Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or its characters.
I've been working on this for over a month now, but now it's finally finished. I got the idea after watching "Rain of Sorrows" (FMAB E5) for the first time. I haven't really seen any other fanfiction dealing with the aftermath of this episode had it all gone wrong, so I wrote this up. If you pick on me for one handed alchemy, then watch FMA E8 "The Philosopher's Stone". Anyway, read on.
"Brother, don't. Just run away!" Al reached out, knowing his brother wouldn't listen. He never did.
Ed positioned the blade transmuted from his automail. "You idiot! I'm not gonna leave you behind, Al!" The man with a scar had trashed Al, leaving his armor shattered and useless. Ed would fight now, for him, and he wouldn't give in until he and Al were safe. Ed had a big-brother complex larger than Colonel Mustang's ego, and while normally Al didn't mind the over-protectiveness, this man was in this fight to kill and Ed had no backup to draw from.
It was a lost battle before it had begun.
From Al's unfortunate position, he could barely discern the man's muttered words, but something in his movements changed. Before, they had been directed, but now they were precise. Ed charged and Al gasped as broken and fried pieces of automail burst apart. Ed gaped, and Al thought along the same lines with him.
This is bad. This is bad.
Al cried out as the man approached his brother. "Brother…run away!" But Ed only scooted back an inch before turning over and collapsing on the wet pavement. "Brother! BROTHER!"
The man continued forward till he stopped right over Ed. He gave Ed a moment to pray to god as a last plea, but Ed refused. Why are you talking to him? Al shook, wishing he weren't so useless where he was. Get up and run! Alchemy didn't even occur to Alphonse as he stared at his brother lying in the street so calmly, like he was resigned to this fate. Ed bargained for Al's life, demanding the man's word not to harm his little brother if Ed died without struggle.
Al's phantom heart stopped. "Brother…"
The man agreed to Ed's final request.
"No, Brother. What are you trying to do?" Al couldn't understand. Everything was happening too fast. It was like he was back four years ago reaching for Ed's hand as his body was torn away from him. There was nothing he could think to do but scream out in fear and confusion as his world was ripped away from him. "What are you thinking? Get up and run!" The man had just said he wouldn't hurt him, so why wouldn't Ed just listen to him this one time? Ed still had a chance. What was he thinking?
If Ed wouldn't listen, Al had to try the other person who could stop this. "Stop… Don't touch him!" he pleaded with the would-be assassin. He didn't even hesitate. His arm still moved closer to Ed's unmoving body. Al begged, "No! No, you can't…! STOP IT!"
The man's palm pressed against the side of Ed's head. An electrical shock pulsed through Ed's body, jerking him inhumanly taut for a moment before he sagged limply on the ground. Instantly blood rushed from under him to mingle in the street puddles.
"Brother…" Al whispered. Ed didn't answer him. "Brother…?" The pain and fear settled into his soul, and anger pushed him to action. Using his bulky metal arms, Al dragged his crumbling body forward.
The man looked back at him through his tinted glasses. No remorse or pity lay in his eyes as he coolly regarded the young brother. True to his word, he left without making a single move against Al.
He didn't get far.
A gun shot rang out with an accompanying groan of thunder overhead. Somewhere in a distant dimension that Al had once cared about, Roy Mustang and his troops shouted and rushed after the man with a scar as he tore through the streets of Central. Al didn't even hear them. He was too focused on reaching that uncharacteristically unanimated form of his brother. He refused to accept that Ed was truly dead, not until he saw him close up.
Al's one arm fell off, but desperately he hauled his armor the last few feet so his helmet rested parallel to Ed's head. The blond hair covered the side of his face, and the rest of his distinctive features were buried in the crook of his elbow, like he had fallen asleep on the road. But blood streamed through his bangs and escaped him from other various points on his body. Worst of all, that telltale sign of movement in his chest was just not there.
Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist and older brother, was dead.
Someone gasped. Al couldn't look away from the sight of his brother, but soon another stunned figure joined the two of them. Riza Hawkeye knelt down in the same desperate manner Al had crawled.
"Did Scar…?" She breathed for confirmation, unbelievingly. Al didn't move save to reach out to Ed, his arm falling a few inches short. Hawkeye sucked in a breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob. Hastily she threw on a protective mask that shielded her from immediate pain. She left the two of them to report back to Mustang.
Al made no motion to acknowledge that she had been there. He could only stare at the empty body. "Brother…" he called for comfort from the only person who could give it. "Brother!" Al started to dry sob. The loose bits of metal rained down as the armor shook with all the grief of a fourteen year old boy.
Hurried footsteps rushed toward the brothers. Colonel Mustang stopped a few feet away and stared. Hawkeye stood off to one side behind him. Neither said a word as Al began to scream.
"What were you thinking?!" Al pounded his one fist, still rattling with dry sobs. "Brother! I told you to run. Why didn't you? He wouldn't have hurt me. Why can't you just listen for once?! It's not fair. Do you hear me? It's not FAIR!" Al howled, releasing in words everything his heart couldn't feel. "Did you ever think for once what it would be like for me to live without you? I can't feel things; I can't get access to research like you can. I can't make it through every night without your obnoxious snoring to distract me from my fears. I can't face all the scary things we go through without you there to hold me together. I can't– I can't put my armor back together without your alchemy, and I couldn't have made it this far if you hadn't bound my soul to this armor in the first place." Al's hollow cries echoed through the alley. "Don't you see?!" He gasped. "I need you. I can't make it without you. We have to help each other; that's what we agreed on, right? We have to help each other. That means we can't just give up and die!"
Mustang stepped forward, but stopped when Al pounded the pavement with his fist again. "So why did you do this?" Al slowly began to turn the bulk of his metal over. "You're stupid and selfish. Why did you think offering your life would save me?"
Al lay on his back, empty eyes staring into the rain. He watched it patter against his armor and slip inside the gaping hole of his side. Survival is the only way. Living is the only option. "How am I supposed to do that now?"
Hawkeye moved closer to Al, almost as if she wished to comfort him in his anguish, but he didn't respond to her presence. Mustang removed his coat and crouched down, something in his movements betraying the sharp anger and regret that lay beneath his hardened stare. Gently he covered Ed's small body with the military coat. It hid the worst of the damage done to the young alchemist. Mustang paused over the scene before pushing himself up and striding away with restrained anger coursing through his being.
Scar would pay for this.
On the ground and no longer shaking, Al realized that if he didn't move, the rain would pool around his blood seal and wipe the last bits of his soul away. He could give up and just let death take him. Would it really matter so much if he did?
…yes. It would.
Ed had given up. He thought he was sacrificing his life for Al's, but all he had done was give up fighting and allowed death to take him. Ed had given up hope, but Al wouldn't.
Anger and determination pulsed through Alphonse. He turned over. "I won't give up," he told Ed. Al reached over and let his leather finger become slick in Ed's pooling blood. "One of us should at least have the chance to live." Then with precise movements, Al began to draw a transmutation circle. A large one, and not one unrecognized.
Hawkeye gasped, realizing the meaning of Al's words. "Alphonse, what do you think you are doing?"
Mustang heard the shock in her voice and turned back. His eyes widened as he recognized the intricate pattern of the human transmutation circle Al was drawing. He stormed back the few steps he had taken. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, echoing Hawkeye.
Al didn't stop, didn't answer, didn't seem to even hear them.
Colonel Mustang stood over Al's chipping armor. Harshly he demanded, "Al, what do you think this is going to accomplish?"
Al didn't spare him an answer.
Shaking with grief and fury, Mustang shouted. "Alphonse Elric, your brother died so you would have a chance to live! Are you just going to throw that away? You have nothing to give in trade."
Al's helmet snapped up at him and snarled, "You're wrong! I have a life, and it's mine to give! Don't try to stop me. Besides," he quieted for a moment, "what kind of a life would I have now? I'm just a pile of heartbroken scrap metal. If I still have a life, then I should be allowed to use it the way I want."
Mustang clenched his teeth. Al went back to drawing, and he was close to completing the alchemic circle. Hawkeye took over negotiating, her reason striking perilously close to the one tender spot of the Elrics' past.
"This isn't going to work, Alphonse. I thought you and Edward already learned that."
The blood smeared on the rain-slick stones of the street. Al dipped his finger in the blood again and started to fill in the necessary details within the circle. "We did, but I won't give up till I've tried everything. If it doesn't work…" He paused and looked at the metal shards littering the alley. "Well, it's not like I have much to look forward to now anyway."
"Al…" Mustang started slowly, kneeling by the circle.
"Colonel," Hawkeye warned, knowing exactly what Mustang was thinking. She was not going to let him throw his life away for the hopeless, desperate chance of regaining the life of his subordinate – a State Alchemist, a "hero of the people", a big brother, a child. The Elric brothers' lives were just one tragedy after another. She shut her eyes, but repeated the one word warning with forced intensity. "Colonel."
"Stay out of this, Colonel," Al completed the drawing with a finalizing swipe. "Brother was an idiot and gave his life for mine. It makes sense that it would work the other way. That's how Equivalent Exchange works, right? I know it's not really possible, but I have to try." Al positioned himself beside Ed's lifeless body. He continued talking, but it didn't seem like he was talking to Hawkeye or Mustang anymore. "This time, I offer everything as payment. I don't care if I die. Take my soul. Take everything." A sound eerily like a sob escaped Al's armor as he raised his remaining gauntlet. Pressing his hand to the circle, he screamed, "Just give me back my brother!"
The alley filled with blinding blue alchemic light.
Wet with ink, the tip of the pen hovered pointlessly over the top paper on a mound of overdue documents. It hadn't moved for several minutes. Mustang stared at his hand, unseeing, reflecting on the events of yesterday.
He still felt muted terror coursing coolly through his blood from when Al activated the circle and the whole alley lit up with ferocious blue light. A giant eye had appeared. That moment was perhaps the first time since Ishval that Mustang had seen Hawkeye look so terrified, and yet Alphonse, expressionless though his armor was, seemed deadly calm as shadow-black hands deconstructed his armor and Ed's empty body.
The light receded with terrific flare, and then they were gone. That was the end of it. Mustang had held Hawkeye close, not even aware he had unconsciously pulled her behind him as though to shield her from danger. They watched the blood circle for seconds, minutes, and when neither Elric brother reappeared twenty minutes later when Hughes found Roy and Riza still sitting in the alley, Mustang ordered an overnight watch on the circle. The Elric brothers might just be taking their time after all. Mustang had no idea how long human transmutation took to work. He could still hope, right?
It had been a long night afterward. Mustang had gone back to see it again himself, but the only difference was the smeared edges of the circle. Rain continued all through the night, ruining it, and Mustang had to force himself not to fix it just in case that was why the brothers couldn't return.
He knew they were gone – dead. It was just so hard to let go of the denial.
Mustang's pen wavered a moment over the paper. Large block letters stared up dauntingly:
MAJOR EDWARD ELRIC, FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST
He had signed hundreds of forms with Ed's name on them, but this was different. Death certificates signified the end of another life, and Mustang couldn't bring himself to sign it. Not even Riza's gun would make him touch his pen to that cursed paper.
Slamming down the writing utensil with little dignity, Mustang looked away. His eyes wandered to the phone poised at the edge of his desk.
Oh…
Signing a death certificate was not the only task Mustang dreaded.
Someone had to phone the Rockbells to tell them what happened. Not all the details of course. Ed's murder was still classified as a top secret case in open investigation and Al's human transmutation was a forbidden and ultimately outlawed taboo. Legally, Mustang couldn't divulge much about the circumstances, but someone had to tell Ed's surrogate family that they wouldn't be coming home.
An evil thought crossed Roy's mind.
He didn't have to tell them. The Rockbells were the only emergency contact number on Ed's file but for automail repairs only. Ed had made sure of that. He didn't want Winry and Granny worried every time he got sent to the hospital – too often. But this was not a hospital trip. Ed wasn't coming back this time. No more slamming doors, no more petty insults back and forth, no more damage bills longer than Maes's wallet album, no more fiery determination, and no more fond looks at his brother.
Edward Elric was not coming back.
Mustang could fill out the official fill-in-the-blank letter and send that. He could even write a letter himself, but that would draw out the process more for both him and the Rockbells. Best to call and be done.
Glancing at Ed's open file, Mustang dialed the numbers and cursed himself for not thinking through just how he would tell them. After a few tones, Mrs. Pinako – Granny, as Ed and Al referred to her – answered, "Rockbell Automail. How can I help you?"
Mustang fumbled for a moment in his mind.
"Hello?" The woman's voice sounded curious and borderline snappish. Despite her assumptions he was not a prank caller. Mustang decided that was a good way to start.
"I'm Colonel Roy Mustang calling from East CityCentral about Major Edward Elric." How did his voice sound so stable and official when his mind was scrambling to connect the words together fast enough? If he took a moment to analyze the situation, he would realize just how heartless he sounded. But then, that was the only way he could get through the phone call without losing it.
Pinako was quick to respond. "If this is about that boy's automail again, you're better off talking to Winry. She's his mechanic."
Mustang could almost see her turning to call Winry over. "No, no!" The last thing he needed to deal with was a bawling teenage girl.
Pinako had sharper instincts than Mustang credited her. "What happened?" She demanded. The keen edge of a mother's worry and fury bit into her tone. She had helped raise the boys; of course she would be protective of them.
A brief period of silence passed over the lines while Mustang hastily mastered the art of speaking around a lump of grief and anxiety. He had no idea how Pinako would take the news.
"He's dead."
To the point, and completely devoid of jargon words to sugar-coat it.
There was silence on the line so Roy continued. "He was assassinated by a serial killer yesterday evening. He died trying to protect Alphonse."
A choked noise sounded in Mustang's ear, but when Pinako spoke, her voice was steady. "And what of Al? Where is he? How is he doing? Is he okay?"
Of course she'd want to know. Mustang swallowed dryly. "Alphonse tried to bring his brother back to life." Pinako would understand what he meant.
"What happened?" She repeated her original inquiry.
"They still haven't returned."
"…so Alphonse too."
"Yes."
Mustang braced himself for the lecture, the yelling, the anger and sadness. He deserved it. He had taken Ed and Al from their peaceful refuge in Resembool and created soldiers for his own benefit. At least it started that way. Now he could genuinely say that he had another face to haunt his nightmares, another person let down. Another life lost.
But the lecture never came. The uncomfortable silence settled between the lines for a minute, and Mustang waited. Finally Pinako gruffly managed to say, with no stymie on her raw emotion, "Thank you for giving those boys hope again."
That was all she said, maybe all she could say.
Mustang forced out, "I'm just sorry I couldn't do more to help them."
Pinako didn't offer a farewell of any sort. Mustang didn't expect one, but before she could hang up, Mustang heard Winry's voice, "Granny, who's on the phone?"
His heart clenched.
Placing the phone on the receiver, Mustang felt himself grow angry – bitterly, horridly angry. He stared murderously at Ed's name on the death certificate.
"Do you know what you are doing to them?" Roy ground out as though Ed would hear him. "Do you know what you are doing to me?"
Mustang pointed at his phone, the emotions rising fast, the grief burning up in anger. "I just called the Rockbells to tell them that you're dead. What do you have to say about that? Your granny is stuck with telling Winry how you were murdered and that you are never coming back. You know Winry; she'll cry about this. You hate seeing her cry so how dare you be the cause of her tears!"
Mustang slammed a fist onto the desk. A loose pile of papers slipped to the floor unnoticed. "You could have done more, Ed! You could have fought; you didn't have to lay down your life! Look what you did to Al! You left him alone. He needed you, Ed! You abandoned your brother when he needed you most. Now it's your fault Winry's crying, and it's your fault Al is dead!"
With a furious slash, Mustang cast his slanted signature across Ed's death certificate.
There. It was done.
Mustang slumped. The anger melted away as he stared miserably at the paper. His body trembled. Shaking his head fervently, Mustang muttered, "No…it was my fault. I should have done something more to protect you… I could have helped you more or sent you away from the danger. Instead I thrust you head on into it." The outer casing of the pen cracked in his grip. "I should never have gone to Resembool."
The empty office gathered dust while Mustang sat forlornly at his desk. He let the words on that damning certificate burn scars into his memory, "I have your blood on my hands. I hired a you, a boy, to work in a military institution. You are a child. You and Al are only kids–" He stopped, caught his mistake and pressed through a cracked and wavering voice, "Were kids."
Mustang placed the crushed pen on Ed's file. He stared at the obnoxious picture of Ed clipped inside. "Of all the evils in the world, I had to be caught up in the worst of them, not only once but twice." His hand clenched. "I've killed children. Desperate, helpless children."
She wished it were raining.
The sun poked shyly around a stray cloud, and here and there birds twittered as they flew above the knot of people. The afternoon sun neither mocked them with its cheerfulness nor did the clouds threaten to shed tears. The weather was just normal as though today was any other day. But it wasn't.
Again Winry wished for rain.
She stared hollowly at the gravestones. One for Trisha, one for Edward ("Fullmetal Alchemist" inscribed underneath the name), and one for Alphonse. Her eyes burned with fresh tears, and her cheeks already showed signs of lingering moisture. She hadn't cried this much since the news of her parents' deaths.
While the Elric brothers had a broad and generally popular reputation throughout East Amestris only a gathering of a dozen people showed up for the funeral. Colonel Mustang informed them that there were no bodies to bury, but Granny Pinako ensured that both boys received a headstone on either side of their mother's. It was the least they could do to honor their memory.
The funeral had ended some time ago and now only Winry, Granny, and a vaguely familiar couple lingered by the graves. Presently the woman approached her and Granny, a mournful look of regret and heartbreak distorting her features.
"Are you Mrs. Pinako Rockbell?" The woman asked. Her mesomorphic husband stood beside her, their hands clasped tightly.
Granny looked up at the stranger, but Winry ignored them. What did she care who they were and how they knew Granny's name? Winry's vision tunneled until the only thing she saw was the little stone monuments marking the end of her two best friends' lives.
Granny replied affirmatively so the woman continued on in a reverent tone, "My name is Izumi Curtis. This is my husband Sig. We took in Edward and Alphonse for some time a few years back." She introduced herself.
Winry's eyes narrowed. "You're their alchemy teacher, aren't you?" she stated tonelessly.
To the side, Granny started. This was the first time Winry had spoken since hearing of tragedy that felled her friends.
"That's right," Izumi nodded.
"In that case," Granny gestured to the path leading out of the cemetery, "Would you like to join my granddaughter and me for a while?"
Winry wanted to push all of them away so she could fall on her knees and weep without hindrance, but she soon found herself seated at home with both hands clasping a mug of hot chocolate on the kitchen table. Numbly she heard the adults talking, probably reminiscing and getting along almost amicably despite the tenebrific atmosphere.
A question from Granny made her suddenly interested in listening, however.
"So if you two live out in Dublith, how did you hear about…?"
There was a slight pause. Izumi answered, "My husband and I were in Central for the weekend. We saw Ed's picture in the paper."
"We didn't even know he had become a State Alchemist," Sig continued.
Izumi nodded. The gesture contained conflicting emotions of pride and anger. "They never told us."
They never told us. They never told us.
Winry stood up abruptly and bolted out of the kitchen. She couldn't handle the civil conversation anymore.
They never told us. They never told us.
With a finalizing slam of her bedroom door, Winry threw herself facedown onto her mattress. Tears soaked into the material stretched over her pillow, and she twisted the blankets beneath her with unrelenting fingers.
As she sobbed, she began to scream. "You never told us anything either!" You never wrote, you never called, and the only time you ever let me help you was when you broke your automail." Winry's heart pounded hard against her chest as though the stress of it breaking so many times in her short life was too much.
"Maybe if you had let people help you, you wouldn't be dead." She choked on a sob and curled up. "Ed, Al– Idiots…why'd you have to leave me too…?"
White. Endless, blank, and discomfiting white.
He hated the color.
Edward's eyes swept his surroundings cautiously. He half expected to see Truth grinning at him from somewhere, but there was nothing. No gate and no Truth; just him.
If he didn't see something other than this damning color soon he would go insane.
As if spurred by that wish, a dark blob appeared in the distance. It seemed to come closer at a crawl, and ever the impatient one, Ed decided to help the image focus sooner by walking out to meet it. It didn't take long for the figure to solidify in the surrounding emptiness. When Ed saw what it was, he ran.
"AL!" His voice cracked at the end. "ALPHONSE!" The figure rushed to meet Ed.
"Brother!"
They bumped into each other, unable to stop fast enough. Ed grasped Al's shoulders. "Al," he started, faltered, and tried again, "Al, I– What are you–? How–? I just– What happened? I– I don't understand."
The center of Ed's fluster smiled and laughed. Alphonse stood in front his brother, flesh and whole and radiating a joy unparalleled. "I, well, uh…don't be mad, Brother." He turned sheepish and offered big round eyes asking pardon for his choice.
That was when everything clicked. "You tried to bring me back, didn't you?" Ed's exhilaration vanished. "Al…I didn't let Scar kill me so you could die too," he deadpanned.
Al pouted at him and roughly admonished, "You should have known I planned to destroy my blood seal if you ever died. I don't have the strength that you have to be able to carry on by myself."
"That's no excuse to–"
"Besides," Al interrupted. "I'm a lot happier here." He held up his flesh hand to illustrate what he meant.
Ed slumped defeatedly, but under the cover of a downcast head, he smiled tenderly. The sight of his brother so happy and so human struck out any ire he had for Al's actions. After all, what was done could not be undone.
After a moment, he fumbled, "Can I…?" Ed's mouth worked up and down, but he couldn't finish the request. Al knew what he was asking and threw himself at his big brother. For the first time since That Day, Edward hugged his baby brother, and in that moment nothing could make Ed happier. At least that's what he thought.
As they broke free of the embrace, a sweet voice called out to them. "Edward? Alphonse? You boys have grown so tall!"
They froze. "…Mom?"
The brothers turned as one to see a woman with soft waves of brown hair tumbling over her shoulders. Young green eyes filled with unreserved love beckoned them nearer. She opened her arms wide and smiled.
"Mom!" Al ran to her, tripping over himself in his haste; Edward followed close behind.
Trisha reached up and hugged them both as they clung to her desperately. Ed sobbed openly, soaking in his mother's presence. His tears slid down his cheeks and dropped onto her shoulder. She didn't fidget, but rather held her boys close until they all three sank to the colorless ground together. Ed knelt with his mother's right hand in his. Sitting to his side, Al clung to her other hand. After a moment Trisha pulled her fingers loose from Ed's grasp. He reached out to grab it back yearning for and craving her touch. She tenderly stroked his bangs back from his eyes, stopping him. Fresh tears pooled in Edward's eyes as he cried harder. Trisha cupped Al's cheek in her palm before replacing her hand in Ed's grip.
"I've missed you more than you know," she blinked away tears of her own. "I love you both so very much."
Edward sobbed. He had what he wanted from the very beginning. He had his mother back. In that moment, he didn't even think of what those he left behind were going through. All he knew was Alphonse had his human body and they could once again see their mother's smile. For him, that's all that mattered.
-Dante