Fullmetal Alchemist is the property of Hiromu Arakawa.

Exchange

by Tanya J. Ramsey

He stared at his son as he slept on the worn cot. Three months had passed since Edward had appeared on this side of the gate. It seemed, with every day that slid by, a fraction of himself had been stolen away. It was almost like a part of him still remained at the gate, waiting. He never spoke of it, and the look in his eyes made it plain that the time had come and gone when they could act as father and son.

Hoenheim never asked.

He waited out the days, waited for anything to return the boy to himself. It seemed he waited in vain.

Edward breathed deeply, but he didn't sleep. He hadn't slept well in a very long time. When he did sleep, he was tormented by dreams of monsters that changed shape, and the rending screams of his brother. Why now? Sure, he'd had nightmares before, but nothing like this. Never before had he woken up in such a state of terror, a scream bitten off before it could be heard. As he heard his father leave the room, he reached up and felt his chest, right over his heart. It ached at times, as though it were still pierced through. There was another ache there besides the physical. Al… was he alive? Was he human, or still encased in metal? Was he dead? His last sight of his brother was through a haze of pain and blood. Even as he opened his mouth to speak, his life was slipping from him. The last sound he heard was Rose's scream.

And then he was at the gate.

It seemed as though eternity passed there.

But it was different than last time. This time, he didn't approach the doors. Something in his heart said, 'wait'. Lifetimes passed him by in those seconds. People appeared next to him, only to vanish through the doors. Nobody noticed him there.

And his hold was slipping.

Suddenly, Envy stood before him. 'My brother', he thought, and felt no anger. 'Is this what happens when you die? You lose all rage and remorse, all hatred and fear?' He spoke to the creature before him in a voice that wasn't his own. Before long, Envy disappeared through the doors too.

Something tugged at him then, sharply. He felt something like a surge rush through him, and wondered if it was time.

And then he saw Al. 'My real brother', he thought, and felt tears fall from his eyes. And Al was real, and he was whole, and Ed felt regret fall away. 'It worked', he thought, but couldn't remember what it was that worked.

And then he was opening his eyes, and he was still crying.

And Al was gone.

Ed stopped his thoughts there. It was all wrong, all of it. Everything he had done was for Al. It couldn't be a waste, he couldn't allow it. He sat up on the bed, massaging his chest without being aware of it.

Everything was so hollow. He felt so far removed from himself. He was supposed to be dead. Was he really alive? Was he real? Was he real? He shivered as fears he'd never had before washed through him like ice. He had to prove it to himself, just once more.

Even as he told himself he was being stupid, he pulled open the drawer of the bedside table and retrieved the pocketknife that was stashed there. Catching his lower lip in his teeth, he flipped open the blade and held it near his fingertip. Hesitating just a second, he made a quick slash, and winced at the small pain. Anxiously, he waited a moment with his hand clenched. Then, carefully, he uncurled his fingers… and sighed in relief. It still bled. Just as it had bled six times before. He really was alive, and not some crazy abomination.

He was startled to feel wetness on his cheeks.

What had he become? Truly, if he wasn't a homunculus, what was he instead? He'd been different on the other side of the gate. Was it the loss of Al, or the loss of his own life that had reduced him to this state? Even though blood rushed through his veins, his heart beat, his lungs processed air…

Was he still, somehow, undead?

And could he ever be the person he was before?

Ed placed the knife back in the drawer and slid it shut. His head felt so heavy.

Clenching his teeth, he suddenly rose to his feet. "I've got a good pair of legs." He muttered evenly. Even if he was trapped in this world, it didn't mean he had to accept it. They told him that searching for the Philosopher's Stone was a fool's errand, but he found it. They told him that the dead couldn't be brought back to life, but he was living proof that they could. Nobody could convince him that he couldn't return home.

He'd see Al again. With or without alchemy….

He'd find a way.

Hoenheim opened the door the next morning to find Ed sitting on the floor, packing. He smiled softly, seeing the determination in his son's eyes.

"Planning a trip, Edward?" Ed gestured to a clipboard containing an article. "Look."

Hoenheim picked it up, glancing at the title on the cover. "A Method of Reaching Extreme Altitudes…. Liquid Fuel Rocket. By Robert Hutchins Goddard."

"He's an American. But there's another guy studying the same thing in Transylvania right now."

Hoenheim smiled, fighting the sudden quaver in his voice. "Wouldn't happen to be named Dracula would he?" His joke was weak, he wasn't even sure if Ed understood the reference. Either way, he didn't laugh.

"Nah, it's Hermann Oberth. He's been a student here in Munich. I'm gonna see him."

The last part was said half-whispered, and Hoenheim dropped his head a little, all traces of his pained smile fading away. So this was how it would be. Only, instead of him leaving, it would be his son. "You mind telling me why?"

Ed's hands stilled, clenching around the shirt he'd been folding. "He thinks he can get to outer space in a rocket. No one knows exactly what's up there beyond the atmosphere… maybe it's like the gate. A portal between different worlds."

His father looked at him skeptically. "Haven't you studied Einstein's theories?"

Ed grabbed a pair of socks, tossing them into the suitcase. "No one believes him." But there was some doubt as he said it.

His father smiled again, more warmly this time. "If you can't use alchemy, you'll go by machines. Is that the plan son?"

Ed paused, desperation tightening his features. Was it all pointless? Was he acting like a fool, chasing shadows? But no, it couldn't all be wasted effort! "I know that my alchemy did something. I saw Al put back together at the gate. I thought it was for me…" His voice fell as sorrow crept in. "But then I woke up here… and until I understand why, I have to keep working."

"You knew the only way to keep your body and mind was to come to this side, so you did it without thinking… subconsciously as Freud would say."

Ed paused, looking down at his right hand… once more changed from the flesh it had been for such a brief time… and not even automail any longer. "Still… when Al returned to me, I lost again. I should have found a better method!"

"But nothing's ever perfect," consoled his father, "haven't you realized that yet? Earth turns on a tilted axis, just doing the best it can."

Ed stopped completely, placing both hands on his knees. "Maybe that's true. Maybe what I'm doing is pointless. But… but I…" He bit his lip, staring up at the ceiling as he forced control. "I can't live the rest of my life without at least trying."

Closing the lid on the suitcase, he stood.

Hoenheim stood as well. "So you're determined to go then?"

Ed slipped into his coat, pulling his hair free from the collar. "I have to."

Walking to the door, he opened it into beaming sunlight. Hoenheim followed him.

Ed paused, his back still turned. "It's wrong… I thought I made an equal exchange. My body, mind, and soul… for his. Yet… here I am, still alive. So does that mean that Dante was right, except to the opposite extreme? And I got something for nothing?" Ed froze as another thought occurred, and he felt his fears rise anew. "Or does it mean, that in reality, Al… wasn't…"

He felt his father shift behind him, and his warm voice washed over him. "You boys had a long journey together."

Ed's eyes widened at the conviction in his tone, and he turned to face the older man. Hoenheim continued. "All the people you helped along the way. All the hardships… the pain of losing friends you loved. The determination, sweat, and blood… don't you think… that, may have been the price you paid?"

Ed stared at his father, rolling the words around in him mind. It was more than just comfort… it sounded… it sounded like… truth. He smiled. Without a word, he tuned, and walked away.

As his son disappeared around the corner, Hoenheim felt his own smile slide away. The look on his son's face before he turned… it would stay with him forever. For just a moment, there had been love in his eyes.

"I swear to you Ed… I swear to do whatever it takes to help you find your way home again. I won't make the same mistake twice."

Even if it meant his own life, he would do whatever it took… whatever equivalent exchange demanded… to restore his scattered family, and make amends for the damage he'd caused.

Whatever the cost.

-End