Hey guys. Listen, I'm so sorry about the lack of updates.
The Universe used 'Life!' It's super effective! My inner author has been kicking my ass for about a week just to write SOMETHING, damnit~! So here you go. Not my best but I don't care, It's nice to write something.
To those of you who read my other stories, updates are on the way. Promise over my dad's girlfriend's latest batch of cupcakes.
Enjoy!
Somewhere, trapped inside a soul of nightmares and agony, Alphonse Elric dreamed.
Perhaps dreaming wasn't the right word. A dream is something that plagues you momentarily, an hour or so in the cool shadow of night. It will, eventually, release its grip upon you and you will be alright, maybe, until the sun goes down again.
But what if you couldn't wake up?
Al paced sullenly and the scenery whipped past him at impressive speeds. It seemed that the enviroment was a reflection of his thoughts- therefore, he'd tried his absolute best to quit thinking, as its terribly disconcerting when your surroundings change in a split second.
But, seeing as he just couldn't put it off anymore, Alphonse began to walk quickly to a small house that seemed to staying stationary for now. The world might change pictures, but to Al it was always a medley of crimson and gold, crimson and gold. Perpetual autumn, some might say, but to Al it was a reminder of someone very important that he couldn't put his finger on currently.
Colonel Mustang?
"No," Al sighed, shaking his caramel hair in the suddenly forceful gust of wind. "No, no, no."
Mustang was always grey. Or maybe- green? No..
It was his fault, Al supposed, that he was in this current situation. If he could've accepted the fact that in this nightmare world things changed quickly, perhaps he could've spared his brain from being mixed and mashed.
Edward Van Elric. That was his brother's name, Al thought. Oh, why couldn't he remember-?
Another thing about this strange realm was one tended to forget things the way a mother cat forgets her kittens. Something was so utterly important to you- then the next day, you forgot completely about it. He couldn't remember why he needed to get out of here, just that he did. He'd had a reason, hadn't he? Or maybe not.
Sitting down on the grass that was-a pale blue? Oh, mind..-Al grabbed his dirt-encrusted knees and yanked them up to his chest. He loved the feel of his flesh, he couldn't deny it- but something about the cool, oily feel that only metal could give would be most reassuring.
This activity occured daily. Al sat down and remembered everything he could, just so if not to try and remember more, that he wouldn't forget everything.
He wasn't dead, he knew. Alphonse held a pale hand up to the fading sunlight and examined it, looking for the tiniest trace of metal to let him know his armor was intact somewhere- but nothing showed, only cracked hands caked in dirt from weeks without a proper shower.
In fact, he knew his quote unquote 'body' had to alive somewhere, because sometimes he could feel the inexpliciable warmth it brought when someone laid a finger on his blood seal. It reverberated throughout his entire self, body and mind, as if the universe personally whispered:
"It's okay." Right into his very core.
His brother's name was Edward.
His mother was dead.
His name was Alphonse, and he was fourteen years old as of ..January..? No, June..
Anyway, he was fourteen.
Digging his heels into the soft grass, (that still hadn't changed back to proper color. It was beginning to disturb him.), Al gazed lazily at the sky. It faintly occured to him that he was going to go to that brick house on the edge of the clearing- but another sweep proved that the house was gone, leaving ashes in its wake. Ah, well, that's what one gets for thinking.
He had several theories that he thought over as dirty gold eyes observed the ever-golden trees swaying gently in the breeze that kicked up.
1) He was insane.
All right, he could get behind that, although thinking that way wasn't exactly pleasant. Alchemists as a whole were simply crazy. They take energy from the earth and make freaky magical stuff happen. Seriously, who does that! But then again, Truth or God or whatever had to've created it, so then that placed the insanity on the maker..
2) This was a form of purgatory.
That was the more likely answer, just because. Although, being brought up by Ed, he didn't care much for religon. And the last time they met God, he spat them out and threw 'em back.
3) He was in a coma.
Very unlikely..but..logic didn't apply in the swiftly changing planet (Oh, look, there it goes again. Hello, ocean.) he now inhabited. Armor can't go into a coma, could it? No. Something alive can't be almost dead. But..
A soul could, couldn't it?
If he was in a coma- then...then... if this was just a projection of his thoughts...then if someone could find a way to get him to project reality..
That conclusion could revolutionize medicene! It's wonderful! Brilliant!
"And utterly impossible," a voice behind him intoned.
Al didn't need to turn to see who today's visitor was. That voice he could recognize even if he was drowning.
"Colonel Mustang, sir."
People visited him everyday here, on this planet. People from his memories. Havoc, Hughes, Hawkeye, heck even Black Hayate came once. They'd stay and talk awhile, running their mouths without saying anything a'tall. At first, he'd been worried it was Envy, but now he didn't remember nor distincly care who Envy was or why he was to be worried about.
"Hello, Alphonse. Nice day today."
..'It's raining,'..
"Yessir. How's Ed?"
Mustang lowered himself gracefully to the ground, onyx eyes flashing with something akin to annoyance. He shook dark locks out into Al's direction, but locked his lips and never answered.
"How's Ed?"
A beat.
A sigh.
"The question has no answer, Al."
Another beat.
"...The hell you talkin' about?" Alphonse swore, furious at the colonel for dodging his question, furious at this stupid place, furious at his own forgetful self.
Mustang only shook his head and traced a pattern on the now dusty ground with a shining black boot, another exasperated sigh squeezing past soft pink lips.
"I can't help you, Alphonse Elric. The queston has no answer."
With that overly annoying cliche Colonel type line, said Colonel dissolved in that same disturbing way all his interbrainular visitors did, bodies taken apart bit by bit until nothing is left but a too cool breeze and the familar pang of loneliness.
Al opened his mouth to scream but decided against it. Who would hear him, anyway? Not his brother. Ed was probably dead, since none of his 'visitors' seemed to know about him.
"..Hawkeye?" Alphonse asked tentitavely, dirty gold eyes boring into the fragant flowers she handed him when she appeared.
"Yes, Al?" She asked, voice full of motherly love and happiness, although laced with that same tint of annoyance all his visitors nursed.
"Where am I? Where's Ed? I want to go home!" The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them, his real age showing in the tears slipping from his eyes. "I want to go home!"
Hawkeye set her lips into a stern line and shook her head, a sudden iciness enveloping her usually pleasant features. She watched him sob- heartclinching, broken animal cries- before disentigrating with only a shake of the head.
That had been the second day he was here, wherever here was, and Riza hadn't been back. A year, a year in this self-created hell. A year without his brother, a year trapped in the confines of a human body. Funny he should think that being flesh and bones was a punishment; funny how he longed for the cool metal that he'd despreately tried to shed in the past four years of his life.
Alphonse blinked at the sudden change in atmosphere- the disturbing pale blue grass faded way to ashes cluttered with bones, the stench of burning flesh strong in the air. He stood and strode over to the nearest charred ruins, balking at what he found there.
It was his brother's mangled torso.
The arms had been severed right at the shoulder, spilling endless blood across the blackened ground. The head lolled off to one side, and upon closer inspection it appeared to have been sawed off at the neckline. Legs missing too, all that was left was dark scarlet blood and dusty sunshine spilled in this never-ending nightmare.
A beat.
A broken, guttural howl pierced the forever silent air as Alphonse sank to his knees by the disembodied figure.
"No!" He screamed, body wracked with heartbreak and sheer disbelief. It wasn't true- Edward was going to come save him and it would be okay, he wasn't dead- No, it simply wasn't possible. Two plus two didn't equal three. Ed couldn't be any less than alive..
"How could this happen? Brother," Al whispered, grabbing handfuls of his brother's silken hair and bringing it to his nose. It didn't even smell like the boy he knew- the smell of determination lost to metallic blood.
"No.."
Al let golden locks slip between ash coated fingers as he sank into the ground, pushing his body deeper, deeper, like somehow he could force the universe to swallow him and save him from his misery.
'Brother,' Al wept, closing his eyes and succumbing to a dark, misery induced sleep.
x.x
"Things get worse before they get better, hon."
"I wonder how little Flufferbutt is doing. I know Joe's sick, but, I got a cat to take care of."
"How much do muffins cost?"
"Do you think I should lose weight?"
Al opened his eyes and promptly shut them again upon exposure to those damn bright lights. And where were those annoying voices coming fro-
He couldn't feel anything.
"Wha-"
Alphonse snapped his jaw closed and heard metal smack metal, a harsh sound that reverberated throughout wherever he was. He realized he was on his back..
Sitting up, albeit stiffly, like he'd been unmoving for several months, Al flinched when he heard the grinding of his metal joints on themselves.
In the corner of the stuffy room, a small heap of crimson and gold hunched over in The Evil Chair of Hospital Doom.
"ED!" Al screamed, delighting in the metal tink of his girly voice as he screamed.
The bundle leaped up, golden irises wide with trepidation and drowsiness. His eyes swept the room before stopping to gaze on the upright suit of armor in the back-
"A-AL!" The short boy yelled, running over with an arm outstreched to touch his little brother, his brother.
Two metal fingers met and Al sucked in a metiphorical breath as a spark shot through his body and a loud cracking sound bounced off each and every wall- and red glowing eyes closed on a image of giddy crimson and gold.
Al snapped his eyes open to face the sun that warmed his face as he lay back in the cool grass. He took a moment to remember how good feeling actually felt to your soul, before he let his eyelids languidly slip shut.
He pictured crimson and gold, crimson and gold in his mind's eye, feeling Ed's jolly smile wash over his body like waves on white sand.
The question has no answer, Mustang had said.
That small fraction of eternity was enough answer for Alphonse.
Letting a sigh slip between parted lips, Al settled down to wait for crimson and gold to find him, to smile at him again, to make him feel like a little brother should.
I'll be waiting, Brother. I'll be here. Right in this very spot.
Heaven, Hell, and Father Time were nothing on the Elric brothers' trust and determination.
Sorry if it's bad. I kinda wanted to write something about Al, even if it is sad. (Sorry, Alphonse, nothing personal.)
Thanks for reading!
~FullMetalCrayon~