Ed entered the kitchen and found Al and Winry laughing softly at some shared joke. Ed instantly felt angry and frowned at himself. He stomped over to the teapot and began to pour some into a cup.
"The coffee's over here, Ed." Winry called as she indicated the larger coffeepot on the table.
"If I'd wanted coffee, I would've gotten it, Winry." He growled at her as he added two spoonfuls of sugar to his black tea. He swiped a slice of toast from the table but two bites had him tossing it into the bin. He craved something sweeter so he grabbed the jam and slathered it thickly over another slice of toast.
"You can't just waste food like that Ed." Winry told him. "And you need something more than just toast."
"I'm fine with this." Ed replied coldly, inwardly battling a rising tide of irrational anger.
"Don't be silly, Ed. There's plenty here and…"
"I don't want any." Ed interrupted her. He finished the toast and took a large mouthful of the tea.
"I'll make something else for you then," she said, smiling as she got up from the table and approached him.
"Forget it, Winry. I'm not interested." Ed snapped at her. Why can't she just leave me alone he thought.
"Are you ok, Ed?" Winry asked and she grinned as pulled out the wrench from her pocket. "Don't worry, we'll soon fix it." She chirped at him, trying to lift his mood.
Ed felt his whole body twitch and he reached over and snatched the wrench from her hand. They stared at each other for a long moment, Ed's eyes burning with the increasing irritation he felt.
He tossed the wrench on the table and said "If you wave that at me one more time Winry, I will shove it so far up your …"
"Sister!" came the scandalised shout of his brother.
Ed looked at Al and wondered why his brother didn't automatically know what was wrong with him before turning and leaving the kitchen. Al and Winry gaped at each other while Pinako looked puzzled.
As the day progressed he got worse. He couldn't even concentrate on his reading. He isolated himself in his room and then blamed them all for leaving him alone. Al came up and tried to smooth things over and was turned away with "fuck off Al, it's not your fault she's a bitch." He couldn't sit still and shifted from place to place. He had two more hot showers and more jam toast for lunch. His shoulder hurt and his head felt muzzy and his lower back began to ache. When his lower back pain decided to migrate into his lower belly and tie his intestines into knots he found himself chewing on his metal fingers. Ed was ready to fight with his shadow and he would have welcomed it. When Al refused to return to their room and told Ed he was sleeping downstairs until "you're ready to apologise, Sister" Ed snarled at him and crawled back under his blankets and rocked to the pulsing knots in his stomach.
Finally, after everyone had gone to bed he went and stood under the shower again. His hands pressed against the tiles and his head hung down. Today had been such a pig of a day and he knew it was his fault but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't remember ever being this emotionally unstable. He couldn't remember ever feeling this out of sorts with his body. His eyes watered up before he even realised he was going to cry. He slammed his hands into the wall and heard the tiles crack as his shoulder protested. He lowered his head further, placing it directly under the water and let his tears mingle with the hot water. Dammit … he wanted to stop crying … he wanted chocolate.
The sight of blood didn't register at first. Ed had seen enough of it either splattered around him or coming from him to be unfazed by this thin red line on the tiles below him. He automatically turned his head to look at his throbbing shoulder thinking it the most obvious place before he realised that the blood wasn't coming from his arm but from his leg.
He stood frozen in place. His eyes followed the blood trail, backtracking visually up his legs to the place between. He almost hoped the blood came from above that point but it didn't and his knees almost gave way. Deep breaths, Ed, deep breaths he told himself. This is not the time to panic Ed, you know the drill, you've done this before, you have to stop the bleeding and you need something to apply pressure with. Ed looked wildly around the bathroom and lurched from the shower recess to grab a handful of toilet paper and balled it in his hand before pressing it between his legs. He waited a few moments and then tentatively pulled the paper away. It was wet with water and blood so he replaced it with more paper. He tried to keep his breathing slow and even but he could feel his pulse racing and his hands were shaking.