Follow the Fishes

Summary: Alphonse takes care of a topsy-turvy minded Edward. Set before Hitler became Germany's chancellor. Post-movie timeline.

Disclaimer: I don't own the FMA characters.

Author's Note: A story I wrote just to veer myself away from my introspective-themed stories (not that I have many). Enjoy!


Why did I end up like this? Edward thought. Eleven years ago he had everything a sixteen-year old teenager can think of: he already traveled to distant lands, he had a bulging bank account, and most importantly, and possibly the most wicked of it all, he had his name in the history books. But it was also eleven years ago when he woke up existing in this world with nothing, not even his automail attachments. He wanted to go back, but with no clues whatsoever. Then suddenly, a hole appeared out of nothing, thanks to the satanic inner core of the Thule, and his brother jumped on this side of the damned portal when he told him to stay in the other side. He knew the kind of emotional rollercoaster that Alphonse would get into, and he would not be surprised if Alphonse would slice himself to death one day. And to top it all off, his friend Alfons died because of him. Not that he killed him, but he blamed himself for it that if somebody would ask him what his pastime was, he would answer, "I let people around me die." Any bed became his friend, and all he could possibly want to do was to just curl into a ball and wallow in grief. He did not want to admit it, but he knew that it took a while before he kicked his ass out of the bed.

Why was he here anyway? Oh yeah, he resurrected Alphonse, because he revived him too. Damn. Four years of travel taught him nothing. After they resurrected his mother and failed big time, he thought that he could move on when somebody he held deeply in his heart would die. There was Nina and Hughes, yes, but Alphonse was a different story altogether. He must not be dead, not when it was he who dragged his poor brother into the shithole that was supposed to be his alone.

He sighed. Now, nine years has passed since he was with Alphonse again without even moving a finger. Thinking about it, he figured that everything was all just an accident. He locked up a gypsy girl and met Fritz Lang who got wind of a dragon that was actually Envy and has a wife who was a Nazi and the Nazis was backed up by Thule Society that opened a portal thanks to his one hell of a father who left him because he had a beauty issue and Alfons who strapped him very tightly inside a rocket—No. He met Fritz Lang, he just met Fritz Lang, and all he had wished and worked for came tumbling down right in front of him. His world and Alph—

"Hey, Annina! We thought you were dead!" Siegfried's sudden standing and bellowing voice made him realize that he was staring at nothing for some time, and saw that the skies were already showing off its blue darkness. You shouldn't be thinking of things past. He mentally slapped himself, Why am I sulking all of a sudden? He had been like this for a couple of days now, and he got Alphonse all worried, as his brother always caught him staring into space, drowned in his own world of regrets. With a slight shaking of his head as if to zap him back to earth, he stood up and took notice of the middle-aged, bulky lady who lived upstairs the printing house where he was working at.

"Yeah, be careful, you may be German, but you know, when you are in crossfire between Nazis and Kozis, no one's a civilian…" He added to the joke, but he knew he did not sound like one. One of the things that he did not like was that Berlin was so political. Political was social, social was political. Do they really think that Hitler can make everybody rich? Or failing that, even stable?

He gazed at the grey-eyed lady as she slowly approached the two of them. Smiling with her laugh lines showing her age, she answered Edward, "Nah, now I'd rather be a Nazi…" She then added, "And yeah, why are you still here? You don't need to wait for me anymore, I already have a key." She looked at Siegfried then at Edward and back.

Edward shrugged, "No, we're just talking about how I am going to fuck myself out of Germany once your Herr Hitler becomes kaiser."

"Yeah, and you're spacing out, kid," replied Siegfried.

"'Zactly, I can just start walking to England. Now." And with that, he waved goodbye at the lady, with Siegfried following, "See you 'morrow, mein Frau...lein? Hehe!" The woman just sent them off with a wave, ignoring Edward's remark.

And yes, he also hated another thing. He hated walking side by side with this six foot two frame of a man named Siegfried along the Herkulesbrucke. But it was not because of the height difference; it was because Siegfried's breath smelled like feces that he have to practically bathe himself with perfume every single day just to fight the stink.

After they gained on the bridge, their eyes were flooded with walls that said it was verboten to stick bills, but the whole space was covered with posters of Lenin and bloodred posters with the familiar black Eastern symbol of light in the middle.

"It has to be the Nazis, that Hitler guy's right." Siegfried opined while staring at one of the tattered posters.

"I don't like his moustache." Edward replied, trying to be as apolitical as possible.

"You know who I blame for all these shit that happened to us?"

"I wish somebody shaves the thing off his face. Terrible, flies off at all directions whenever he speaks."

"Fucking kikes."

Edward sighed. "A fucking kike hired my brother and paid him fine, and my brother's a bloody Englishman, if ever you're interested."

"Foreigners." Now he was looking at Lenin.

"Do you have a concept of tooth powder? Because you might want to clean your mouth." Edward meant it literally and figuratively. Siegfried was one of those many people who blamed the eternal scapegoat for everything. No harvest? Fucking Jews. Lost in the war? Fucking Jews. Unemployed? Fucking Jews. Or fucking foreigners. This bulk of a man always forgot that he was talking to a fucking foreigner.

The walking slowed and the glint in the older man's eyes told Edward that he hit a touchy spot. He waited for Siegfried to punch him, but he did not. "And you smell like the dead," he retorted instead.

"Yeah. Borrowed my clothes from the Mad Monk." And the perfume, yes, it smelled of wilting chrysanthemums and rotten flesh, which annoyingly made him remember his father. He tried to shake from his head the image of a waterfall of blood that was Hohenheim.

They walked some time in silence, and when they reached Charlottenburg, Siegfried suddenly asked as they approached a beer cellar, "Want a drink?" Edward shook his head, not that he was not a drinker anymore, he didn't know why, but a part of him was just so jaded. And numb. The world was doing its usual thing, and he did not care. For all he knew, he could just sit and watch as the flurry of images changed right in front of him. Everything was so mechanical, he would step his right foot then the left then the right then the left and he had to look straight ahead, he would do the usual look-to-the-right-then-left when crossing a street, he would read a signage somewhere like KEEP OF THE GRASS and he would keep off the grass, as the Germans like their signage followed, he would take a detour if he would see a riot between Nazis and Commies, he would pass a delicatessen and he would wonder what Alphonse would be cooking for din—

"hEy MiStEr! HaVe YoU sEeN mY DoG?" He sure as hell knew that the shrilly voice belonged to a girl, but he did not look back. He had been hearing whispered voices before, and this one sure did not seem like it was unreal or whispered. Still, he kept on walking, as he did not want to look back only to find out that no one is there. Nevertheless, there was something rabid about the voice that makes him want to check what was going on, but he just wanted to go home. He crossed his arms tighter to his chest, and started walking faster. He looked straight, and saw that he was almost close to the corner leading to Bismarckstrasse, home of the German middle-class.

"MmM. mIsTeR, sEeN mY dOg?" The girl was suddenly beside him, keeping up with him. As he looked at her, his eyes widened. Okay, so, did I look like her when I was her age?

She was fourteen to fifteen, he thought. She had long hair that was going to every direction, like Hitler's moustache; it was pink, then suddenly it was blue, then suddenly it was green and settled into a screaming orange that fell and floated above her mismatched eyes. God, if there was a god, her eyes were blue and green, like he was looking at a Vegas neon light, and he noted the distant stare in it. He shook his head, and blinked. But the sight was still there, and he was not imagining: wild, multicolored hair and eyes, a denim jacket, a pair of jeans that was cut to the its thighs, fishnet stockings, too many earrings in her left ear, worker's gloves and Is that a cami-knicker? Worn on top of the jeans? If she was a prostitute, she sure did not look like one; she looked like she was high on drugs, Edward thought.

"hhEeYy! mIsTeR! mY dOg!" she said in a clear, but faraway voice.

He shook himself out of his reverie and answered, "Never saw a dog, fraulein. Can't help you." And he continued walking, deciding to leave the girl with her own devices. Usually, he would extend his help to anybody, just out of politeness, but he was not feeling polite now. He just wanted to go back to that room in 15b Bismarck Allee, sleep and… sleep. Like always. His senses were so passive he could not feel anything anymore, like a machine that he could turn on and off. Unfortunately, there was no off-button for life.

But the girl tailed and looked at him with her jaw dropped. Edward glanced again, and saw the girl's intense stare.

"UhM…I…tHiNk." Then she looked down, and he noticed that her hair was turning to black, and she said in a more faraway voice, "mY dOg biT yOuR tOe…"

He looked down himself.

"…bUt He'S nOt ThErE!" She shot up her head fast and laughed at him with wild fascination.

"YeeeSSS! My dOgGy! He LooKed LikE a CabbAge! No. UhM. My dOg iS a cAbbage. Or my cAbbagE is A dOg? I'm Not SurE nOw, uhM. I tHink. HaHaHahAhAHaAhA!" Her laugh sounded like somebody was electrocuting her, and her other leg was shuddering.

Well, she's goddamn enjoying her laugh. "You have a family, fraulein?" He asked. This girl was amusing, but he thought that something was wrong with her. Off to Daldorf, this girl, and he remembered that when he was younger, adults would say that he ought to go to Daldorf. He smiled faintly at the memory.

The girl stopped laughing, and was suddenly looking nervous. Her hair turned into a dark purple, and he would swear to any existing god that he saw a blue-striped yellow fish at the end of one of the locks.

"UHm. NoW. Uh. tHaT's a GoOd QuEsTiOn, MisTeR," and she started munching her pointing finger that was already bitten to start with. "yEaH. I hAvE a BrOtHeR, a SiSteR, a bRotHeR, a BrOthEr, a SIsTeR, a SisTer-BrOthEr and ME! BuT I'm oLd. I'M vErY rEaLlY oLd. liKe. Uh. uHm. tHe SuN! wAiT. i ThInK I'm oLdER thAn thE sUn! HuH? I tHinK iT's mY OtHeR sIsTeR. I dOn'T KnoW. I fOrGeT. YeAh. We hAvE a HousE, bUt we dOn'T seE eAcH oTheR aLwAys. ThEre'S nO oNe In thE hoUsE, We hAvE ouR oWn HoUseS. i dOn'T KnoW, maYbE bEcaUsE Of mE. Or bEcaUsE Of thEm. wE aLsO havE fIrEfLieS, iT sWiMs aNd SiNgS LalALalA!" her eyes widened further and she giggled wildly, shrieking her delight.

"I can bring you to your home." Edward suddenly offered. Now, he would not mind wasting his time talking to a girl whom he was sure has vinegar up on her head, but she was amusing. If he was numb and physical sensation was the thing, then she was proving to be quite a sight. It was something about the girl's appearance. It makes him remember the time when he was in a bright red trenchcoat walking along the streets of Lior in the scorching heat of the sun. Memory. It is a fickle thing, it makes you hold on to things that make you remember, even if the thing is a girl with questionable mental facilities. Looking at the girl, he wondered what tragedy the girl had seen. He never thought or even imagined that somebody had worse than he did.

The girl frowned and swirled around and around and ran away from him while babbling, "I havE a hoMe, dId I teLl yOu I hAvE a HoUsE? UhM. i dOn'T KnOw. I tHinK iT's fArAwAy. UuHh. YeAh. i rUn ArOuNd. YeS. yOu SeE mY doG? OOOOooooooHH!" She pointed to the sky, "…tHeRe'S mY dOg! HiS nAmE iS baRnAb- SoMeThInG? i dOn'T rEmEmBeR. i ThInK. HeY, BaNanA!"

Edward knew that she was making a fool out of him, but he looked up nevertheless. There was no dog, of course. Stars. So many stars. He realized that he never looked up at the skies for quite some time now. It was beautiful; heavenly, even if his rational mind told him that there was no such thing, because you need to die first before you see heaven, and nobody saw heaven and went back.

The girl stomped her feet angrily, and pouted; her hair a fiery red with streaks of yellow. "hE's GoNe!" and for a split second her tone changed, rabid again, and still looking at the sky, she pointed, "tHe StaRs aRe pReTtY. TwiNkElInG, tWinKlinG, tWinKeR. Uhm. I DoN't KnOw. Uh. It…iT… Uhm. Uh… TwInKLes! Then she laughed heartily while swaying, flapping her arms like she was going to fly any moment. For one mad second, Edward wanted to embrace the girl, and get her out of this place. Something. Anything.

She stopped and faced Edward; "tWiNkLe Is A bEaUtIfUL wOrD. Uhm. I kNoW."

He walked slowly towards her and agreed, "Yeah. I think so too…" and he smiled at her. They continued walking, and he said, "…Now that you mention twinkle… that means stars."

"U-HuH." She nodded avidly with a big grin across her pale face.

"You should go home. Your family's worrying." He hated that he sounded both like a babbling father and Mustang at the same time, but he did not want to read a newspaper article next day saying that a girl was gangbanged in some alley and was shot after. Hell of a way to die. Everybody around him died. Even his brother did.

"i HaVe A bRoThEr…" she replied, like she heard what Edward thought. "…He KeEpS aN eYe On Me. uHm. I kNoW hE kNoWs ThAt I kNoW hE kNoWs tHaT I'm WiTh YoU. i ThInk. My BrOtHeRs aNd SiStErS sAiD mY BrOtHeR sHoUlD. tHeY sAy I'm SiCk. I dOn'T bEliEvE tHeM. BuT i DoN't BeLiEvE mYsElf tOo. yEaH."

She fell silent. Her head hanging sideways.

If only Alexanderplatz is not at the opposite end of the city! Damn it! Where are the police when you need them? Fuck it!

Edward walked faster with the girl walking beside him, and he noticed that even when he already saw the stars, it did not really hit him that it was already dark, as if the girl slowed the time for him. He secretly glanced at her, and she was staring at him; blinking.

"i WaNt To Go WiTh YoU."

"I don't have a home," he replied quickly, with an edge that he did not expect. Her hair rapidly changed from yellow to blue to green to purple to pink to orange to red and it was hurting his eyes even in the dark. He shook his head. Why the hell is Bismarck Allee so goddamn far?

Then he was walking towards a wooden door, and he stopped. He blinked repeatedly, but he was still staring at the door with his nose touching it. He frowned and turned around.

15b Bismarck Allee was located at Bismarckstrasse, at the western end of Berlin. Edward and Alphonse's place was a two-bedroom, second floor apartment. There was something very bourgeois in the place, but Edward liked it there. And that made him think when Alphonse acquired a taste for things bourgeois because he was the one who suggested the place. It did not matter, though. Both of them had money to spare, but Alphonse had the bigger share, as his Russkaya boss Solomonova was paying him well, which made them happy and so as their landlady, Frau Clara Schmidt, a wife of an aging police officer. He remembered his dear Pinako in her, if only Clara was not on the heavier side of the weighing scale like the furniture in the sitting room. It was dark, but the moonlight was giving some of its shine, and the whole unit echoed with a suffocating emptiness.

"Al?" No answer.

He turned on the lights and walked in disbelief as he went to the bedrooms, and as it was in front of the kitchen, his eye caught that they do not have anything for dinner. He went to the bathroom and felt the cold. No one in there. But he was not looking for Alphonse anymore, as there was a nagging question gnawing his mind.

He went to the living room, and he couldn't believe his eyes. The whole room was full of yellow-blue, emerald-purple, and pink-red butterflies that sprinkled silver dust from the room's airspace onto the wooden floor. It was flying in random directions, then suddenly, it was flying from left to right to left to right to left, and in a blink of an eye it all became fishes that swam from left to right to left to right to left to right. He shut his eyes tightly and rubbed it. Then he opened it again. Everything was still there. He tried to shoo it away, but he felt a tingling cool whenever his skin made contact with the fishes. This doesn't make sense at all. His mind was searching for answers, but he was distracted by it all. He was shooing empty air, but it felt like water, and left silver glitters on his skin. It felt good, and moments later, he was already playing with fishes that always change its colors, feel like water, and do not disappear.

Very later on, however, he realized the utter stupidity of what he was doing and looked at his watch. 11:37. He tried to remember the time he went out of the printing house (or at least the color of the sky) and the time he arrived, and rubbing his whole face, he cursed himself, Edward, don't tell me that you jumped for three bloody hours. But his aching feet told him the affirmative answer. Defeated, he sat on the sofa nearest him, took off his shoes and threw it absentmindedly somewhere, and closed his eyes. He remembered something.

"Why the fuck am I in my apartment…"

Then he added,

"…huh, missy?"

There was a distant, misty voice coming from the sitting room, "UhM. I rUn ArOuNd. I dOn'T kNoW. YoU wAlKeD. I fOlLoWeD. I tHinK."

With eyes still closed, Edward answered, "I walked, huh. Please explain to me why the hell I was walking down the street one moment, and then one moment later I was suddenly walking towards the door of my apartment, inside my apartment." Then added defensively, "And I was not blinking." Something was happening that he did not understand, and he was sure the girl had something to do with it.

"YoU wErE tHiNkInG eArLieR tHaT I aM a WhOrE. I aM nOt. I'm JuSt Me. YeAh." If not for the yeah at the end, he would think that he was talking to a sane girl, but she was not sane, and he did not get the answer that he asked for. Wait. She can read my mind? That put the proposition "she is crazy" debatable. If she was really sick in her mind, why was she making mental notes of what he was thinking?

He stood up and walked towards her in the sitting room. She was sitting on one of the chairs opposite Solomonova's portrait, her eyes scrutinizing it. Her hair was lavender, and she was sucking a lollipop that dropped to the floor and became tomato paste. There was an orange fish swimming on top of her palm.

She turned her face to him, and her childish face told him nothing.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

Her blank expression changed into something worse. Nearly broke his heart. Her eyes widened further, her head dangled sideways, and her jaw slacked with multicolored saliva dripping from her mouth as she tried to answer.

"i…I…i…wAsN't sUpPosEd tO tElL…I…WaSn't sUpPoSeD tO… tO…taLk aBoUt Me…I…WaIt…" She bit her fingers. "…bUt…I…taLkEd aBoUt mY… sIsTeRs aNd mY…BrOtHeRs…mY dOg…Uhh…aNd HoUsE…Uhhhhh…UhMmMmM…Me….tWiNkLe…"

She put her hands on her ears, and started rocking herself, looking down. Oh, sh-it. Edward felt guilty. This girl was deranged, and here he was, torturing her mind; giving her a bad time. He knelt down and soothed her arms.

"….tHat iS a…dIfFiCuLt…qUeStiOn…I dOn'T…KnOw…My BrOtHeR HaS A bOoK…hE kNoWs…vErY MaNy ThInGs…I…aSk HiM…" she continued, her head on his metal shoulder.

"It's okay, don't answer it." Edward hushed. He wanted to cry, but no tears would come out. His arms were already around the girl's back.

"I'm…i'M…I KnOw wHo I wAs BeFoRe…I…dO…d…DeLla…i DoN't…kNoW. I tHiNk…MmM…"

"Is that your name, huh, Della?"

"N...nO..."

Edward was the one burying his face on the girl's shoulder.

"Ed? Are you in there?" Alphonse's voice sounded faint from the other side of the door; not sounding worried. Edward motioned for the door and cleared his throat before opening it.

"'Ey, you're late. I'm hungry." He breathed while faking his expression.

Alphonse let himself into the unit and responded, "Ah, yeah. Solomonova almost didn't want me to go home." But as he stepped inside, Edward also stepped forward. The latter wanted to look back at the girl to check if she was still there; hoping that she hid herself, but faking his facial expression became more important.

"Is there a problem?" Alphonse's brows wrinkled and asked with a grin, "Are you hiding something?" and his left brow went up his forehead as he added, "or someone?" With that, he pushed himself into the apartment. "Seriously, I am also an occupant of this unit; you can't bar me, Ed." Walking towards the dining area, he gave the living and the sitting room a sweeping look with Edward on the defensive.

"Wh-What? What the…? I'm not hiding anything!"

"Yeah, I can see that." Edward could almost feel the smirk on his brother's face even if all he sees was his back.

"And what the hell are you looking in my bedroom for?"

"Just checking." And Edward received a sweet smile it was most irritating, "But why stop me?"

"No, I wasn't stopping you, I just thought…" Edward couldn't think of an alibi as his brother reached for the plates.

"Thought?"

"Of going out."

"Going out?"

"Yeah."

Alphonse blinked.

"But you didn't go out, you went in with me." Sometimes, Alphonse is infuriating, Edward thought.

"Okay! Okay! I was hiding someone! And don't look!" He added as he saw Alphonse giving the living room another look. "She's not here anymore!"

"She?" Alphonse's eyes narrowed. But with a shrug, he opened the packed dinner, "Oho…" and put it down on the table, still with an evil smirk on his face. "Too bad she didn't cook for you.

Letting his brother's smirk pass, he answered, "Yeah, she's a she." But in a softer voice he said more to himself, "and I wonder where she went." And gave the living room another check.

Alphonse did not miss the last phrase. I wonder where she went... If he was hiding her in this house, how come he doesn't know where he hid her?

"Maybe you ought to check your bedroom again. It was dark." He suggested as he bent down to sit.

Thud

"Aw! What was that for?" Alphonse shouted. Rubbing his head where Edward hit him with a porcelain plate.

"I didn't bed her if that's what you're thinking! I'll be jailed! She's minor! I'm not that desperate, Al!" He then eyed their dinner. "Is that-"

"Oh…" Alphonse's eyes widened, "…A minor…Hmm…The plot thickens - No! It was a joke!" he added as Edward aimed his plate again at him.

Before his brother could think of another taunt, he asked as he sat down, "Is that rabbit stew?"

"Yeah. But I dunno, I'm starting to doubt it. I think I just heard it bark." Alphonse welcomed the change of topic, but wished that the girl was not another figment of his brother's imagination.

Edward laughed and gave the empty sitting room one last look.

No one was there.


"Ed! Ed!" Alphonse shouted; shaking the resisting body of his brother. The body does not want to be moved and its head bowed. "What's happening to you?" He asked again, but still to no avail. "Edward! Edward! Ed-WARD!" He squeezed the shoulders and shook his brother's body violently, but the body does not want to be moved.

"Alphonse? Edward? What's happening in there?" The younger man heard his landlady on the other side of the door but ignored the urgent raps of the woman. What on earth is happening to you? Why are you so stiff? He slapped the older Elric to see if the latter would slap back, but when the body didn't even move, he cupped his brother's face and stared in disbelief at what he saw: a mouth gaping open and a pair of wide blue and green eyes staring at nothing. Blue and green. Blue and green. Blue and green. Blue and green. Blue… and…green? Panicking, he shook his brother harder while shouting louder than ever, "What the fucking - ALPHONSE! OPEN – hell – THE FUCKING DOOR! is happening - THIS IS MY GODDAMN HOUSE! – to you, EDWARD!" His brother just stared at him, but he knew that his brother does not OPEN THE DOOR, ALPHONSE OR I'LL CALL THE POLICE! see him.

Finally registering Frau Schmidt's angry bellows at the other side of the unit's door made him think that he would see a dragon in a sleeping gown unleashed to destroy what remained of the room, he went closer to the door while not taking his eyes off his brother, expecting any movement from him.

"Alphonse, can you expl -"

"Clara!" He cried while suddenly holding the old woman's hands, "Edward's…I don't know what's happening to him…" Desperation emanated from his voice, his eyes suddenly begging the old woman to do something.

Old Clara did not waste time as she gave the whole unit a look, but it wasn't without difficulty. There she saw the portrait of Solomonova swinging sideways, the legs of the dining table wobbling, the glassware shattered to many pieces peppering the whole unit, the three legs of the sitting room chairs and the torn curtains. While trying to figure out where she should land her feet, she interrogated, "What happened here?" then commented, "Did you have a fight? You basically turned the whole thing down; I'm surprised I still have some floor to step on." She then sat tentatively on one of the chairs near the front door, testing if it could carry her weight, lest she become a part of the ruins.

"I…Well, he…he did this…" Alphonse stuttered. "He just woke up, we were having breakfast, then suddenly…he just practically broke everything in sight." He then looked at his unmoving brother.

"What happened to him, anyway?" the lady stood up and approached the older brother.

"That's what I don't know, Clara." Alphonse panicked again. "I was trying to stop him, then he suddenly stopped and he didn't move anymore," he continued while following the woman.

She stopped when she noticed the expression on Edward's face and Alphonse saw her crinkle her forehead. His heart beat faster and wished that the woman would not ask about the look. But Clara recovered, and shook the older man. "Edward? Hello, can you hear me? Hmm. He's stiff." She tried to hold the man on both shoulders and tried to shake him again without looking at the face, and still the body gave the same response. "He can feel it. He resists it," she declared and gave the face another look, noting the wide eyes then started looking at the younger man again, feeling uncomfortable as if she already has an idea on what happened to the older Elric.

"What do you reckon?" Alphonse asked.

"He…You ought to bring him to the hospital…So," the lady sighed. "Seems that we can't do anything anymore about that," she gestured to his brother from head to foot. "…leave him to the experts…and…" she gave the room another exhausted, estimating look.

"Don't worry, Clara…" Alphonse did not miss the gaze, "…I'm going to pay everything."

A crash of plates was heard from the kitchen.

"Good thing you know that. Just tell me if you're going to bring him to the hospital, my husband can bring you there." She then tapped the younger man's shoulder.

"Thank you…uh…sorry too…for this…" He replied as Clara gave him a smile and closed the door.

He looked at the doorknob and sighed tiredly.

He went back to where his brother was standing and gave the stiff body another shake.

"Edward…"

Edward stared at Alphonse.

"Edward? Ed, are you alright?" Alphonse asked right away, forcing a smile on his lips.

There was nothing.

Alphonse put down his hands and looked at his brother so close that his nose almost touched the latter's. He gazed at those blue and green eyes that told him nothing; that distant stare unseeing and steady, his dropped jaw and mouth giving him a look worse than thunderstruck.

"Edward…?" The younger man whispered.

Edward blinked.

Alphonse waited.

And waited.

But there was no answer.

Alphonse tried to look to the direction his brother was looking and murmured, "Whatever the hell you are looking at, make sure that it is not that lime tree across the street." With that, he held his brother's hand and cried for some time.


Yekaterina Solomonova. She greeted Alphonse and puffs of smoke escaped from her mouth, giving the lady a terrifying aura. But the lady is less than terrifying. Her very short fringe barely reaching her eyebrows, her brown hair cut very short and curled at the ends to hug her cheeks, and long fingers suspending an ivory cigarette holder in midair, and with large dark eyes staring straight at him, the lady looked more melodramatic than terrifying.

"Alphonse," she gestured to her cigarette and ended its life on the ashtray. Knowing too well that her secretary tends to choke whenever there is cigarette smoke two meters away.

"Send your brother to Daldorf," she commanded as she motioned the man to sit.

"Daldorf?" Alphonse asked in disbelief. Yeah, I'm sending my brother to a hospital, not to Daldorf.

"You do not need to tell that. I'm going to send him to a hospital; have him checked." He frowned and eyed the dollar brooch on the Russian's black blouse curiously, as if already knowing where the conversation will go.

"Daldorf is a hospital," and the lady rested her palm on her chin, testing the reaction of the man.

Daldorf. That is what people say when someone is fit to go there. You say something like that and you'll go to Daldorf. You do something like that and they'll drag you to Daldorf. Are you from Daldorf? Off you go to Daldorf, my son! Sure. Alphonse observed that some people thought Edward must really be thrown to Daldorf. Hell, those people are so oblivious to the fact that there is another world that he wanted to drag everybody to Daldorf.

Alphonse gritted his teeth and hissed, "I won't send my brother to a mental asylum."

"You must." The Russian leaned on her desk and continued, "Hallucinations, speaking gibberish, howling and extreme silence…what more can you ask?" she argued while doing senseless gestures with her hands.

The man's jaws softened. "Yeah. What more can I ask? Maybe one day he'll just kill me thinking I'm a Nazi or something." Or maybe one of those secret societies which we brushed elbows with in search for a seemingly nonexistent uranium bomb. He thought grimly.

"But…", he swallowed. "…nobody will take care of him there," he countered.

"It's a hospital, Al, chrissakes," Yekaterina ridiculed and chuckled. "What will you do to him? Lock him up yourself in your house?"

Alphonse inhaled deeply, feeling angrier, "In case you didn't notice, they lock people up in Daldorf, chain them even." And started rubbing his forehead.

"Al, you're brother's…" Yekaterina faltered, but not knowing any other word, she continued, "cra…"

"MYB-ROTHER'S – NOT – CRA - ZY!" Barely did the last word escaped the Russian's lips when Alphonse angrily pounded on the mahogany table.

Feeling his blood rushing up his ears, he continued, "He's just…" Just what? She's right.

"He's just…sick…" He sighed dejectedly and closed his eyes, ignoring the pain on his fist.

He heard Yekaterina pull the drawer and opened his eyes. He did not like asking people for money, much less from his boss whose money he knew too well came from her shady businesses. But when you have a brother who goes topsy-turvy, then you have to hang on anything, even if it is a knife.

"I have a condition though," the woman said as she reached for the lighter on her right.

"Tsk. What is it?" He did not want to let the money slip from his hands now, so he did not argue anymore.

"I'll bring you to Daldorf. See for yourself," and she exhaled nicotine right at Alphonse's face.

He held his breath and leaned on his chair.

"Is that so?" the younger Elric murmured. And in a flash of a second, the Russian was left to contemplate the bare door of her office, her money, and the pounding footsteps of her secretary.


"Ed, wake up. Time for breakfast," Alphonse lightly shook his brother's shoulder. The latter obliged and sat up on his bed.

"I'm sorry; I wasn't able to wake you up earlier. I overslept." With this, Alphonse held his brother's arms and his brother up, leading him to the dining area. "Where you able to sleep well? I think you did, you are more cooperative today," the younger Elric remarked while he took the two of them to the table.

As soon as he sat his brother on his chair, he proceeded with the older one's breakfast. "We only have bread today, sadly, but hey, we have margarine. Such luxury to have it these days." Alphonse sat himself after he poured coffee for the older one. "Don't worry about me; I already ate before I woke you up. Go on, Ed. Eat. You can't always have soup. You need some real energy." Not that we are going to do much today. He thought.

"You are always looking by the window; did you notice Clara getting firewood? I think she does. Yesterday, I went to the storage and it's still full, but when I came in there today, the wood isn't on the same arrangement as I left them last night."

"…"

"But I was thinking, why just not let her be? Anyway, firewood is hard to come by, but at least she must ask from us? A permission wouldn't hurt at all. What d'you think?"

"…"

"Anyway, One of Katya's clubs closed. So, I think my paycheck will be delayed. You should see her; she's not the lady we knew anymore. She's getting poorer. But what can we do, really? We can't even solve our own problems…"

I can't even find a way to cure your illness… He added as an afterthought. "So you ought to eat that bread now, you haven't touched anything." He nagged.

Finally, the older Elric took the bread and ate a bite; his first response to Alphonse's babbles.

Alphonse smiled. "That's right, how about the coffee?"

"…"

"Maybe you can drink that later. You remember Hitler, I believe. He's getting so much support right now. And anti-Jew sentiments and xenophobia are stronger than ever. I am thinking of moving us out of Germany. We may never know, one day, people would start throwing rocks at our unit, forcing us to get out. Or maybe Clara will kick us out."

Edward took a sip of coffee and took another bite at the bread. He then pushed his plate forward.

"Just that? You only touched it twice."

"…"

Knowing all too well that his brother decided not to eat anymore, he stood up and walked his brother towards the window, where he sat him on a chair. The night sky was starting to lift up, and the familiar twinge of orange started to lit up the room.

Alphonse kneeled beside his brother and gazed at his face. It bore the same blank expression he dared not to look at for too long. He beheld the blue and green eyes that told him nothing. That vacant stare not wanting to be disturbed. That body almost not wanting to be moved. He held his brother's hand and bowed his head.

"I feel…so useless, Ed. Just go back here…please…"

Not expecting any response, he stood up and went out of the room.


He was swimming. And there were many glittering silvery fishes that swam with him. He tried to get away from where he was, but those singing, glittering, silvery fishes followed him and continued dancing in the sea of grey bathed in moonlight.

He swam faster, but the fishes only followed and compressed; not leaving him any room to breathe. Suddenly, a fish-man with a fish mask swam towards him and banged Elric's head on the glass aquarium while screaming obscenities at him. He held Edward by the hair and dived to the deepest parts of the aquarium, not letting the older Elric go.

As they went deeper, the singing fishes made their way into Edward's mouth.

He wanted to get away from all these fishes filling every inch of his body and this fish-man. He started banging the two of them on the glass walls and strangled the fish-man. He freed his right hand and dug his fingernails on the fish-man's mask, making sure his nails would dig the flesh beneath. As red colored the grey waters, he gave the fish-man's neck one last tightening of his hand and let go.

He looked at his arms for a long time and then touched his face. He needed to get away from the fishes. He wanted the fishes out of him.

He made sure the waters around him became crimson.

His face stung and his arms sported long, angry wounds screaming pain. Still, the fishes were inside him.

He wondered if he could just go inside himself.

And he closed his eyes.

From a short distance, striped fishes started closing around him.

There in the shadows of his mind, he knew he was safe.


"What did you do to yourself?" Alphonse heard himself whine as he dabbed iodine onto his brother's arms.

"If you're frustrated at something, don't hurt yourself. You're body is not doing you anything wrong."

But he suddenly hit his forehead with his palm, "Yeah, you're mind's doing you something wrong," and flopped sitting on the floor in front of his brother's bed.

"Edward. Tell me. What's happening? Just tell me. I'll try to…No…I'll help," He whispered, looking at his brother. Waiting for an answer.

He leaned closer and looked at the older Elric face to face. Still, that blank stare flooded him, but something was amiss. Edward was looking at him with moon eyes and as fast as a blink, his hands were already on Alphonse's neck.

"Stop! Edward! It's me, Alph-" He pried his brother's hands away from his neck and tried to stand but the attempt made the two of them fall on the floor. Edward quickly recovered and straddled him; tightening his hands around his brother's neck.

Silently cursing at his brother for sitting on his abdomen, he gathered his strength to shake Edward off, but to no avail.

Feeling his veins on his head pulsing for air and blood, he wrapped his hands again on his brother's, but this time, he only bent the little finger backward sending Edward to loosen his hold on him. He wasted no time and pushed his brother, but as he tried to stand, Edward got hold of his feet which made him hit the wooden floors. He wished then that Clara would hear that, but still, he tried to crawl away with futile results, for the more he tried to get away, the more the other one pulled him closer by the feet.

Tasting something coppery, he crawled away all the more rigorously. He stretched out his hand and reached for the bedside table.

Crash.

He stood up and tried to talk away from his brother. Still gasping for breath, he panted, "Edward, stop, it's me. Don't you…recognize? Please, you don't want to hurt me, you said so. I don't want to hurt you, too. Stop this, please. Hear me out!"

But Edward lunged at him and as soon as the younger Elric felt the coldness of the wall he had to face sideways to avoid a metal-fisted punch from his brother. He kicked Edward on the abdomen and went to the kitchen. But the other one was fast. He felt his hair pulled back and the next thing he knew, there was a searing pain on the side of his head. His legs wobbled, and he slowly fell on his knees.

He turned his eyes on his brother.

His eyes stung and there was a lump on his throat that he wanted to let out.

"Edward…Why?"

He choked his tears back, and cursed himself when it fell.

He gazed upward at Edward who was in front of him. But he could only see his outline. Indifference lead Alphonse to just watch his brother walk closer towards him. But instead of banging Alphonse's head once more against the wall, Edward stood in front of it and banged his head.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Repeatedly.

Not believing in what he was seeing, Alphonse tugged at his brother's pajamas to stop him, as it became obvious that the older one was starting to kill himself, so he tried to stand up using his brother's body as support. Not minding his own pain, he wrapped his arms around his brother, who was miraculously not resisting, and pulled him away from the wall. Sitting the two of them on the bed, Alphonse contemplated the bright red spots on the wall and started cleaning his brother's head.

"You should bring the two of you to the hospital, Alphonse," The younger Elric almost jumped in surprise as Clara's hand touched his shoulder.

"Ah…Yes…I will…I'm…"

"You don't need to explain. You're cleaning him first?"

"Mm. Yes."

"Let me do that, mend your own head," the old lady snatched the towel from Alphonse and started cleaning the older one's head.

"Can I sleep?" was Alphonse's exasperated question.

"No. If you do, this might be your last night."

The prospect seemed seductive, especially if your brother almost killed you.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Clara." He confessed.

"You just wait. And have faith on your brother. I'm sure he'll come back." Clara assured.


"Edward", the dog called him from outside the aquarium.

The man looked at the dog and wondered if it is good to follow its call. He was able to rid himself of the fish-man, he banged the poor man's head on the glass wall, but he still felt the fishes inside him. He wanted the fishes out of him. And after that, the girl, he needed to find the girl and ask her why he was inside that stupid aquarium.

"Come with me, we'll look for her," the dog continued, as if hearing what the man thought.

He stood up, or more precisely, floated in front of the dog and replied, "Let us follow the fishes."

Next thing he knew, the dog was already floating beside him.

"You were outside this place earlier." He remarked.

"Yes, I am. But you wished that I should be here, well, here I am." The dog responded.

"You said we are going to follow the fishes?" It asked.

"Yes," and they swam side by side.

In the shimmering darkness of grey, he asked, "Look, you seem nice enough, would you answer my questions?"

"I'll try to..." The dog responded grimly and swam faster towards the blue-striped yellow fishes.

"Why am I he-"

"Because you chose to be here..." interrupted the dog.

"It's not the girl who did this to you, Edward, it was you who willingly went here..." it continued.

"How?"

"You went inside, deeply inside yourself." It mused.

In the endless expanse of that aquarium, the grey shimmer of the moon lighted the whole place and echoed insanity in all corners as glittering butterflies and floating fishes swam side by side in the silver waters.

It did not bother Edward that the dog knew his name, or it speaks, for in this world of insanity, it is life and life only. Edward looked upwards to the moon and remarked, "Sometimes, the light blinds me..."

"Everyone else does, and sometimes, they slip into the darkness, for they think it is more comforting..."

"But is it really worth it? To continue being in the dark?"

"For some, yes, for they are not brave enough, as for some, they brave it and get used to that much light...to that much truth..."

"Yes, truth is rather disconcerting at first." Edward mused. "But…being in the darkness…it feels so wrong..." he continued.

"You just want to go home, Edward." The dog commented.

Suddenly a wild flash of colors flooded and lighted the waters sending the two to cover their eyes and swim back.

"What's happening?" Edward asked.

"I don't...wait, what's that?" the dog answered back.

The fishes around them scattered and swam away from what seemed to be a big orange fish swimming, floating towards their path.

"Is that...a demon?" asked the dog innocently while avoiding the scratches the striped fishes are giving to him.

"No, it's the big singing orange shark!" shouted Edward as he dragged the dog away by the tail. Then he continued, "That shoots out toads that fly!"

He struggled to swim upwards to avoid the obnoxious fish, and the dog was proving to be a nuisance.

"Stop moving! You're bringing us both down!"

"Try battling against these flying toads, they have teeth, you jerk, they bite!" barked the dog.

A bald dog and a broken ankle later, Edward saw a shimmering black through all the screaming red, orange and yellow surrounding the waters. He swam faster and let go of the dog that barked and wagged his tail happily.

"Now, what, dog?" he asked, annoyed by the gurgled barking.

"Barnabas, if you will," corrected the dog.

"I think I heard that name somewhere…" Edward continued to swim towards the water's surface, the singing shark was nowhere to be found and the striped fishes floated serenely around the two. Feeling elated that he was close to the surface, he closed his eyes.

"Yes, you did," replied Barnabas. "Open your eyes."

Edward's eyes beheld somebody with blue and green eyes with a shock of floating orange hair that screamed red and yellow. Her lower body was outside the aquarium, while the upper part was there with them.

She stretched out her arms and told him, "YoU fOuNd mY dOg, mIsTeR, BuT yOu'Re HuRt. i'M hUrT, tOo. tAkE mY HaNd."

So he took the girl's hand and next thing he knew, he was beside a trashcan.

"Where are we? Oh, yeah, we're in Germany." He commented as he tried to stand up to no avail.

"The big singing fish got you? Tsk. Sorry for that," said Barnabas.

"Yeah. Thanks to you, you heavy smelly dog." Edward barked back and found a support from the trashcan.

"BaRnAbAs – hE hUrTeD," reprimanded the girl.

"hI, mIsTEr," she then greeted him; her hair a somber black, "yOu WeRe SucH a LoNg WAy iNsiDe, i tHiNk."

He looked at her mismatched eyes and asked, "Why me?"

"yOu cHoSe Me. i fOlloWed yOu." She answered simply. She then went closer to him and planted a kiss on his forehead. "tHaT's BeTtEr." She clapped her hands in delight.

"We Go NoW, mIsTeR. YoU fOuNd My DoG, tHaNk YoU." And as she waved goodbye, the dog, the swimming butterflies and floating fishes with bubbles followed her pink shadows.

Edward blinked.

And they were gone.


"Berlin is a big city, and today's the inauguration of Hitler; we already have our hands full, sir," the police said, "Maybe he just gone out for a walk."

Exasperated, Alphonse countered, "I'm sorry, officer, but my brother's catatonic. We cannot even move him; he can't just stand and walk."

But the door of the unit opened and Edward emerged limping towards his brother.

"I'm home…" Edward declared weakly.

"Sometimes, people do that…" sighed the police officer a matter-of-factly.

"Thank you, officer. You may go now and kiss Hitler's behind," replied Alphonse, making sure his sarcasm overflowed.

The police officer appeared offended and quickly went out of the unit.

"Edward! You're back!" cried Alphonse as he wrapped his arms around him. He felt his brother's legs wobble.

"What's wrong, Edward?" he loosened his hold.

"I'm…"

The older one was overcome with coughing that sent him to his knees. Alphonse quickly went to the kitchen to fill a glass of water, but as he came back, he heard the crash of the glass he was holding on the floor.

Edward spat the fishes. Orange, red, blue, green and yellow fishes went out of his mouth. First it was just one, then two, and then there was a whole mouthful coming out of him. Floating, flying fishes swam their way out of the window with the glitters from their mouths peppering the room's airspace.

Shaking himself out of his shock, Alphonse went to his brother's side and rubbed his back, but still, swarms of fishes made their way out of Edward's mouth, followed by a glob of multi-colored saliva that dripped to the floor.

With much panting and some more coughing, the fishes were gone.

"Let's get you back to bed, Edward." Alphonse suggested, worry written on all sides of his face.

Edward wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt and faced his brother. It was only then that Alphonse saw his brother's golden orbs.

"I've spent enough time there already, Alphonse, I'll let it go," Edward opened his hand and a blue-striped orange fish flew slowly, silently.

Alphonse smiled and sighed, "Edward, welcome back…"

And he wrapped his arms around his brother and cried for quite some time.


The girl is actually Delirium, one of Neil Gaiman's characters. This is supposed to be a crossover story, but since not many people read crossovers, I thought of just posting it here in the FMA fandom. Again, I don't own Delirium, she is a Gaiman brainchild.

Thank you for reading my story! Comments and suggestions are most welcome!

:)