THREE

Doctor Porter scrubbed his face. He'd been staring at the microscope for hours, but it wasn't making a difference. He didn't understand what was going on. The hallucinations. The irrational behavior. It all pointed towards a hallucinogen. But it couldn't be just a hallucinogen. This one was not only affecting the patient's psyche and nervous system, but it was elevating his heart rate and blood pressure to dangerous levels. He was experiencing fevers and cold sweats, vomiting often, and the nurses had reported frequent nosebleeds in the last half an hour. Hallucinogens didn't do this to their victims. And it only seemed to be getting worse as the hours passed.

Why? Why was it getting worse? Porter wanted to bang his head against the table. How in the world could he help this kid if he didn't even know what was causing such a strange effect?

He sat back in his seat and took a deep breath. Maybe when the lab results came in, he'd get some answers.

As if by magic, the door to the lab opened and Marjorie, one of his nurse aides, walked in, a file folder in hand.

"These are the lab results," she said. "They just came in from the guys downstairs."

"What do they say?" Porter said.

Marjorie made a face.

"Inconclusive."

"Dammit!"

Porter threw the file folder on the table.

"What is causing this?" he asked, angrily running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, half-tempted to yank it out.

"It doesn't make any sense. He's agitated and hallucinating, but all the other symptoms don't make sense! Hallucinogens don't produce this effect on the body! And the symptoms get worse the more agitated he gets!"

He ruffled his hair.

"We're missing something, Marj. But what?"

She shrugged.

"You got me. Only person who knows is that woman who started this whole mess."

Nyte. That's right. Doctor Porter turned back to his microscope. She had the antidote. But why would an antidote be needed? Normally when it came to hallucinogens, people just waited them out until the effects eventually wore off. Did that mean that the effects of this particular hallucinogen iwouldn't/i wear off? So what if it wasn't a hallucinogen at all, but in fact a kind of poison that mimicked a hallucinogen? That would explain the sweating, vomiting, and high fevers. That was the body's common response to fighting off a poison. But a poison that caused hallucinations as well?

Suddenly the whole situation had become a lot more desperate, and Porter was running out of time.

"Marjorie...I need another blood sample."

The woman raised a blonde eyebrow.

"Why? Do you know what it is?"

"Not exactly. Get me another blood sample and I might be able to tell you."

Majorie nodded and headed out the door.

"I'm on it!" she assured him.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Al!"

Alphonse raised his head, scanning the crowd before him for a moment to locate the source of the familiar voice. At his height, it wasn't hard for him to peer over everyone's heads and see the hand waving at him, trying to get his attention.

"Over here!" called the pretty blonde girl attached to the waving appendage.

She had sparkling blue eyes and a warm smile and was clad in a black pleated skirt, hiking boots, and a black jacket under which she wore a cream colored shirt. Alphonse knew her face well. He'd known her since they were very small children, before he'd been a soul encased in armor. Her name was Winry Rockbell and her family farmhouse had only been half a mile away from his before his brother and him and burned it to the ground.

Winry was also the manufacturer and mechanic of Edward's automail limbs. They were her pride and joy, so she said, and whenever Edward broke one, as he was wont to do in the rough lifestyle he and his brother led, he always returned to Winry for repairs. She never spared him a lecture or a wallop to the head from the heavy wrench she seemed to always have on her person when that happened, however.

Despite her somewhat more violent tendencies, Winry was actually a very patient and loving girl. She cared very deeply for the Elrics; had grown up with them as if they were brothers, though Alphonse suspected that, in recent years, her feelings for Edward at least had begun to shift towards something not-so-brotherly. And he also got the feeling that Edward reciprocated with the not-so-sisterly feelings he had for Winry, but since neither of them would admit to anything, Alphonse kept his suspicions to himself.

He made his way through the crowded train station to come to stand at Winry's side while she waited for her baggage to be unloaded. She looked up at him curiously.

"Al, what's going on? Granny came running upstairs after the phone call and told me to pack my bag and get my butt out here to East City as soon as possible. She sounded really worried. Is something wrong with Ed?"

Alphonse grabbed her suitcase before she could get a hand on it and hoisted it easily.

"I'll tell you about it on the way to the hospital."

Winry knew what that meant.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Edward's whole body was arched off the bed as he screamed, his voice squeaking and breaking from all the abuse his vocal cords had been taking in the last few hours. He twisted and pulled at the bindings around his wrists frantically, trying to get away, but to no avail. On either side, two nurses worked anxiously to combat the teen's raging fever with cool, damp cloths, but it seemed to only be agitating him to higher levels of distress. It was as if he didn't even see the women at all, his eyes blank and glassy.

"Excuse me!" came a voice behind Winry, startling her from where she stood frozen in the doorway. A nurse hurried past her, laden with a bowl of water full of ice.

"If you're going to stand there, don't be in the way!" the woman said in a curt, businesslike tone. Winry wasn't sure how to react to all of this hustle-and-bustle. She watched Edward's body writhe and contort against the straps lashing him to the bed, heard his scream, saw him collapse against the mattress, exhausted but still screaming, and she turned away to face Alphonse.

"Oh, Alphonse," she said, putting a hand on his arm. She sensed rather than felt his trembling and looked up at his expressionless face. The iron helmet seemed a bit forlorn to her.

"Come on," she said, taking his arm into hers and steering him away from the door. "Let's go for a walk."

Alphonse didn't fight her; didn't have the strength to, really. He was just so relieved to have her here with him. With Edward incapacitated and in the state that he was, Alphonse had begun to feel very lost. He wanted desperately to help, but didn't know how and always ended up being in the way. It was clear to him that this was no ordinary drug; that it was doing something really horrible to his brother and despite his desires, it was one battle Edward was going to have to fight alone without him.

But Edward didn't seem to be winning. His fever was getting worse and he was vomiting more frequently. Not to mention that his hallucinations only seemed to have gotten more terrifying in the last two hours. And Alphonse had no idea what he was seeing, only knew that they were so frightening that they had his normally even-keeled brother screaming and sobbing hysterically like a madman.

Without Edward to guide him, Alphonse had turned to the one person who might be able to help him; the one person who would give him ungrudging support. Who better than Winry?

Winry, for her part, was doing her best to remain silent as the two of them walked down the halls of the hospital towards the garden courtyard located behind it. They made a strange pair and drew many curious glances, but Winry hardly acknowledged them, so used to Alphonse's strange body that she had no qualms about walking arm and arm with a seven-foot suit of armor.

She wanted to bombard the younger Elric with a million questions. Where was that Nyte woman Alphonse mentioned? Why had she done this to Edward? What was wrong with him? Would he be okay? What were the doctors doing? What about the military? Were they doing anything to catch this madwoman? She refrained from asking them because she knew what the answer would be; knew, too, that Alphonse didn't need that right now. She could sense his distress at his brother's condition, and she was glad he'd called for her. Both of the brothers needed her, and, as always, she was going to be there for them however she could.

After they'd walked a little ways into the courtyard, she looked up at Alphonse.

"Al...how long has he been like this?"

Alphonse hung his head, staring at the ground as he walked.

"A few hours now. It wasn't this bad when it started, but...it keeps getting worse. Doctor Porter sent off a blood sample to have it looked at, but no one knows what the drug is or what it's doing Brother."

"Can't they give him a sedative or something? It seems so cruel to just let him scream like that."

Alphonse shook his head.

"Doctor Porter doesn't want to apply a sedative until he knows what the drug is and what it's doing to Brother's body. Once he knows that, then he says he can tell what kinds of drugs will react with it and how, and he can start treating it. Until then, they're just going to fight the fever as best they can."

Winry nodded, then peered up at the twin orbs serving as Alphonse's eyes.

"How are iyou/i holding up?" she asked him. He looked over at her, as if startled by the question, but then he turned his eyes to the path ahead of them.

"I'm..." he started, but stopped as he struggled to find the right words.

"I'm scared," he finally said. "What if they don't figure out what the drug is and Brother doesn't get any better? What if he doesn't recover from this and is crazy for the rest of his life? What if he...?"

He bit off the rest of that question and Winry turned to look down the path ahead, squinting her eyes, the notion that Edward might not be around too horrible a thought to entertain for long.

"Well, you said that there's an antidote, right?"

"Yeah, but Nyte has it, and we don't know where she is."

"But it's out there. And she can't have gone far. So there's still hope."

"Maybe," Alphonse said. He didn't like the thought of counting on a crazy woman for his brother's salvation.

They walked a little longer in silence when Winry patted Alphonse's arm.

"You need a break," she said.

Alphonse looked at her in shock, completely taken aghast at the idea.

"Brother needs me!" he blurted. "I can't just leave him here!"

"I'll look after him while you're gone," Winry said. "But Al, you need to go and clear your head for awhile. I don't need you screaming on the bed next to him."

Alphonse sighed.

"Alright," he said, and he stepped onto the path that would take him back to the front of the hospital building.

"I'll be back in half an hour."

Winry waved at him until he was out of sight and then headed back into the hospital.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Wake up...

Edward jerked awake. When had he fallen asleep? He couldn't remember. He tried to sit up on the bed, but found he couldn't because of the straps secured around his wrists and ankles, holding him down. Where the hell was he? What was going on?

He heard a noise next to him and looked over. Trisha stood there, looking exactly as he remembered her.

"Mom?" he asked, voice hoarse and rough.

"Hello, sweetheart," she replied gently.

"Mom...what are you doing here?"

"You're sick, sweetie. Someone has to take care of you."

Oh, well that explained a few things. Except these straps. He struggled against them.

"Mom...why am I tied down like this? Is something wrong with me?"

She smiled sweetly, but there was something dark and sinister in her smile.

"Of course not, sweetie. That's just to keep you from hurting us any more."

He stared at her.

"What? What are you talking about? I would never hurt you!"

She was changing, morphing, her form becoming twisted and bent.

"You don't remember, Edward? I'm hurt," she said, her voice becoming garbled and not quite human.

He wanted to look away, but couldn't. He could only watch in horror as her body turned itself inside out and her head twisted around on its spinal column. She stared at him, reaching for him with one of her bent and twisted arms.

"Don't you remember how you left me there like this to die? Please fix me, soon, Edward. It hurts so much..."

He shrank back from her grasping hands as much as he could, but she was getting closer.

"Brother, please fix me," he suddenly heard to his left and he looked over to find Alphonse standing there, whole once again.

"Alphonse!" Edward shouted, straining against the restraints. Alphonse lifted his arms.

"Please, Brother," he said. "Fix me."

All at once, Alphonse began to melt, his skin peeling away from the muscles and bones underneath, and the younger Elric started screaming.

"Help me, Brother!" he screamed. "Help me!"

"Alphonse!"

Edward thrashed violently against his restraints. He couldn't help them. He couldn't help them!

"You left us like this, Edward," said his mother.

"No!" he answered. "No, it wasn't like that! I never meant for this to happen! Please!"

"You left us to die, Edward. You hurt us and then you left us there."

Her hands were on his face and neck and he thrashed violently. He didn't want to be touched.

"No! Stay away! Don't come any closer!"

"Don't you want a hug from Mommy, sweetheart?"

"NO!"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Winry walking down the hall towards Edward's room when she heard Edward's loud cry followed by what sounded like a clapping noise. She hurried down the hall in time to hear a loud crash echo into the hall.

"Someone stop him!" she heard a woman shout and then the same woman screamed. A crash and a bang later, Edward suddenly vaulted into the hallway, his hair loose and his eyes wild and a thin knife held in his right hand. Four nurses approached him, but he brandished the knife at them and they stopped short. Breathing raggedly, he turned to run down the hall and found Winry standing in his way.

"Edward," she said in a quiet voice.

For a second, his eyes focused and he saw her, but then the wild light came back to his eyes and he backed away from her.

"No!" he half-whimpered.

"Edward," she said more insistently, stepping towards him.

"No! Stay away!"

He pointed the knife at her and she stepped back.

"You're not real," he said sounding desperate and scared. "You're not real!"

"I am real, Edward," she replied, putting a hand against her chest. "Don't you recognize me?"

She took another step towards him, but he screamed at her.

"NO! Stop! Don't come any closer!"

The nurses tried to jump on him from behind, but he whipped around, slashing at the air with the knife in his hand, keeping them at bay.

"iStay away from me!/i" he screamed, and then he was off, racing on uneven bare feet down the hall and crashing through the window, rolling across the concrete to play out his momentum. Winry rushed to the window in enough time to see him get to his feet and take off into the brush.

"Edward!" she shouted. "Come back!"