Fanfiction is such a glorious thing. I can express myself artistically, without anyone judging me, except those damn trolls….Anyways, I've started yet another fic that is never going to be completed. And I have football practice all summer, so don't go expecting me to work on this non-stop.

___________

I stared at the trees as they went rushing by. I stared at the plains, at the deer grazing and the mountains in the distance. I shifted my head and rested it against the glass. I decided to think about all that is going to happen.

I forgot all of my life. I forgot everything. The only thing I can remember is my name. Vincent. I have no home, I have no family. That's why I stowed away on this train. I'm heading out to Risembool. The only things that I have with me are a gun and some clothes. I leaned against the windowpane and tried to get some sleep. I could feel someone watching me, but I didn't really care, as I drifted off into the endless wonder of darkness.

______________

I awoke to the sound of the train screeching to a stop. I stood up, while it was still moving, and grabbed my satchel and walked over to the rear exit. Before the train had even stopped moving, I opened the door, and jumped out.

I rolled as soon as I hit the ground, narrowly avoiding breaking my legs. I stood up, brushed myself off, and stepped up onto the platform, ignoring the insane stares people were giving me. Though, I couldn't really blame them, I did look like a boot camp escapee. I had been wearing combat boots, dark green cargo pants, a black shirt, and a black ski-cap, tilted so it covers my left eye and most of the left of my face above my mouth. But I could feel something sliding down the right side of my face.

I wiped my hand across my face, and I looked at what I found; blood. I wiped it onto my pants and started hurrying past the other passengers. This was the real reason I came. I came seeking out the famous Hoenheim Elric. I have some kind of disease; it's eating away at my internal tissues. The blood on my face had just burst from my temple. 'Damnit, why now…'

I decided staying there wasn't going to help my situation, so I started hurrying out of the station. I have to say something though. There is another reason for coming out to Risembool; I'm being followed by something. Something powerful and dangerous. I've only seen it twice, and I know it won't hurt me, but something about it just makes me shiver.

It can't touch me, or even get near me, for some reason. The first time I saw it was about two years ago. I was running down some back alleys, trying to escape from a local gang. I saw a streak of black and red; I spun around, and saw a panther-like creature tear through the gang. It's eyes were a glowing a vibrant red as the crimson rained down upon it.

At first I thought it was going to kill me, but then it just up and left, but it had dropped something at my feet; a gun.

The second time I saw it, I had been attacked by some psycho with metal arms. He had me against an alley wall, but when he tried to grip me by my throat, his arm had completely shattered before it touched me. His other arm shattered. Then he fell to the ground, and started vomiting blood. I just high-tailed it out of there before I saw it, but already knew.

At first, I thought it was like my guardian angel. I realized that if it were, it wouldn't have mercilessly killed those people. It had to be some kind of demon, or monster. But it protected me, which didn't fit the profile of a monster or demon, so just what was it?

That aside, I had to get to Elric fast, I knew my body wouldn't hold out for long. I shoved people out of my way as soon as I felt blood boiling up my throat. I sprinted down the gravel road, it crunching under my boots. And just as soon as I hit the main, dirt road, I keeled over, blood spewing out of my mouth and nostrils.

I forced myself off the ground, and started trudging down the road again.

I think I blacked out, because I don't remember running anymore, until I got to a fairly large house on top of a hill, a vast expanse of plains on one side, a forest on two others. I ran up to the front door, and started slamming on it, screaming for help.

A young, blonde boy, about my age, answered the door. When he saw my face and blood on my body, he started shouting for his mother.

A split second later, a fairly young, brunette woman came running. Just as she came up to me I managed to garble out a sentence.

"Where-where is…where is Hoenheim?", and after that, I vomited blood again, and blacked out.

_________________

I awoke to the sound of a young boy's voice. I cracked my eyes open and saw a pair of golden orbs gazing into my eyes.

"Why do your eyes look like blood?" was the first thing he had said to me.

I managed to cough out a laugh, before that young woman from earlier scolded the boy and told me to take it easy. She then asked me if I was okay.

"I'm fine, really. But, I don't know why my eyes are like this…I'm sorry; I never caught your name." Apparently, these people had never seen someone talk so casually after they just vomited blood and passed out.

The boy sat up in his chair and said, "Hi, my name is Edward Elric, and this is my mom, Trisha Elric, what's your name?"

I just laughed a little, laid back down, and managed out, "Heh, check my tags."

The woman and boy were slightly confused by this, so I reached into my shirt, much to my discomfort, and pulled out a set of dog-tags. I pulled them off, and handed them to the woman.

She looked them over and tried pronouncing my name. "Vincent, Ton-Tanay-Tanoi? But the last part is scratched off?"

I cut her off, "Tah-nah-ee, but please don't ever call me by that. And the scratched off one has just been like that, as long as I can remember…"

She gave me a funny look. "But why in the world would a child have military issued dog-tags?" she asked.

"Heh, guess I'm another dog of the military, or rather, a 'pup' of the military." I joked a little; they didn't really take to it.

The woman just looked at me, and frowned. She pressed her hand against my forehead, and then grabbed a small vial of a dresser. She opened it, handed it to me and told me to drink it.

I eyed it, then her, then the juice again. I shrugged my shoulders and downed the whole glass in one big gulp.

When I was done, Ed's jaw seemed almost ready to fall off, and the woman's eyes seemed to be popping out of the sockets.

"Yum", I said. I honestly have to say it tasted good, compared to what I've eaten.

"Y-you shouldn't be able to drink that without at least gagging." She said.

"Heh, I've lived in the gutter, you learn to keep things down."

At the gutter remark, she seemed a little angry. "Gutter? What, did your parents-"

"I don't have any parents." I spat before she could finish. I turned away and looked out the open window, at the forests, and the mountains in the distance. "At least, I don't remember them…" I stared at my reflection off of one of the panels. I saw the bandages lacing my head and my chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it." She seemed kind of sad at that, but then she reached down next to the bed and pulled up my satchel.

I snatched at the second I saw it. I frantically opened it and went through it. As soon as I saw what I was looking for, I calmed down a little. I grabbed the gun, and started to trace my fingers over the designs etched into the barrel.

"Care to explain the gun?" she asked, a little agitated and curious.

"I…found it. It was kind of dangerous in Central, y'know? Didn't wanna go without it." I grabbed at the back of my neck and laughed nervously, trying to keep the subject from my condition.

"Well…I just want to know one more thing, Vincent. Why did you show up on my doorstep looking for my husband?"

"Rumors. I heard rumors that he could fix me. That, and…I wanted to learn alchemy from him…" I just kept staring out the window, a sad expression most likely creeping across my face.

"I'm very sorry to tell you this but…My husband has been gone for years. But why in the world would you want to learn alchemy? It's such a dangerous thing!" I turned and met with a pair of chocolate brown eyes.

I turned away from her eyes. "I know this sounds stupid, but I keep thinking that, if I join the State, then I might be able to find my parents. I know they're in the military, but…

"Anyways. I also heard rumors of a stone. It was made by alchemy, and had the ability to heal devastating debilitations. But I also heard that only the most skilled of alchemists even have the potential to create a replica of the stone, let alone the real one. But, since Hoenheim isn't here…I guess I'll be on my way-"

"No!" And the last person I would even suspect of trying to cut me off was that boy, Ed. "So what if Dad isn't here! I could teach you alchemy!" I swore I could see anger behind his eyes, but hey, I'm a pessimist.

"Kid, how old are you? Six, six-and-a-half? I doubt you know, let alone could teach, alchemy. I'll just go look for someone back in Central, maybe get a job…"

"I know alchemy, and I AM TEN, DARNIT!" After his little anger spat, he seemed to get calm very fast.

"Vincent, Ed and his brother Al, they're very good at alchemy. Please, maybe they could teach you." The woman asked.

I mulled it over quickly, then grumbled "Fine, but I do have one question, are there any-GUH!" I sprawled forward on the bed, my hand latching onto my right shoulder. I felt blood stream from a gash that had ripped itself open. Ed and Trisha gasped, then started freaking out. Ed pushed a towel onto the gash, trying to stop it. Trisha picked up a phone and frantically called someone.

I just sat there, clutching my arm, until I felt the sweet embrace of darkness.

_________________

I awoke to the ice cold feel of metal against my skin. I sat straight up and looked at the source of my discomfort. My arm. My arm was metal.

I knew that my limbs would be eaten away sooner or later, and my arm had been paining me for some time, but I didn't expect this to happen for a few more years. I traced over the metal joints and bolts in my arm.

I held my metal arm up, straightened it foreword, and flexed it. I twisted it this way and that way, then held it up to the light shining in from a window.

I heard someone open the door, a slight creak, barely audible. I called out, "Hello? Who's there?"

I heard a little eep, the sound of a young girl being surprised. And as I guessed, a young girl, maybe around my age, stepped into view. A bit shorter than me, I could tell, bleach blonde hair, and cerulean colored eyes. What was weird was, she had a wrench in her hand and grease stains on her forearms.

"Um, hi, I just came in to check your automail…Could you hold your arm up?" She seemed kind of shy, but I'd guess that's just because I'm new to her.

I held up my metal arm, now dubbed 'automail'. She started doing random things, checking bolts, screws, nuts, then she started asked me to flex, pick something up, do a push-up. After she was done, she muttered something about 'shouldn't be able to adjust so quickly', and told me that Mrs. Elric was waiting for me outside.

I got up, grabbed my satchel, which was conveniently placed next to me, and headed out the door. I walked into a simple living room; a couch, table, shelves. I saw Trisha, Ed, and a boy who looked like Ed, but with shorter hair and a more timid look, who I assumed to be Al, all sitting on the couch, apparently waiting for me.

I just leaned against the wall nervously, put on an awkward smile, and said, "Uh, hi."

Trisha immediately leapt up and hugged me, apparently very worried. I could hear her tears silently streaming down her face.

"Uh, I'm not dead. Yet. And I'm not going to die for a while." I said, trying to comfort her. She seemed a little relieved at my words. She grabbed Ed and the other boy on the couch and ushered them out, probably taking them back to her place.

"Vincent, please stay here for a few days, I'm sure the Rockbells want to check you over a few more times. When they're done, please come down the road to my house. It's just up the path to the right." She said as she stepped out of the house.

And then someone shattered what should have been a nice moment. Somebody said something that would've shattered my heart, had I still had a whole one.

"Kid, you shouldn't lie to her like tha, you're half dead already. I'm surprised you can even function still. At the rate the flesh is deteriorating, without treatment, you'll be dead in about three months." I turned, and I saw a girl, definitely about my age, with black hair barely reaching her shoulders. She was about my height, a little shorter I guess. Her eyes were a dark color, but I couldn't tell because it was pretty dark in the room.

"And how would little-miss know this information?" I asked.

She seemed to fume at my comment, and her face went up in fire. "One, my name is not 'Little-miss', its Kayla! And two, "she seemed to withdraw a little, "I know this because my parents were doctors."

"Yeeesh, okay, okay. Kayla, but why didn't your parents say it instead, if they're the doctors who treated me?"

She seemed a little less angry, but angry all the same. "Dead," she spat venomously, "died in Ishbal." I grew up on the street, ignorant of everything, but even I knew about the massacres of Ishbal.

"Oh. How?" I asked.

Even with her voice as hard and bitter as it was, I could sense the hurt and pain resonating from her words. "They were killed by an Amestrian soldier. A State Alchemist."

"I'm sorry for what happened to them." I said, one of the few times I've actually been kind to someone. Partially because of what I know what loss is like, and partially for my obsession with joining the State.

She sighed, and turned back toward me. "Look, this is none of your concern. What should be your concern is trying to prolong your life. You have a very, very rare disease, one that makes your cells attack themselves. Your arm was just the start. I might be able to help, but…I can't make any promises, but I think I can help you."

She grabbed my arm, and dragged me into the next room. There were about twenty bookcases stuffed to the brim with texts. She snagged one and started flipping through it. As she neared the middle, she started muttering to herself. "No…no…here it is. You have something called 'The Philosophers' Curse'…It's cause is unknown, but is always seen in people who…have excellent alchemical talents…It says that the average life-span of a carrier is 19 years, with treatment, without, around 11. No known cure, but there is a treatment. It's made of...Mandrake root, Ginseng, Black tea leaf, Foxglove nectar, and…Belladonna root extract."

I laughed a little. "So to fix this poison, I have to take another? That's just ironic. Too bad I already knew all of this." She dropped the book, and stared at me for a minute, her right eye twitching. She grabbed a wrench off the counter, and smacked it across my head. "Sonuva-what was that for?!" I screamed at her, cradling my head.

"For making me feel like an idiot!" She crossed her arms, and walked out of the room, muttering something about stubborn idiots. I picked up the book she dropped, and slid it back on the shelf. I started browsing through the shelfcases, looking at all the volumes they had.

"Hey! You want to eat or not?" I heard Kayla call from the other room. I could smell the food, and I realized just how hungry I was. I stopped my browsing, and rushed into the kitchen. There were three bowls set on the table, Kayla was eating out of one, and that other girl was eating out of another. I sat down at the open seat, grabbed my bowl, and dug in.

____________________________

A/N: Okay, so I kind of rushed it at the end...But I wrote most of this RIGHT after football practice, so I was sore, and just wanted to get this done. I'll try to continue this one, because this is actually the first story that I ever wrote, I just never got around to publishing it.