FMA One-Shots

sick

don't mind me i just really like sickfics-

hsdgdyshs yeah anyway, story information: you can think of this as FMA 03 or FMAB, there's no plot in this one :P also i really like Riza being a responsible adult/motherly-like sometimes soooo, that's gonna be in a lot of these-

tw//vomit,
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"Pull over." Edward reached across to put his hand on Riza's shoulder. The woman was driving, Mustang in the passengers, and Alphonse in the back with Ed.

Riza doesn't glance away from the road, but she narrows her eyes. "Why?" She asks, suspicious of the sudden demand.

It was strange, especially since they were already so close to the second branch library. There was no reason to stop.

Ed still pushes, "just pull over."

Mustang sighs as she complies, slowly pulling off the road and over to the side. They came to a stop, and the colonel spoke up. "Why would you-"

He stops his sentence as the door opens slightly and Ed leans out, wordless. His bangs hang over his eyes and his face is hidden. Not having put his hair into his normal braid because he was too tired to care this morning. The blonde locks drape over his shoulders.

"Brother...?" Al's armour clinks.

It's silence between them, until Ed retches, harshly. He grips the car door so tightly, his knuckles turn white.

Nobody made a move for a second, only the noise of stomach acid coming out harshly and splatting into the pavement.

Riza opens her door and gets out, walking over to the other side of the car where Ed is. She crouches down beside the boy, being careful of the body fluids, and holds back his hair.

His hair already had spit and vomit in it slightly, but better some than a lot. She rubs over his scapula as he breathes heavily, air having been knocked out of him.

She gazes up at the two boys in the car, looking stern. But she doesn't say anything and turns her attention back to the young alchemist. "Ed?" She whispers, not softly, but more caring than normal. Gently, she pushes his back to sit up straighter.

"Yeah?" His voice is slightly hoarse, and he winces at the burning feeling in his throat.

He had woken up feeling terrible, breathing a little heavier and in an immeasurable amount of discomfort. Yet he got up, excusing it; after all, he and Al were just going to do some research. Hawkeye and Mustang decided to drop them off since they already were headed near there.

But after he got into the car, a sinking feeling was in his stomach and crawling up his throat.

Edward's eyes focus back onto Riza's face. She frowns, "how are you feeling?" She says as she presses the back of her hand against his forehead. Ed hates how he leans into it.

"Fine," he answers, but Riza doesn't buy it. She pushes him back into his seat, "you're going back to your inn." She says.

"No- I'm fine!"

Al interrupts, "you're obviously not!"

"He's right, y'know?" Hawkeye speaks up, "you're burning up."

Ed sighs, and Riza shuts the door before going back to the driver's seat. It's once again silent as she turns on the car. Mustang is very quiet, and honestly, Ed is thankful for that.

With the rumble of the engine starting up, he leans his forehead against the cold window. His hot breath fogs up the window, and he pouts.

He hates being sick.