Edit: Mcat9905

3/19/14

I do not own anything, except for maybe some random people on the street and the story.

…...

It had been exactly one century since he had landed in this world, and the golden not-child was no longer who he once was. Of course, the stone prevented him from changing too much, but one hundred years in a foreign world would make anyone different.

No longer was he as hotheaded as before-although his temper was still a legendary thing among those who knew him. No longer was he the tiny thing people would always make fun of, but he would never be necessarily tall, either. His molten eyes would no longer shine with a childish curiosity of the unknown, but now seemed heavy and sad with loneliness. Red cloth was replaced by black, and false skin hid the metal limbs that gloves and boots used to house.

Yes, Edward Elric was no longer the man he once was.

o.O.o

Tell me, mister al~chem~ist~, what would you give me for your brother's body?

Silently, the boy pointed a gloved finger at the giant set of ornate doors behind the white being.

Ooh, so you love your brother enough to give up your alchemy?

The boy stayed silent, only giving the Truth a determined glare through those golden eyes.

I'm afraid I cannot do that.

The boy shouted out his anger and disbelief, but the Truth merely held up a calming hand.

You see, mister al~chem~ist, under normal circumstances I would accept that trade, but these are not normal circumstances. You interest me far too much, and I have not been interested in anything for quite some time now. Besides ~ An unholy grin split what passed as Its face ~ We simply cannot leave that stone where just anyone with the know-how can use it, can we?

The boy snarled his response, only eliciting a sigh from the Being.

There is a way, however...

The boy yelled eagerly.

You will never be able to see your brother again, or any of your friends, for that matter.

The boy seemed to wilt at that, only to gather his courage and agree to his terms. Truth gave a small hum of pleased surprise.

Very well then, little sinner, it is a deal. Your world and your death, for your brother's body, your colonel's eyesight and your teacher's womb.

o.O.o

Edward had landed face first into the soft peat of a pine forest near a small town in what he now knew was Germany. Upon discovering the languages of this new country and his own Amestrian were remarkably similar, he set out to first learn this new way of speech and then familiarize himself with the world. He had, at the beginning, received many odd looks thanks to his strange clothing, but he had soon settled in with the new culture. Becoming bored with the fact that there was not much left to learn about just Germany, he expanded his horizons and became fluent in some of the major languages of the world, such as English, French, etcetera. He began studying all the new sciences he could find, although he was disappointed to learn that most of them were far behind his own world's science. He did, however, delve himself into mechanical engineering-after all, Winry was no longer with him and he just knew that he would end up busting up his automail. But of course, it was just as he was about to leave for America that the world fell into war.

Apparently, an Austrian archduke and his wife were killed, and sparked a battle between Austria-Hungary and Serbia. Soon enough, Germany and Russia were dragged into the argument, followed by France and Britain. Having already seen enough war in his lifetime, Ed stayed in hiding until the war ended.

Of course, he wasn't as lucky when the second war came around.

Without going into details, Ed had managed to make quite the name for himself. Following the war, he continued to practice his alchemy (in secret, of course-he HAD heard of the Salem witch trials, after all) and distinguish himself in the world's scientific community. Through all that time, he never questioned his decision to come.

o.O.o

That isn't to say he had forgotten about his home. He missed his brother and his friends terribly, and of course he worried about them, but Truth, a bastard he may be, was nothing if not honest*. He knew that his brother would be fine, because Winry and Granny Pinako would nurse his malnourished body back to health.

o.O.o

Now, all this brings us back to the present. It was now the 1980's, and Edward was calmly walking calmly down the streets of London to his small apartment. Sporting a healthy height of five feet and six inches, his long golden hair was bound in a messy ponytail that hung over his shoulder. A deep scarlet scarf was wrapped around his neck, a small black flamel symbol embroidered in the corner. He still wore a black shirt, leather pants and his elevator boots, but his symbolic red jacket had been exchanged for a less flamboyant black one. He still wore pristine white gloves, but thanks to prosthetic skin, it was just for sentimental reasons. And of course, his silver pocket watch was tucked neatly into his pocket.

"Good evening, Sandy," he greeted his dusky-skinned neighbor.

"Oh, 'evening, Ed!" she chirped cheerfully. "How was your day?"

"Same old, same old. And yourself?"

"Ooh, it was wonderful!" the young woman squealed. "John finally asked me out!"

"Good for you," he smiled. "Well, you have a good night."

"Yeah, you too!"

Opening the door and chuckling at his neighbor's antics, he strode into the place he was temporarily calling home. Papers were strewn everywhere; not one place was safe from the tornado of white and ink that seemed to have hit the room. Anyplace that wasn't covered by notes was claimed by stacks upon stacks of books. Even the kitchen was piled high with cookbooks in an attempt to make a decent meal that wasn't burnt, raw, or blown up.

He had never quite figured out how a simple omelet managed to turn into a gooey rage monster.

Sighing, the young (looking) man kicked off his shoes before collapsing onto a small—yet oddly comfortable—bed, sending papers fluttering every which way. It had been a long day. Though it only felt that way due to the incredible amount of people (who were, to his chagrin, taller than he) who expressed their doubts as to how someone so incredibly "young and uneducated" could become a chemistry teacher at the local high school. Even though a public school was NOT, in any way, Ed's first choice of job, he had already exhausted his supply of colleges to teach at, as well as several other positions that might have been taken. He was, therefore, not particularly happy at the parents who believed him to be nothing more than some upstart who thought he could teach.

It had taken many demonstrations, sweet words and yelling matches, but he had eventually managed to sway even the most stubborn of disbelievers. Heh, now there was something he never saw coming. He, Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, reduced to shouting at soccer moms in order to teach a class of children. What would the flame bastard say if he saw him now... No, no, bad thoughts. Bad.

He groaned and rolled over onto his stomach.

"Stupid Truth…" he muttered drowsily. "Can't even... let me go for… a few days without… thinking about them…"

And silently, he fell asleep.

CRACK!

…

* I know a lot of stories have Ed trying every way he can to get back, but I figure that Truth, being, you know, the embodiment of truth (or something), Ed wouldn't worry all that much over Al and his friend's safety. Not to say he wouldn't worry, just not at the single-minded desperation a lot of fanfics show.

…

So. Here's my third story, and my first crossover, not to mention my first multi-chapter story. So yeah. I'm actually surprised at how long this chapter is- about four pages on google docs! I usually just get an idea, write, and after the first paragraph my brain just sorta fizzles out and dies... ahem.

About Sandy: I don't believe in OCs playing a major part in any story. There are a few authors who can make it work, but those are very rare. So Sandy was really just there to give lil' fullmetal someone to talk to.

Just remember! I can tell how many people view this, so someone, please, just leave a review. I will even accept flames; as long as they are not too bad.

Thank you.