The Premonition

Edward lay on is bed at Winry's house, the stumps of his arm and leg still tingling painfully, the ghost of the needle-sharp pain that had ran like ran like fire when his automail had been attached. Fractured, painful memories flashed across his mind that hurt almost as much as the physical pain had, accompanied by a harrowing sense of guilt. Fear he felt too, fear about his brother that gnawed worse than his pain, worse than his guilt, worse than his hideous memories. He turned on his right, and gasped slightly as side felt hard, cold steel instead of warm flesh. He turned again and lay on his back, gazing at the ceiling but not seeing it, picturing instead Al in the suit of armor, hunched in a corner.

"There has to be something" thought Ed. "Something I can do to get Al's body back. There must be! Whatever it is, whatever it takes, I'll get it back. I promise, Al!" These last words were whispered to the dark. "After that I'll get my limbs back." He raised his right mechanical hand, closing it into a fist, golden eyes fierce and determined in his pale face. I'll regain everything we lost. There is a way, and I will find it!" He let his hand drop, down, down, until it hit the bed with a thump and a soft clatter of metal.

He was standing by the gate, alone. He stared up at it, looking with awe at the pillars on either side of the mighty doors, carved with figures of people in various poses, laughing, terrified, angry. "The gate," he muttered. "How am I back here? Al? Al, where are you?" he swung wildly around, but his brother was nowhere to be seen. Panic rose like bile in him, but died down just as suddenly. Al was safe, even though he wasn't with him. He Knew, simply knew.

The gate creaked open ominously, and involuntarily Ed stepped back. "Why are you here? " he shouted at it, " I didn't summon you. What do you want with me? It's already been an equivalent exchange!" the back hands of the unborn children were already stretched to seize him, he could see their bright eyes and hear their mocking, careless laughter. "Stop!" he could not keep the fear out of his voice now. "Why are you taking me?"

"Stop" said a voice. It was soft, but clear. It seemed to come from the gate itself, and at its command they drew back and lost themselves in the shadows, save for their gleaming eyes. A figure materialized in the golden light that streamed from within the gate. It was the shape of a girl, no older than he, with the same violet eyes as the beings that lurked in the shadows. Yet they were not the same eyes, for while their eyes showed inhuman eagerness, hers were ageless and impassive. Her long black hair was braided back, and she wore a simple black dress, sleeveless and tight fitting on her child's body. Her form was blurred and indistinct around the edges, as though she had not fully materialized, or she was merely the yellow light taking the form of a girl.

Ed stepped back."Who are you?" he cried.

"I am the gate" she said, and though her lips moved, her voice seemed to come from the great doors, from the radiance. The boy's eyes widened.

"The gate? But you can't be- that's impossible!"

"How is it?" the figure faded, then re-formed into a cat, which looked at him through slitted eyes. "I am the gate, the judge of the alchemists' equivalent exchange. You came earlier, wishing to revive your mother." She shifted into Trisha Elric, save for her violet eyes. Edward stumbled back, horrified. His mother…

"You were a fool" she said softly. "An arrogant fool to think you could bring her back. Once they have passed the gate souls do not return from the dead. But you have paid your price."

Ed swallowed, then collected himself, glaring at her fiercely. But anyone could see that his ferocity was only a mask, a veil to hide his fear and guilt. "I want them back!" he shouted. Is there a way, any way at all, to get Al's body and my limbs back? Tell me, I'll do anything!" the unfinished children whispered in the shadows. Unexpectedly Trisha laughed, melting back into her girl's body, but her eyes now seemed old, very old. "Little fool-"

Ed bristled. "Don't call me that!"

"You have committed the unforgivable, and yet you still think that which you have sacrificed you can take back? What will you exchange for them now? Your other limbs, your eyes? And what for the body? His soul? Your body?"

Edward glared at her, hands clenched. "Don't toy with me!" he cried " there must be another way! Tell me what it is, please! At least for Al. I brought him into this. Please." The last word was spoken quietly, desperately, while those measureless eyes gazed into his.

"There is a way" she said. "Not for you, but for your brother. You have violated the most sacred law; you must bear the mark to the end of your days. But the road for your brother is a hard one for you both. For four years you and your brother will wander, homeless. You both will suffer more pain then you think you can endure, and undergo more loss than you believe you could handle and survive. Do you understand?"

"People will die because of us!?"

"Some. Others you only grow to love before they do. But what of it? It is the burden of every man to die."

"It's-it's the only way? For the first time there was defeat in his voice.

"Yes" she said, the answer brief and unchangeable. Ed stared at her, hoping to find mercy, some human pity, but her eyes remained blank. A slight smile curved her lips. You are a sinner, child" she said, as though she knew what e was searching for. " For breaking such taboos forgiveness does not come easily, if at all. Your metal limbs shall be a reminder to you, and an example to others. But as he was merely an accomplice, your brother can have his body back, but not before a suitable price is paid. That is the way of this world, boy."

Edward stood silent, head bent, for a long time. Fragments of her words flew through his mind: "it will cause you more loss than you believe you could handle and survive—some, others you will only grow to love before they do—forgiveness will not come easily, if at all." There was a way. Not for him, but for his brother. Memories flashed over his sight, he and Al laughing, fighting, making clay toys with alchemy. Then Al in the armor. His promise to him. He would get his brother's body back, no matter what it took. Determination surged through him. He raised his head. "Okay, I'll do it!" he said. "But will I do? Where will I go?"

"You will know" she replied. "Go."

The unborn children crowded around her. She faded away, her eyes the last to vanish. The children laughed as the great doors swung shut, innocent yet horrible laughter. Their laughter filled him, engulfing his senses, the world went dark under the weight of it.

His eyes snapped open and he blinked, dazzled. Sunlight was streaming into his room out of a clear blue sky. "As though it doesn't know or care what happened to us" he thought, then- "of course not. How could it? It's better that way."

"Brother?" Al came into the room, accompanied by the unfamiliar clank of armor, driving, Ed's guilt even further. But he would get Al's body back, no matter what. But how?"

"You will know" echoed a voice in his head. Where had he heard that? In his dream. His dream… he strove to recall it, but only fragments remained.

"Brother, are you alright?" asked Al anxiously.

"Yeah" Ed answered, eyes unfocused. Then it hit him, like a flash of light. He sat up. "Let's go outside. We need to talk."

"Are you sure you can? You're still recovering."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

Ed got up, his mind still reeling slightly from his inspiration. He could not remember much of his dream, it had passed away beyond recall. But one thing was clear, the way that could bring back what they had so foolishly sacrificed. "The Philosopher's Stone," he thought. "Yes, the Philosopher's Stone."

Finis

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. A few things that might clear up some questions: 1) this is based off the anime (obviously) 2) I wrote the first draft of this before I read the manga, so I had no idea about the Truth. Strange, I know… anyway, I kept Ed in character as much as I could, but any constructive criticism about him or any other aspect of my story would be greatly appreciated.