Okay, so Shortest Straw isn't officially on hiatus, but I've decided to take a little break from it and write something else. First, I should probably get a few things straight.
This is a very strange thing.
Ed went over the Gate, but didn't go to Germany.
He came to America in the modern day, in New Jersey.
He doesn't have automail.
Something happened with his aging process, and suddenly he's thirteen again. (don't ask how I came up with this)
He's trying to figure out how to get back.
He can still do alchemy.
I hope you like this.
Summary: You can't miss what you don't remember.
I don't own FMA, but I own this plot and most of the characters. Ed, I do not, and several Alter people will be introduced most likely. Have fun reading.
Chapter One
The moment Ed woke up, he knew something was wrong. There was no wind when he'd been transmuting Al. Also, he highly doubted he'd end up on something soft. Because whatever he was lying on didn't feel like cold stone floor in the slightest. It felt like a bed. Not a particularly comfortable bed, but a bed nonetheless. It was then that he realized he wasn't breathing. Quickly, he took a deep breath, trying to get in as much air as possible, but ended up wheezing instead. He coughed. Why it hurt so badly? Now that he was fully aware, he realized that his entire body felt bad, like he'd just been tortured or something. He struggled to open his eyes. Why couldn't he? This was absolutely infuriating. He tried again. It didn't work. Instead he tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat. That also didn't work. What the fuck? He tried to move his arm, his right arm, and the fingers twitched. Wait—was his automail gone?
A smile split across his face. (Well, at least that moved) He tried to sit up. He had to tell Al, had to see that he was back, had to—
The transmutation. Did that work? He struggled to get up, but his body wouldn't cooperate. What if Al was gone again? What if he turned out looking like Mom? Ribs open, eyes bulging, looking but not seeing, a heartbeat that could be seen? The image, the thought, and the memory of Mom merged into one and he felt his heart stop. Next thing he knew, he was sitting straight up, hand clutching to chest as it heaved up and down, the finished scream dying on his lips. Someone ran in next to him and he jumped, almost tumbling out of bed. The woman was dressed in a white doctor's uniform, meaning that this was a hospital, but she didn't look like anyone he knew. So this wasn't Central or East City. Some random town?
"Y-you're awake!" the woman said, sounding about as shocked as he felt. A cough tore from his mouth before he could answer, causing his entire frame to shake. The woman next to him looked like she was about to have a panic attack. "Easy, kid, easy." He wasn't a kid…
He looked up to her, eyes tired. It felt like he'd been asleep for weeks, years maybe. What had the Gate…done…to…
Crap. For a moment, he'd forgotten what he'd used as Equivalent Exchange. To get his brother back, he'd ask to be brought over to the other side. And if that worked, that meant that he wasn't in Amestris anymore; he was a different world. The thought hit him hard, like a slap to his face, like a knife to his heart, but he told himself to just go with it now. He was in a strange world which he knew nothing about.
"W-where am I?" he asked, voice weaker than he would have liked. It felt like someone had stuffed a cloth down his throat and his ears were ringing. His head hurt and willed himself not to look down. If it was a hospital, he knew the amount needles in his arms must he frightening. And Ed hated needles.
"Valley Hospital, in New Jersey," she answered and hit a button next to his bed. Probably to call for a doctor. "How long have you been up?"
"Five second before you—" He broke off into another coughing fit. "Before you came in," he finished.
He looked up as footsteps entered the room and saw another doctor in the doorway, staring at him with shock. "You're awake!" he said. Ed sighed; this was getting old.
"What happened?" He went to rub his eyes, but the girl doctor put her arm across them to stop the movement. He looked at her, confused.
"Jesus Christ, kid, you're a medical miracle," the guy said without answering his question. "You've been in a coma for a month. It was surprising enough that you were alive, but to have woken up…You've flat lined a few times." Ed's eyes widened. A coma? People didn't suddenly wake up from one of those. What did the Gate do to him? "Jane, talk to him. I have to call Detective Ryan. He and his partner are going to have a field day over this." He left, still mumbling to himself. Detective? What did they need a detective for? Why didn't he remember what happened after the Gate threw him out? Questions, there were way too many questions.
"What's your name?" Jane asked gently.
"Edward Elric, the—" He cut himself off. Adding 'The Fullmetal Alchemist" probably wouldn't go over too well. "C-call me Ed." She nodded.
"How about your age?"
Sixteen should've been the answer, but something told him it wasn't. It was like the Gate had put information into his head, but was only revealing it a little at a time, like a road in the dark when all you had was a lantern to show the way. Irrationally, he felt anger, thinking 'why me?', but reminded himself that if Al was okay, it was all worth it. But if Al wasn't okay…he cut the thought off before it could form.
"Thirteen," he answered and pulled his knees to his chest. Jane didn't stop the move this time.
"When's your birthday?"
"February third."
"What are your parents' names?" He went to go and answer, but stopped himself. They wouldn't exist in this world. According to his dad when he ended up in England, everyone had a counterpart, but that didn't mean they would know him.
"I don't remember," he lied, knowing it was better than saying anything else. Jane nodded.
"Do you remember what happened when you were in the woods?" she asked. The woods? Why would he be in the woods of all places? Oh hell, he should roll with it.
He shook his head.
"Where you're from?"
Another shake of the head.
"I called Detective Ryan. He's on his way." the doctor said as he entered the room, walking over to Ed's bedside. "I'm Dr. Anderson, and this is Dr. DeFreeze, a nurse here at the hospital. Can you tell me your name?"
"I already asked that," she answered for him. "His name is Edward Elric, he's thirteen, and he can't remember who his parents are or what happened in the woods." Ed just looked down at his knees. Hospitals smelled like disinfectant. He hated hospitals.
"Why do you need a detective?" Ed asked, making sure his bangs were covering his face. As much as he'd tried not to, he'd started to cry. And sure, his voice had cracked, but it'd been doing that the entire time. He hoped they wouldn't notice.
There was a pause, then Dr. Anderson finally said, "We'll let him explain it to you. Along with everything else." There was more? "For now, though, we have to do a checkup. It's not every day someone wakes up from a coma and acts like he's in perfect shape physically." Ed felt a stab of annoyance at the 'physically'.
It took half an hour for them to check everything and proclaim him fine (physically). But now he could tell what they meant when they said it was surprising he was alive; there was a scar where Envy had stabbed him through the chest and it was an angry red, like it hadn't fully healed yet. He had wounds like everywhere, all from the day he'd disappeared. Besides that, it was just the normal, everyday scars he always had. He glanced at his right arm and almost smiled. The scar he'd gotten from the fox was there again. And, strangely enough, there were the scars he'd gotten from his automail surgery, too. His left leg looked the same way, and his knees still had the bumpy look that most people's knees got from falling down as a kid and scraping them. It was odd, seeing that on his left leg.
The two doctors left as two new people walked in, going to submit a test for something they hadn't explained to him. They said it would take weeks.
"Hi, Ed, I'm Detective Ryan and this is my partner Detective Markov," a man with a pair of jeans, a normal tee-shirt and a gun said as he motioned to a girl next to him. She was dressed in a similar manner. They didn't look like detectives. When he though detectives, he thought Intelligence, which meant he thought Hughes, and they didn't look for them. Ed never thought in his life that he would miss the Amestris blue and gold.
"Hey," she greeted. "We have a few questions for you, but don't worry, you aren't in trouble." She pulled up a chair and turned around, sitting on it backwards. He pulled his knees to his chest again and coughed, trying to figure out what to answer and what not to.
"Okay," he said quietly. He found that talking any louder hurt his throat. Dr. Anderson told him that it was to be expected, seeing that he hadn't spoken in a month, but it would go away quickly. Ed was incredibly thankful for this.
Detective Ryan pulled up a chair. "You have to understand here the kind of situation we're in." Ed nodded. "Since we didn't know who you were and therefore didn't know the name of your parents, we took a DNA sample and the forensics lab ran it through their computer. You didn't come up. Before we came here, Dr. Anderson told us your name and age. We ran that through the computer too."
"What?" Computers? What were those?
"It's like you came out of nowhere, Ed," Markov answered. "We ran the name Elric through the system. We got no one. We've had your picture all over the internet, on the back on milk cartons in schools…if I didn't know any better, I would say you didn't exist. No one knows someone of your description. And we haven't seen anyone with your eye color either."
"Oh?" This was making his head hurt. Of course they wouldn't find him; he'd only been for as long as he'd been in the coma. And what was the internet? Ugh, this was irritating. He was the kind of person who hated it when not knowing thing. "I really don't remember who they are. I don't know how I got into this coma either."
Ryan sighed. "There's a serial killer around this area. Not directly, more near Southern Jersey, near the Pine Barons, but we've been wondering when he'd come up here for a while now. No one's survived from him yet. A group of friends were hiking up in the woods when they saw you a little off the trail. Luckily they were high up enough to get cell phone reception or you probably wouldn't be here. You'd been knocked out cold and it looked like someone had attacked you. From the way you were cut, it follows the man's pattern. The only problem with this is that he normally goes after women and generally they're twenty-five and older. He's never gone after someone as young as you before, and definitely not a boy. So you've got to tell us: Do you remember anything?"
Cuts up women? Sounded like Barry the Chopper. If everyone had a counterpart, it was a possibility. He shook his head; even if it was, he didn't know enough about this world and he didn't want to get involved.
"Nothing?" Markov asked.
"Nothing," he answered. "I don't remember much of anything until about an hour ago. I don't even remember my parents."
Markov groaned as Ryan said, "Just try to think up something. It doesn't just have to be your parents. You remember how to speak and remember your name and age. That's a good start." Ed sighed; screw it, he was lying, even if it gave them a false lead. These two would probably drill him until they got some kind of answer.
"I think someone asked me to get something from the butcher's," he answered, staring straight at the wall ahead of him so he didn't have to look at their faces. "But after that I don't remember anything. Besides that, I remember hating milk, loving stew, and studying science as often as I could."
"Where was the butcher's shop? And do you remember where you went to school?"
Ed shook his head. "I don't know. I'm sorry, but I really don't."
"Do you remember anything else about yourself? We need to find your parents."
"I-I think they're dead," he said. "I think. I don't remember how. Or they might be alive, but I don't think so. I really don't remember. I can't even tell what they look like."
"Fuck," Ryan said. "Then who was taking care of you? Where were you from? Who asked you to go to the store? Are you from around here?"
"I really don't know," he answered. "Really, I don't. It could be England or here in New Jersey or somewhere else."
"Adam, stop. You're scaring him." Markov looked worried. He hoped he got the country name England right, because that's what his dad said that place he ended up before was called. Maybe. Well, they weren't having a reaction to the name, so even if it was wrong, it couldn't be too bad. "His heart rate's gone up."
"Sorry, Ed. Calm down. You've been really helpful. We'll run your information through again and see if anything comes up. If it doesn't, we'll find out what to do about where you'll live, okay? For now, we're going to call the doctor back in." Ed nodded. "Sadie, stay here. I'm going to go find Anderson and tell him some of what we learned."
"Okay," she answered as he left. She turned back to him. "So, kid, remember anything else you like to do?" Now he felt like was getting talked down to. He hated been treated like a kid, let alone being called one.
"I liked to play cards," he said. "And cats, and studying, but I don't remember ever paying attention in class when I was little." Yeah, because he hadn't been to school since he was eleven. He hesitated. He couldn't say alchemy. "And everything else I just did." He looked away again. There was silence in the room.
"I'm really sorry." Her voice was soft. He wasn't expecting that. Even so, he didn't look back at her. She reminded him a bit too much of Maria Ross, his body guard who ended up saving him from Laboratory 5, even if she looked nothing like her.
"It's not your fault," he answered. "And you can't miss what you can't remember, right? I'm okay." The logic there was true enough, but not always. Lust missed what she couldn't remember. She wanted to be human. Vaguely, he wondered if she was okay. She turned out to be different than the others, betrayed them and helped him and his brother instead.
And he did remember, so there were things to miss, such as the way his brother's voice sounded, or the way Hawkeye's hand was always ready to touch the gun, how Breda was afraid of dogs, how Falman was too professional, Roy's smirk that always infuriated him so much and the way he looked when he smiled, the way Fuery acted like such a coward, how Havoc smoked like a chimney. He remembered how awkward Denny Bosch acted and how Ross hugged him to snap him out of. He missed Sig's scary face, Teacher's somewhat evil but still caring personality, Rose's smile, Pinako's attitude towards life, the way Winry looked when she was smiling and the way the sun touched her hair. He missed Mom. But he'd given it all up, all for Al, so it was okay. He could miss them and he'd look for a way back. But at least Al would be all right and that was what mattered in the end.
"I hope this turns out all right," she said. "And I don't know whether or not we'll be talking to you again, but here's my card if you remember something. Don't bother with the work line; my cell phone number is underneath. Ring that instead, okay?" He nodded, and accepted the card, even though he wasn't sure what a cell phone was. The doctor entered again.
"See you later," he said. She ruffled his hair the way he used to mess up Al's. Normally he would've minded, but right now he was too tired to care.
"Bye, kid."
"Thanks, Ed."
And they left.
"So what'd think?" Adam said as the entered the car to drive back to Sadie's house. They would call Kingsley from there and give him the report. He wouldn't mind if it wasn't face to face.
"The kid's was a fucking saint," she answered, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it. She rolled down the window. They pulled out onto the highway. "He might not've been able to tell us much, but that butcher lead's going to help us. And for someone who woke that quickly from a month long coma was pretty lucky to be able to function that normally."
"I wanna keep tabs on him, whether he remembers something or not. I have a feeling this killer won't go after him again, but even so…"
"Better to be safe than sorry."
"Yeah." Sadie leaned down a fiddled with the radio. She stopped on 104.3. She always was a sucker for classic rock. 'Eleanor Rigby' was playing. She didn't know all the words, so she just hummed along.
"So you think he'll be all right?" she asked, reclining back against the seat, taking another drag from the cigarette.
"I hope so. But damn, why aren't there any records of him? How can no one know who he is, his DNA not come up, finger prints not match, name not match with anyone's, and have an eye color that shouldn't exist that still doesn't point us in the right direction?" He beeped his horn as some guy in a red Ford Torus cut him off. "Bastard."
Sadie sighed. "I know we have to try, but I really don't think we'll find something. We better start thinking about living arrangements for him."
"Think we should put him into foster care or an orphanage?" he asked. "It's only choice we have."
"I don't think that'll work," she answered, shaking her head and taking another drag. "I don't think he'll work well with a lot of people, especially kids his own age who'll get nosy and never shut up. He didn't look at us once. I know he just woke up and his memory's shot, but I was getting the feeling he wasn't too social."
"You figured all that out in forty-five minutes?" Sadie nodded. She'd taken a profiling course back in college, when she was planning on majoring in psychology instead of crime. Passed with top marks. "Okay, so if you don't think that'll work, what do you think we should do? He'll still have to be sent to school. You know that, right?"
Once again, Sadie nodded. "Yeah, I know, but I don't think he should be with more than one or two people outside of it, so he has a break. I don't want to see him have a panic attack or something. He's only thirteen and he's already going through this. Oh goddamn, how the hell did he manage to survive that? Stabbed through the chest. It should've blown his heart, but it came out completely unaffected."
"Yeah, I know. Ridiculous, right?" He slammed on the brakes when they reached a traffic light. That turned red faster than necessary. "I still feel bad for group who found him. Anyway, so do you have a specific family in mind?"
"No, not yet. If we can't find anyone, I was thinking of asking if I could take him."
"Are you serious?" The light turned green. Some David Bowe song came on. She didn't know the name.
"Why not? Think I can't do it? Besides, my house is pretty huge for just one and a half people to live in."
"I'm the half, aren't I?"
" 'Course. You don't officially live with me, but you might as well." She flicked the finished cigarette bud out a window. The sign above said 'Montclair 2 miles'. Good, they were almost home. "But what do you think? Sure, I'll have to play Mom and you'll have to play the retarded uncle, but I think I could manage."
"You aren't too good with kids and who said I was retarded?"
"Me obviously, and I think I could deal with him. He doesn't seem evil like most teenage boys."
"You don't know that for sure."
"It's a pretty good guess."
"You're way too good at those. I want pizza, so order."
"What kind? And I don't know, I feel bad for him. I don't want him to be alone, so I'm willing. A lot of our work is at home and on late days, I'm sure Kingsley wouldn't mind me bringing him in."
"Pineapple, and I suppose you're right. No one in the office would object." He turned onto the exit. "Now the only question is if you'll be allowed to."
She dialed the number on her cell and held up her hand to tell him to be quiet while she ordered.
"Hi, Rob," she said to the guy on the other end of the phone. They ordered from that place so often that she knew everyone by name. "It's Sadie."
"Oh, hey, what's up? How's the investigation going?"
"Well, and the rest is classified. We'll take the pineapple today."
"Okay, it'll be really in twenty minutes. See you in a bit."
They hung up. "Rob said twenty minutes and I'll see about it. Now that I'm thinking about it, I should just ask to first. We don't want to put him anywhere without having full records of the family and if the killer does come back to finish the job, I always have a gun somewhere around me."
"Me too, and I'm there all the time. I guess it could work. I hope the kid won't mind."
"I bet he'll just be happy to get out of the hospital. Adam, you're going to miss the turn." He swerved, the car in front of them giving a very loud, drawn out honk.
Wow, this is my first fanfiction ever written in my usual writing style. Hope you don't mind the OCs. =]
