Disclaimer: I do not own FMA or its characters.

A/N: So I was trololing through fanfic, and noticed a few Mary Sue tests and whatnot, and found a piece that spoke of author-insert fanfics and how they're almost always terrible. Specifically, it was about when the author finds themselves in the story. However, there was a small notation about how such a tale could be saved, given the right skills.

Challenge. Accepted.

Here I go.

'~'

I felt my eyes droop, dismally slow, as I stared at the screen of my beloved laptop, scrolling through fanfiction after fanfiction of Fullmetal Alchemist. It had been hours since I'd begun my traversing through the site, but I refused to give up until I'd read every one. Good, bad, fantastic, and terrible; all danced by my eyes until I wasn't sure whether I was actually reading anymore or absorbing it through some sort of strange powers located in my brain. Or maybe I was just steadily going insane. Whichever.

Some part of my conscience, probably the smart one, was screaming at me to close the lid and go to sleep. It spoke of 'sense' and 'good judgment' and other such nonsense, reminding me that I had a busy day of Monday to tackle in the morning.

I refused, fiercely believing that I could do this, and forgetting why on earth I'd attempted it to begin with. Time faded, leaving me in some sort of strange zone where I was aware of nothing. I'm not sure what was really happening, since the clock on the wall had seemed to become mind-numbingly loud, yet I saw no such device and I couldn't move from my hunched over position. I don't think my hands had retained their feeling for a long while, and I was sure that my feet had gone numb.

Suddenly, I felt a strange sensation on my cheek, like warm plastic.

To my dismay, I found that my eyes were closed, and my head was now on the keyboard of my laptop, the keys no doubt making mazes on my face that I would laugh at later. Silently, I cursed my human body and began the attempt to lift my head, when I realized that I no longer had any such control. Like a light being turned off with the flick of a switch, I was promptly asleep.

'~'

I awoke in stages, as I usually do.

First came the traditional cursing at the sun and bemoaning its existence. Next, of course, was the dim realization that it was morning and now was the time that I must awaken. Third, the realization that I would do no such thing unless screaming howler monkeys dragged me from my slumber whilst dancing the Macarena and playing the banjo.

After that, I would feel the effects of being truly awake in a blur; threatening myself, reminding myself of things I must do today, peeling an unforgiving cat who apparently wants breakfast off of my person, blearily hitting the 'off' button on the alarm clock, and sliding my pathetic self off the bed and down to the kitchen to have some coffee.

This morning, however, was the strangest I'd ever experienced. The sun, instead of streaming through a small space my cat had made in the curtains, was now all around me, beating its rays into my eyelids like a schoolyard bully with a deep vendetta complex. Next, instead of the usual yowling of the devil in feline form, I heard what appeared to be people chatting and cars honking. Instead of my soft bed, covered in blankets thrown about by my crazy sleep-dance, I felt stone, warmed by the sun.

Instantly, I was awake, sitting straight up and wrenching open my eyes, who did not want to cooperate at the time. At first, everything was blurry.

There might've been a few people milling about, though I couldn't tell for sure, and I do believe I spotted a few oversized blobs of black that could have been cars. I wondered about this for a moment, why, indeed, I couldn't see, until I realized I was not wearing my glasses. I felt around dazedly for them, my mind focusing its energy from trying to understand my current position to something more familiar.

As I slid my glasses on and looked up, it was as though I were struck by lightning.

I knew this place.

A busy street in front of me, cars driving past lazily and people walking to and fro, wearing clothes slightly outdated in my opinion. Buildings towered above me, reaching towards a sky that was bright and yet so vaguely different from the one I knew. Vendors shouted their wares, and those who walked past me gave me a pitying look or else barely a glance.

I was agog. I knew this place. It was so familiar and yet…

…Central.

Central.

I had to place my hand over my mouth to restrain the scream that threatened to tear from my throat. These streets, those cars, the people walking by who I now noticed were appallingly flawless. It made sense, now. Crazy sense that couldn't possibly be true in a million years, perhaps. But sense.

My logical mind boggled with the pure idea. A story, that's all this was, a story, filled with fictional characters and fictional places who engaged in fictional plot devices that eventually ended with something akin to "and they lived happily ever after".

A story.

And I was now smack in the middle of it.

'~'

A/N: YES, putting an author's note here IS necessary, because you see, I wrote that all without so much as a pre-draft. Yup. That's me. So review, the other thing, whatever.

And yes, that is how I, in fact, wake up. It's an art form, I assure you.