Dark.
Cold dark alone desolate ice water freezing sleepy dead.
Mostly dark.
The stillness that echoed around him was all of these things, and more, as he floated upon the great expanse of Mercury. Was it quicksilver? For though it was too dark to see, he had a feeling that the material he was gently floating on was not at all grey. Maybe a light blue, etched in a metallic way, though that could merely be because all glimpses that he had had of it, were in the light of a blue bolt of electricity, rising to the surface and crackling up, up, until its connection was severed and it instantly sizzled out, leaving him alone in darkness once more.
He had tried to move, only to discover that his limbs in reality were quite fixed to where he was floating, the liquid metal had wrapped around his legs and arms, and even, almost warningly about his throat, preventing his movement. And then, the temperature had started to drop.
His eyes drifted closed, as another of the blue lightning bolts crackled to life very close to him this time, accompanied by a soft gurgling noise that he had come to recognise as bubbles breaking the surface of his liquid suspension. He shuddered to think what would happen if...
"Fullmetal! Fullmetal one!" A voice, ice cold and familiar, breaking the pristine silence all around him. "FULLMETAL! WAKE UP!"
His world changed in a moment as his eyes flew open, and he plunged into a world of light. He gasped at his sudden disposition in another world, blinking several times to grow accustomed to the glow of the lantern above him. He groaned. He had fallen asleep over his work again.
He was in actual fact, a young man of 15 years, with blonde hair, unusually long for a male and tied back into a plait that hung loosely down onto his red cloak, hooded and with long sleeves. His eyes were nearly the same gold as his hair, though they were more the clear colour of a light ale than the sun-kissed straw that framed his face. And he was short.
Very short. He stood around 5 foot 4 inches and was continually treated as a young child because of this fact, though his immature and hot-headed reaction to someone's mockery of this, only served to enhance this image. With a groan, he gently sat up from where he had quite literally fallen asleep on his book, the pages sticking ever so slightly to the side of his face as he did so. He turned his head, blinking sleepy eyes at the person who had woken up, before scowling at having been caught napping by this particular human.
At first glance, the man just seemed a standard human being, with a black, well styled hair cut, and eyes that were dangerously narrow in shape, without trying. He had strong features, and the beginnings of frown lines were starting to mark those strong features, well before such lines should. He was dressed, however, in the strangest uniform, blue, with golden trimmings, and a strange fold-over collar with fastenings to hold it in place. He had a gold rope draped over his right shoulder, which fastened on one side, looped once and clipped on again around back. This man reeked military importance and sophistication, and was the bane of our protagonist's life.
His name was Roy Mustang. The man everyone knew for his fetish for miniskirts, and his military aspirations.
Our protagonist, however, blinked with still sleep fogged eyes, registering nothing, but a severe dislike for the man who had woken him up. Manifesting enough energy to glare at the man, he felt his eyes beginning to droop again and he rested his head on the table once more, only to have cold air blown across his neck in an attempt to maintain his revival. Once again, the boy shot a glare at his superior, before groggily sitting up, and giving up any chance of sleep he might still have had. He did not question the oddity of his superior's strange behaviour, though somewhere the fact that the man had blown upon his neck in an effort to wake him was stored for deliberation later.
"Hagane, what are you doing?" The man asked, using the boy's military name to address him. It was something the boy was used to however, and did not let himself get fazed as he forced his sleep addled brain to take in his surroundings. He was no longer in the pool of liquid, the dream still lingering on the edge of his conscious thoroughly confusing his view of where he was. He didn't remember coming to a small room, with stacks of research books piled around him, blocking his view of a partially open door, which led onto a room filled with shelves and many more books. The door that Roy Mustang must have definitely come through.
He sighed, finally addressing the man alongside him in the room. "What does it look like I was doing, Colonel Bastard?" He commented rather waspishly. He was never in the best of moods after just waking up, and this was no exception. Especially seeing as he had not been getting much sleep lately. All the sleep he had had contained dreams where he floated on an endless sea of water, lightning flashing about him, and darkness all about, if he could get to sleep in the first place.
The cheery juxta positioning of the Colonel did nothing to help matters either. He reflected glumly on that fact for a moment, and then came to the conclusion that Roy was only happy, because he had caught him napping. Roy was definitely the type of person you didn't show weakness in front of.
"Why it looked like you were taking your afternoon nap, Fullmetal." The man replied, a smirk upon his face.
"Hmph."
The boy's name was not Fullmetal, of course, no one would give their son that title as a child, it was the name he had been given by the military upon his pass of the state alchemist tests which were held once a year, to distinguish those alchemists who were good enough to become military personnel from the rest. The boy's real name was Edward. But try telling the Colonel that.
The man was smirking, however, as Edward groggily got to his feet, stretching the tired bones of his spine, and trying to get a painful crick out of his neck. His movement had brought his clothing into view, and whilst he was a military dog, he did not wear the uniform, instead, black leather pants that hung only ever so slightly off his legs, a black tank top, under a jacket (Black once again, but with white strips down its side, and a silver fastener) and a brilliant scarlet cloak. His boots were midnight with red soles, and were a rather large design, though inside they fit snugly. Once standing, the boy made no outward signs of his inward fatigue, standing straight backed and proud, for all he only came up to the Colonel's shoulder. The blonde hair that surrounded his face was slightly tousled however, and his braid was all but falling out of its binds.
"I came to send you home, Fullmetal, but seeing as you were asleep on your book it doesn't seem like the task is that important." Edward cast a wary eye at the clock within the room, discovering that it was well past midnight, and that, indeed, he should have been home in bed, instead of asleep on a book.
"Hmph." He stated again, rather bluntly, before shuffling out of the room. Behind him, the man with the black hair smirked. "You're beginning to fall asleep all over the place." He snorted almost disturbingly merrily. Edward wisely made no indication that he had heard, so the man frowned ever so slightly before continuing. "One assumes it's because your short legs have ever such a hard time keeping up."
The usually guaranteed jibe failed however, as for once, Ed refused to rise to the bait, his eyes drifting ever so slightly narrower as he stalked off, leaving Roy so surprised he had to stop a moment, before blinking twice. It was a well known fact that Edward very rarely didn't let his emotions of rage show when that particular insecurity complex was rattled, but the boy had just walked off.
Either Edward was starting to mature, or the boy really was exhausted. Roy strongly suspected the second. "Edward?" The man's voice was surprisingly soft, which was what caused Edward to stop and turn in wonder. "Take tomorrow off, and get some sleep."
Edward shook his head disbelievingly and left the library.
Some time later, slowly, ever so slowly, golden eyes cracked open once more upon the world of the living, this time, in a warm bed, wrapped in the heavenly feeling of plush-soft blankets, and the quiet buzz of a ceiling fan overhead. The sun was now up, and was peeking through the large window in such a way that a bright glare reflected off metal and straight into Edward's eyes. Squinting, Edward sat up, shifting his face away from the glare coming from the object he held in his right hand, or rather, from his hand itself.
The robotic appendage clenched angrily, as Edward shuffled out of the bed, preparing to go to have a shower, and not bothering to spend time studying the intricate design of plates and wires that made up his right arm, and the majority of his left leg. They were reminders in a sense, of a sin that he and his brother had committed once, though he had to say he believed he had gotten off easier, though it was his fault. After all, he hadn't lost his whole body, whereas his brother had.
He squashed the guilt. He was beginning to get very good at that.
A wide yawn threatened to escape him as he wandered over to the bathroom, to one side of the small double bedroom, a cot on either wall of the room. "Al! Al!" He called, using a louder tone than he usually would, but one that ensured his voice carried throughout the small living space that they had been provided with. "Alphonse!" He nearly demanded, pulling off his shirt with a sigh, as a blast of cool air hit him from the fan above.
"Brother! You're awake!" he heard a young, slightly metallic voice call from one room over, as he stepped into the bathroom to shower for the day. He smiled. His brother had survived the separation from his body, because of Ed's sacrifice of his arm, a sacrifice he hadn't once regretted. Now, however, his brother's soul was encased in a suit of armour, quite intimidating at first glance, but Al was really a soft hearted boy, who wouldn't hurt a fly. And though much taller, Alphonse was a year younger than his shorter sibling. Of course, Al didn't have disturbing dreams in which he was floating upon a sea of potentially lethal mercury; at least, Ed didn't think he did.
He had never asked, just as he didn't tell his brother of the dreams he had. What happened in your head was private.
Sighing, Ed stepped into the bathroom, and began whistling a tuneless melody as the hot spray of the water hit his body.
Well... when I started writing this fic, it was before I caught a few things about scar in the show, which have changed my original presumptions. However, the plot bunnies are still egging me on to complete this, so I shall, even if it's not what I think anymore.
To tell you the truth, I had completely forgotten about this fic until I found it gathering dust on my Deviantart account, and that was only the first chapter... X.x
Also, if you read this, I'm warning you: Angst is most definitely my specialty, and I like well placed and emotional character death within context.
Sorry bout that.