The End Is The Beginning
Author's note: OK, OK, I swore up and down I would never write angst, for I burn with optimism's flame. This may come off as so much pop psychology, but sometimes you have to stop running from the pain, turn and face it, then grab it with both hands. And no matter how badly it burns you, rips and tears at you, you don't let go because surviving it will make you stronger. This story is partly inspired by my feelings for my late father, partly by feelings from watching episodes 50 & 51. You know how much better you feel after a good cry?
Disclaimer: I don't own FMA, yadda,yadda, yadda.
Warning: BYOT Bring Your Own Tissues
Chapter One: Memories and Regrets
On the morning of the last day of his life, Alphonse Elric awoke just after dawn; opened his eyes, and briefly considered going back to sleep. He'd passed his 125th birthday just a few months ago, but living this long no longer seemed to be such a great thing.
Alphonse often wondered exactly how he'd reached such an advanced age; he often supposed it was a byproduct of those years his true body had been trapped inside the Gate. He had outlived virtually everyone he'd ever known: Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, Denny Bloch, Maria Ross, Alec Louis Armstrong, Jean Havoc, and all the rest at Central HQ; Elysia Hughes, Pinako Rockbell...
Even Winry, his beloved Winry who had given himseven beautiful children; and his eldest son, Yuki had gone into the unknown before him. His throat tightened - now there was no way he would get back to sleep. He levered himself up off the pillows, gasping as his joints protested such sudden movement. He expected he must have exclaimed out loud as there was a knock on his door; and after a moment it opened to reveal his great-great granddaughter, Trisha. (An unwritten rule seemed to be there must be one Trisha in each generation)
Without even being asked, she had brought him breakfast - a steaming cup of coffee, a bran muffin (gotta have that fiber), and a banana. Trisha was just a teenager, and Alphonse felt she needed her beauty sleep, yet she still got up at dawn. He'd been doing it for a long time out of habit, it was a lesson Izumi-Sensei had drilled (or was it beaten?) into him when she trained him in alchemy. What was with him today? Memories of loved ones, and ones he cared for had always been too painful to touch before. Trisha was giving him a concerned look, so he shied away again and tried to do justice to breakfast.
The coffee was excellent - rich and dark - the way he liked it; the muffin was moist and flavorful, even the banana seemed more delicious. He ate while Trisha talked about everything and nothing - school, boys, her friends, boys, clothes, boys, music, boys, alchemy, boys - Alphonse was glad to see she had her priorities straight. Between mouthfuls, he asked her innocent questions, and she gave him innocent answers; it was a game they played each morning. Trisha thought she was keeping her own counsel, but Alphonse had her pegged: 125 years of observing humanity had taught him how to read people.
With a groan - and her help, he finally rolled out of bed. He shuffled painfully to the bathroom, then painfully washed his face, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair. Ah,the hair - his pride and joy. Once the color of warm caramel, his hair was now snow white, but thick as it ever was. Unlike Roy Mustang, who had eventually gone bald as a bowling ball. Alphonse chuckled at the memory of his former commanding officer, who had finally realized his ambition of becoming Fuhrer. Roy lasted eight years in that office before tiring of the political infighting - his last official act had been to abolish the position of Fuhrer and transfer all his powers to the Amestrisan parliament.
Trisha was looking concerned again, so he ruffled her hair - gently - she'd probably spent a good 45 minutes primping, plus almost all hand motion made his wrist twinge. "I'm just remembering, punkin' ". She blushed, he'd called her that from little on, but now it was just embarrassing to a self conscious teen. She helped him get dressed, then led him to the rocker which looked through the big window over the green fields of Risembool.
"I have to get ready for school, I'll see you at lunch time!" He blew her a kiss, she caught it and raced down the stairs calling "I love you, great-great granddad!" Alphonse carefully pushed down on one foot and set the rocker moving, then he let the memories - and the tears - flow. That one day, that awful day. The day the damn Thule Society came back and invaded their world again. He and Brother had led the remaining State Alchemists into battle - h easily remembered the screaming, yelling, Edward shouting orders, the crackle and snap of alchemical energy and it's ozony aftertaste on his tongue, explosions, more screaming, the coppery tang of blood and death in the air.
On the opposite flanks, Mustang and Armstrong were leading the regular troops into the fray, now the crack of small arms fire, the smoke and heat from burned gunpowder muddled events further. With the help of planning and excellent strategy they'd mowed a superior enemy force down like farmers harvesting wheat, yet not without losses. He saw blue uniformed bodies fall, heard cries of "I'm hit! Medic! Medic!" Some he actually knew: Haymans Breda lay quiet and still, a large bloody hole in his chest and a slightly astonished expression on his face, Vato Falman grimacing in agony, blood coming from his mouth, he also died on the field. Brave little Kain Feury - he survived his wounds, but lost an arm - Winry later installed it's automail replacement.
Alphonse suffered a broken leg before it was all over, and at battle's end, he recalled Brother saying he needed to go through the Gate, to destroy the array on the other side. He protested loudly, for Edward to come back, TWO people were needed to open a portal, but Brothersoftly told him to stay put, "Al, you're hurt, and besides, you are needed here!" Mustang had found something to splint the leg with, then bundled him into Armstrong's grasp and told him to take Al to the field hospital. Even with the pain of a badly broken leg, and weak from blood loss, Alphonse had fought to get to Edward's side. He'd screamed his brother's name over and over, all the way to the back of the lines, until mercifully silenced by a sedating needle.
That was the end of the Thule Society's attempts at alchemical world domination, but Alphonse never saw his brother again. Once recovered, he threw himself into research, trying his hardest to find a new way to open a Gate and a road home for Edward. While reading late one night, he had fallen asleep, his head pillowed on an open book; only to wake with a start when dawn broke. Winry was standing before him with a frosted cake on a stand. He rubbed his eyes and asked what that was for. "It's your birthday, silly!" She lit the two candles on the top, the ones in the shapes of the numbers two, and nine.
"Make a wish, then blow them out." He made a wish, the same wish he always did, and Winry slid a small gift wrapped box over to him.
He opened it to reveal a plain golden ring; removing it from it's home, Alphonse held it up to the morning sun streaming through a window. His sleep muddled brain wondered what it was for. He gave her an inquiring look, "It's a wedding ring, Al." He continued to look at her owlishly, and she blew a sigh, exasperated. "Don't you get it?" she cried "I LOVE you, you big dummy, and I want you to marry me!" Alphonse had been astounded, if he'd been Texan, he would have been 'whomperjawed'. "Winry, this - this is so sudden, I don't know what to say."
Winry then brandished a shiny wrench with a bow tied to it "Just say yes, dammit!" With a persuader like that, how could he say no?
And they had been happy. The remarkably fecund Winry had conceived on their wedding night, and nine months later delivered a son they named Yuki, after her grandfather. Alphonse hated to admit it, but Yuki saved his sanity and his life. Having a child to care for took his mind off his sorrow; he found he enoyed being a father, and each addition lightened his heart a little more. After Yuki came a girl, Pinako; then another girl, Trisha, followed in close order.
Winry then rested from her labors (no pun intended) for two years before producing her second son, Daniel, named for her father. The third son was named Hohenheim, Winry had insisted on the name and Alphonse agreed. He'd barely known his own father, so Hohenheim didn't bring up negative feelings for him like it had for Edward. The third girl was of course, named Sara and both Winry and Alphonse expected her to be the final addition, but mother nature had a surprise for them three years later. He turned out to be another boy, who they named Maes. And he was as brave as his namesake. When he fell out of a tree and broke his arm, he barely gave it time to heal before scrambling back up into the branches - only to fall out again and break the other arm.
They lived a quiet life except each Military Remembrance Day, then they all piled into the train to Central and spent the weekend in a nice hotel. The Elric familywatched the parades, the military tattoos, and finally the Remembrance Ceremony where the names of the honored dead were read. The last batch of names was of those who'd died fighting off the second invasion - and Alphonse often took a turn at reading them off as a red poppy was tossed onto a symbolic grave. Until twelve years on, when he heard "State Alchemist, Colonel Edward Elric" intoned for the first time. He'd jumped from his seat and fled in tears, to the back of the cemetary where he could cry in peace.
It was Riza who had found him later, given him a hankerchief, and urged him to come back. By then, Alphonse was feeling better for having had a good cry and he rejoined the others for the finale, a grand banquet, followed by a fireworks show.
They would sit on lawn chairs in the dusk and watch their kids shrieking and laughing as they chased one another in a giant game of 'Tag' - Riza had finally made an honest man out of Roy and they were raising a small tribe of smirking brats - and reminisce. After a while - and a few beers - Alphonse could actually chuckle whenever Havoc brought up the spectacular fits Edward would throw whenever Mustang taunted him about his height. He would still feel a slight depression for a week afterward until he found his own coping mechanism: teaching alchemy to his children.
Alphonse would start by sitting cross legged on the ground, and holding each child in turn on his knee. With a long stick, he would show them how to draw a basic transmutation circle, then trigger it. Then followed basic transmutation lessons: turning a rock into a sculpture, water into a frozen shape, air into a visible, wriggling something.
Once he felt each was old enough to not to be too scared, he also made it plain there were two alchemic procedures they were forbidden to do: Human Transmutation, and making Human/Animal chimeras. When a beloved cat died, the children begged him to try a feline transmutation; so Al had to explain it was possible, but the cat might not come back with the same personality (Fluffy had been a loving lap hog). They didn't seem convinced, and it was Yuki and Pinako who had tried it - they succeeded - but Fluffy was just as Alphonse had feared: the formerly loving tabby acted like she was possessed by a demon.
Fluffy was attacking his children, biting and scratching viciously and Alphonse had no choice. Pulling on his white gloves, the ones with the arrays stitched to the palms, he'd clapped his hands to summon an alchemical reaction. When Fluffy launched herself at him, Al transmuted her into ethanol. Together with his weeping offspring, he watched the cat dissolve while it mewed piteously. It had been a hard and very painful lesson to teach them. Alchemy was not a game he told them, for their vanished uncle had used the exact same strategy to destroy a homunculus.
In his rocker, Alphonse let the tears fall, they blurred his vision even further than it normally was. He'd started to go blind a few years ago, and now could see only colored shapes. It was hard on a man who was used to being so active, osteoarthritis had finally stopped him in his 90s, and he was now in almost constant pain while awake. He used to be able to keep up with his great grandchildren, but now he could only sit and watch the great-great grandchildren run and play. No, living this long wasn't so terrific when there was no quality to the life.
A sudden pain ran up his left arm, crowding out the usual background aches of his joints, and he gasped. It spread across his chest, crushing it so he couldn't take more than shallow breaths. In the distance, he could hear Trisha calling as she came home for lunch, but her voice, and the world suddenly faded away on a tidal wave of pain.