Her body is shaking with the force of her dry heaves. Her stomach must be empty because the water in the bowl looks undisturbed when she finally rests her cheek on the porcelain rim.

"I hate this," she murmurs.

"Me too," I run my fingers down her back, and I feel it quake with a sob.

"Are you ready for me to take you back to bed?"

"Uh-huh," she nods, and leans into me.

I try not to jostle her too much, considering how awful she feels. When I have her back in bed, I get in beside her, pulling her hair over her shoulder.

"Could you rub my back, Ed?" Her weak voice tears at me, but I know I'm already doing everything I can.

"Sure, Winry."

I run my hand over her spine gently and rhythmically until her breathing changes again. Even then I don't quit. If this is making her feel better, I want to keep doing it. Right now, it's the only thing I know is helping.

I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know Winry is shaking me.

"Ed? Edward."

"Wha–?" I blink and sit upright. "What? What is it? Are you okay?"

"I'm better," she tells me softly, sitting back. "My fever broke, I think."

"Oh." I nod. "That's good."

"But, now I'm a little hungry."

"Appetite is a good sign," I go on. "Right?"

"Yeah." She gives me a small smile. "I just…I still don't feel great. But I thought maybe some of Granny's stew? I know you don't really know how to make it, but I can tell you the ingredients and try and give you directions from the couch, if you help me move–"

"Granny's stew?" I cut her off, feeling stunned. "I mean, I guess, I can try it."

"If you get me some paper, I can write down what you need from the market," she goes on. "And, also, maybe a glass of water."

"Yeah. I'll be right back."

I grab the stuff she needs, and once she's got the list down, I take it and put it in my pocket.

"Are you sure you don't need me to do anything before I go?"

"I should be fine," she assures me. "Just don't take too long, I guess."

"Okay. Yeah. I'll be back soon."

I kiss her forehead lightly, and grab my coat on my way to the door. I've gotta make this trip fast. I don't want to leave her here alone for a minute longer than I have to.

Winry

I should've known better than to suggest Granny's stew. Not that Ed isn't working really hard at it. He just…isn't skilled in the kitchen. It takes him four attempts to get it…good enough. Fortunately, he bought a large surplus of ingredients, which I can only take to mean, he suspected this problem would occur.

After I've gotten some nutrients in me, I take another nap. I think the worst of it has passed. At least, I hope it has.

"I'm sorry, Winry. I just… It was the milk. I swear, I did exactly what you said," Edward comes into the bedroom apologizing again over the stew.

"It's fine, Ed," I assure him. "You did okay."

"Are you feeling any better?"

"A little. The food helped. And my fever hasn't come back. But I still don't feel like getting up and doing anything."

"Well…while I was at the market, I found something I thought you might like."

He pulls out a journal from his coat, and I blink.

"Is that…an automail manual?"

"The latest edition." He grins smugly.

"Gimme!" I lunge forward, and he pulls it away. "Hey!"

"You have to rest," he reminds me firmly. "If you get too…excited about this thing, I'll take it away."

I frown at him and cross my arms.

"You'd better be glad I don't have a wrench handy," I bite.

"Here you go." He slides the manual into my lap and brushes his lips over my temple. "I'm going to clean up the kitchen. Yell if you need me."

Edward

When I walk out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel through my hair, Winry is sitting up in bed, thumbing through the automail manual. Again. She's been looking at it for two days now, and she's already been through it twice and dog-eared, like, half the pages.

"How are you feeling today?" I walk over to her and sit on the edge of the bed.

"Much better." She sets the book aside and looks up at me. "We're leaving today, aren't we?"

"Yeah. You have clients waiting back home, and we were really here for that party."

"I'm sorry you missed it," she says for the billionth time. "I know you wanted to be there."

"Winry, it's okay. I called Mustang, and he said he understood. I'll be back in a month anyway for that one thing…"

"You mean General Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye's baby shower?" she suggests helpfully.

"Yeah, that," I mumble.

"Admit it," she says pointedly, poking my chest. "You're excited."

"What? No." I shake my head. "It's weird. They're… They shouldn't even…"

"You like babies, Ed," she declares softly. "And you're happy for them."

"Okay, sure." I nod in concession before snapping my eyes back to hers. "But don't get any ideas. I'm not ready to be a father."

"Don't worry," she laughs softly. "I'm not planning on taking that leap quite so soon."

"Good."

"But if it did happen…I would be really happy," she adds softly. "You'll be a great dad, Ed."

I blink and feel my face get warm. Averting my eyes, I look over at the clock on the wall.

"Well, we've got to get going. Our train is leaving in an hour."

"What?" she squeals. "I still have to shower."

She exits the bed in a flurry of sheets, and dashes to the bathroom.

"We can always take a later train," I call after her.

"No, we can't!" she yells back. "I'm not making us miss anything else on this trip. I'll be ready!"

I shake my head at the closed door before wandering over to my suitcase and grabbing my clothes. I pause when I catch sight of the already worn-looking automail manual on the nightstand.

I grin to myself. "At least she's back to normal."