The Multiblood Alchemist

Procedure

       My ears ring. My head aches, and I can't move my arm. Suddenly, my eyes fly open and a moment of panic sets in. I wriggle around trying to move my arm, but I can't feel it move. No matter how much I look, the arm is still there. I then think back to the fight with Gluttony and Lust. "What is this?" I mutter in shock. The doorknob jiggles, and I look up.
      Ed walks into the room with a short elderly woman, and a tall blonde girl. "Glad to see you're up," he says in a non enthusiastic tone.

"Sorry I couldn't lead up to you're expectations," I snarl as I stare at the ceiling.

"Well someone woke up friendly," he mutters as he walks to my bedside. The girl follows him and stands next to him. I roll my head towards them and glare at Ed. "What do you want anyway?" I ask. Ed and the girl look at each other with a look of concern. Ed then breaks the news to me.
        "Um...... Cassandra. Remember that whole fight with Lust and Gluttony?" I nod, my lips pursed. "Well, when she, as in Lust, smashed your head against the ground......" He trails off. The girl looks at him and sharply exhales. I'm already annoyed with her. "Paralysis. You were paralyzed," she finishes for him.
      I stare at them, dumbfounded. "You have two options," Ed begins. "You can A.) Stop working with the military and go home, or B.) Have a procedure done so your arm is replaced by an automail arm," he finishes. I think about the options. Either I stop trying to do everything I have to do, or I put up with "it", as in the girl. I think hard for a few minutes, and come to a conclusion. "I guess I'll get the automail," I begrudgingly answer.
     "Is this really necessary?" I nervously ask. The girl nods, obviously filled with hatred. My head falls against the medical table beneath me. I nervously twist my good hand underneath my restraints. The leather belt bites my wrist. I then try to move my ankles only to have the same result. "Feels like I'm about to be tortured," I mumble. The girl looks at me with a 'what did you just say?' Look on her face. I roll my eyes and turn away from her.
     The procedure would take a while, and this is how Ed explained it to me. I would be awake considering I can't feel pain in my arm. It, as in the girl again, would cut it off (gruesome, I know. I feel like I should've retired...), and replace it with automail. "You should be fine if you close your eyes," Ed had said before I punched him in the mouth. Yep, Cassandra Serene Snare had socked the Fullmetal Alchemist himself right in the gob.
      "Ready?" It says in a fake cheerful tone. I grit my teeth and mutter something foul about her. "What was that?" It asks.

"I said 'just get it over with'," I lie. There was no way I was repeating what I just said about her to her face.
      "Alright, let's get started," she says. I squeeze my eyes shut at the sound of a bone saw being pulled out. As Ed had said, I don't feel a thing. I only hear the sickening sound of a saw passing through my bone. Nausea overcomes me, and I have to swallow to keep myself from vomiting.
       "How's it going?" Ed questions as he walks in. His face instantly pales. "Looks...... Great," he says. I can tell he's trying not to puke or pass out. Or both. A bead of sweat runs down my forehead as It wraps a bandaged around my stump. Her motions are jerky as she mutters something about a waste of medical supplies. "What was that?" I ask, mocking her. It rolls it's eyes and continues to work.
      "And down you go. Easy," Ed coaxes as he helps me into a wheelchair. I can feel the girl's eyes boring into my skull. Once I settle into the chair, Ed starts to push me down a hall. "Who is that?" I ask abruptly. He awkwardly glances at a wall and stares at it as we journey through Central Command. "Um, that is my automail mechanic, Winry," he replies. I focus on his face as he pushes me down the hall. I hear footsteps, and I turn around.
      "Fullmetal," a familiar voice calls out. Ed tenses up and rigidly turns around. "Colonel," he responds. I see Mustang's face crane around Ed's shoulders to see who he's pushing. "Hey," I casually say as I look at the tiled floor. "Multiblood, what happened?" Mustang asks.
      "Well, you see, um, I kinda encountered two homunculi, and it went downhill," I say while wiggling my stump. He doesn't say anything, and I crane my neck towards Ed. "To adventure?" I awkwardly ask while pointing forward as if I were leading troops into battle. I hope he gets the hint that I want out of there.
      "Fullmetal, I have to give something to her," Mustang calls as Ed starts to bail me out of there. He stops and Mustang leans down to my level. "Here. It was Mason's," he says as he places Mason's pocket watch into my palm. I rub my thumb over the intricate design of the dragon. I choke out a small thanks, and we roll away from the Colonel.
      "Alright, you have to sleep upright so you don't open the wound again," Ed instructs as he lays me into bed. "My legs aren't crippled, just my arm," I say while waving my stump in his face. He lightly pushes it away and pulls the covers over my lap. He then leaves the room, and I look at the ceiling. Why did I get myself into this? I'm pulled out of my thought when the doorknob jiggles, and Ed walks in. "What are you doing?" I ask. He throws a blanket and pillow onto the ground beside my bed. I shimmy over to the edge of the bed and look down on him. "Aren't you going to be uncomfortable?" I ask. He replies with a 'nah', and he closes his eyes. Since sleeping looks so nice right now, I also close my eyes.
      The memory of Mason's death replays in my head, switching from his point of view, Envy's point of view, and my point if view. No matter what view I was in, my legs were glued to the ground as the blade went through my chest or Mason's blood ran down my arm. I can't take anymore, and I wake up, hyperventilating.
      "Cassandra!" Ed whispers, concern dripping in his voice. "I'm fine," I respond while wiping sweat from my forehead. "Nightmare?" Ed asks. I weakly nod. "Think you can sleep again?" I shake my head as I press my palm against my forehead. The bed goes lopsided as he lays next to me. I look at him with a confused look on my face. "Well, we can't have you be sleep deprived. Sleep helps with the healing," he says. I smile and lay back down, resting my head against his real arm. He plays with the small strands of my hair. As dumb as it is, it lulls me to sleep.